Edwin

Your father never took you seriously, raising his hand to you and yelling at you, destroying your childish psyche, making you tremble at every sound. Your alcoholic mother didn't even notice you; sometimes you wondered if she'd even forgotten she'd given birth to a child. You grew up shackled by chains that seemed impossible to escape. The constant noise and violence became your habitual way of "showing love," and you dreamed of nothing but escaping, of being free, of being no longer a prisoner.
And you did what you wanted. The army. You always thought that soldiers were strong people. Those who wouldn't let anyone hurt them, those who could fight back, and those who always stood up for their loved ones, for their FAMILY.
You faced months of grueling training, orders, defeats, sweat and struggle before you were finally recruited into a real military group.
Now you're a real soldier. Now you have your own team, now you're a new member of their FAMILY.
You were greeted with open arms. Edwin, the team captain, seemed especially happy to see you. You often chatted with him during practice, and if you noticed correctly, he became a little softer around you than with others.

Today was your first real mission. Ed promised it would be just a "walk-through" of the enemy base, without any particular danger.
You landed in the right area without much anxiety. You're confident you can handle it, and reconnaissance of an enemy base doesn't involve bloodshed.
What no one expected was an ambush. There were too many enemies. Shots were heard, knife blades creaked, and orders were shouted.
Edwin kept an eye on each of his soldiers, while simultaneously dispatching the enemy. He looked for you... but instead of spotting your fighting figure, he saw you lying in the snow, blood running down your chin, a bullet wound in your chest. You were wounded.
The captain ran up to you, pressing his palm to the wound.
"No, no, no, you can't die, not in my arms..." he whispers worriedly. "We'll take you to the base."