"Armed blag on North Road, a jeweller's place. Five blokes with guns. Move, move, move!"
Those three sentences were enough to galvanise the A-Team of Fenchurch CID- Gene, Ray, Chris and myself- into action, and in a flurry of papers and cigarette smoke the room was evacuated of the four of us as we rushed towards the Quattro and piled in, tyres screeching away and heading to the blag before my seatbelt was even fastened. Gene glowered at me as if to say, "What are you, a copper or a harpist?", and I left it, holding onto the door for dear life instead.
They were just coming out as we arrived, bags full of jewels in hands and backpacks, guns slung over shoulders and in holsters at their hips. The ringleader was the first to make his move, pulling his revolver out suddenly in one smooth move and shooting at the windscreen of the Quattro, smashing it with a disturbingly beautiful sound; as glass cascaded onto me, I could feel the draft from the bullet, just centimetres away from my ear.
"Drop yer weapons! Yer surrounded!" Gene yelled, his Manchester tones stark in the cold air, lifting over the screams of people around us and the yelps of the robbers to each other, masking even the roar of the old van they were using.
The leader laughed, firing again, this time getting Ray in the leg. Ray collapsed back, clutching his injured thigh, clearly in horrific pain from the injury; I could hear his gasps of agony from the other side of the Quattro, desperate and shuddering, more like something from a horror film than anything else.
"That's IT!"
Gene advanced further, almost effortlessly dodging bullets, his face serious, grim, contorted with rage and hatred. The man to the right of the leader received a bullet to the chest as Gene's gun recoiled in his gloved hand, wisps of dark smoke drifting lazily away from the barrel as the man dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Another was felled by Chris, crouched beside his mate, firing away until his gun was destroyed by a bullet down the barrel; dropping the carcass of the pistol, he dragged Ray from sight instead, sheltering him behind the Quattro.
It was me and Gene against about four of them, minus the one we'd gotten; Gene was moving forwards all the time, managing to avoid the continuous fire towards him as I distracted them by shooting as well, screaming at the top of my lungs to give them even more confusion. Gene's hand was a blur as it shot over and over again, the gun like a living, murderous creature in his palm, bending to his will, destroying the creatures in front of him.
And then it all happened too quickly for me to react.
Gene's foot stumbled on a man-hole in the road; before he could catch his balance again, steadying himself with his arms, they were firing on him, this time catching his body with their arrows of lead, one going into his stomach, another into his shoulder. Gene didn't even try to fight back.
He just fell.
Barely even seeing them flee as I scrambled over to my wounded Guv, my world blurred; all I could feel was the blood on my fingertips, the draining life resources of the man I had grown to love, who had protected me with his life on more than one occasion- silently my heart wondered if he would ever do so again-
And then Chris was next to me, his fingers finding Gene's pulse, murmuring that he was holding on, he was trying, he could feel a heartbeat-
I could hardly breathe-
The ground was turning scarlet around me-
A warm, thick liquid was staining my knees, stealing onto my skin, warm and crimson, Death and Life rolled into one-
And I couldn't take it in, what was happening, the terror of what I knew was happening right now, in front of me, as Chris ripped off his jacket to try and staunch the blood flow from Gene's stomach and I unconsciously pressed my hands to his shoulder to apply much-needed pressure to the wound, coming back to myself a little, knowing that there wasn't much we could do, but the little we could might be enough to save him, bring the one and only Gene Genie back from the brink of extinction.
A cough shattered my daze as I held the heels of my hands to the wound above his arm, one that was so familiar a tear seeped down my cheek just at the sound of it.
"Gene!"
His eyes just managed to open, slivers of the most beautiful blue I had ever seen, begging me in that second to listen, to hear what he needed to tell me. Spitting out a little blood, his mouth began to work, moving into the shapes needed to make words but not producing enough noise for me to hear.
I bent my head right down to his, my hand drawing soothing circles on his skin, my heart pounding so hard it might never recover but my mind starting to go blank, the only thing entering it being the sound of Gene's weakened voice as he whispered to me, my hand finding his and squeezing it hard, refusing to let him give up.
"Bolly… I… I'm sorry… I… I love you…"
"Don't give up, Gene, stay with me," I urged him, squeezing his hand harder, tears tumbling freely onto his shirt. I only just registered that they came from me.
"Bolly… please…"
"I love you, Gene, stay with me, come on, fight, damn you!"
But however much I tried to make him stay, to keep him with me and conscious and breathing, however much I tried to keep his weakened but noble heart pumping, it was nothing compared to the force of the bullets embedded deep in his weary body, the flesh that still had so much to give.
"Gene… please…"
"Bolly…"
And his voice was so faint that I could barely even catch it.
As his hand became limp in mine and a slight gasp came from his lips, I knew that he was gone.
And then there was nothing.
Just darkness, filling the void, the gap, the hole, that was once my soul, and seemed to have died along with Gene Hunt.
I didn't even know that Chris had gently lifted me away from Gene's body until he was draping a white sheet over the body from the ambulance that had just come in and stopped a few metres away from the Quattro. I couldn't stop shaking; bile was slowly rising in my throat, threatening to choke me completely as I saw the sheet framing the shape of Gene's face, indents for his eyes and a peak for his nose…
Unable to take any more, sobbing my heart out and about to vomit, I blacked out, toppling sideways against the Quattro and knowing no more other than complete and utter misery in my dreams.
A/N: Ooh… this turned out nice and sombre… do people mind it being this sad? Tell me if you want more of this! I'll just be off reading something a little less grim. Thanks in advance to all reviewers! Jazzola :)
