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Tw: Death, blood, graphic descriptions of pain

He wasn't doing much, there was an hour before the meeting started and he'd finished everything that needed to be done in time for the meeting, so there was plenty of time to spare.

There was no warning when it happened, no reason for him to expect anything was off, but the ground started to shaking and the slight movements quickly turned violent.

He wasn't going to make it out in time.

He feels like he's on fire, darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision. He wants to scream, call for anyone, but he couldntan't breathe and the only thing that comes out when he tries is blood.

He isn't sure how long before he eventually does black out, but he knows when he comes back.

Seven times, he died seven times. Was he really that forgettable?

He can barely register his call over the ringing in his ears before he shows up, head hitting the table with a painful thud.

For a moment, the only sound is California gasping for breath, but only a moment.

The others stand quickly, DC and Texas rushing to his side, checking for injuries while New York runs out to get help, Florida and Louisiana are talking but he can't process any of it.

His throat burns and he feels his consciousness fading once more.