Because I'm so incredibly original, it's inspired by a song. There's a character death (although not one you know) and Greg might be considered as slightly OOC.
Nick closed his eyes as he entered the room. He could smell it all. The stench of urine, sweat, sex. Fear. The victim had been fifteen, her family had only just moved to Las Vegas. All her family were accounted for; the seven year old sister sprawled on the couch, where she had been watching her favourite cartoon. Her mother was slumped across her lap, had obviously attempted to protect her. It had been her father who had alerted the police presence, although not whilst he was alive. His body had been strung up on the porch, a warning of things to come.
It was obvious what had happened here. He bit his lip as he brought the camera to his face. There was a blood pool on the bed, a used condom on the floor, but no girl. He bent down, carefully collecting it. At least there was DNA. A reasonable chance they would get justice for this family.
A noise distracted him from his thoughts, and he turned around to face the wardrobe. There had been a definite noise. Carefully crossing the room, he pulled the doors open, and she fell out.
"Shit! Greg!" he screamed, his voice rising as he fell to his knees in an attempt to catch her. Her heart was beating faintly, and her hand reached up to grasp his, bloodied. Her eyes were wild, betraying her emotions.
"GREG!" he shouted again. The girl winced in discomfort, and he bit his lip. He looked down at her, covered in blood, naked. Her eyes fluttered.
"No! Don't leave me sweetie!" Oh god oh god. Comfort. That was what he needed to provide. He bundled her close to him, and she untensed slightly. Right. Reassurance.
"You're going to be okay sweetheart." He pulled his radio out, but he was in a blind spot. She gurgled, and he looked down at her, her mouth opening and closing. She was obviously attempting to speak.
"Don't, sweets. Save yourself." He stroked her hair gently, noticed an iPod on the ground. He looked at the song she had been listening to before the attack, and sighed. He knew the song, and how ironically appropriate it was, but it wouldn't exactly give her comfort. Although, to be fair, not much would. She needed to hear the sound of a human voice, and he didn't know what to say to her. Didn't want to whisper sweet nothings to a girl the same age as a couple of his nieces.
He cleared his throat.
"Strong as you were, tender you go, I'm watching you breathing for the last time." His voice shook. "A song for your heart, but when it gets quiet, I know what it means and, I'll carry you home, as strong as you were, tender you'll go, I'm watching you breathing for the last time." Oh god. He couldn't believe he was having to do this. He could feel her heart beat slowing, fading, the pauses punctuation her breaths lengthening. "A song for your heart, but when it gets quiet, I know what it means and I'll carry you home,"
"Dude, did I hear you shouting?" It was Greg, he'd finally responded to the shouts. "Only, Sara said she didn't hear anything, and made me check the pool, because apparently we're missing the dog or someth-" he paused as he finally took in the scene.
Nick looked down at the dead body in his arms.
"I'll carry you home," he whispered.
The song is by James Blunt, and it's called Carry You Home.