Comfort
Not a deathfic.
He was on his knees. Trying to stand was agony. Pain shattered his body and tried to cloud his mind, but he focused away from it. Each move brought wave after fresh wave of pain into his body, but he had to get up. He had to warn them, help them if he didn't pass out first. He chided himself inwardly for getting ambushed. He pulled one leg under him and cried out, bracing against the wall with his right hand, leaving bloody handprints there. He pulled the other leg under him and steadied himself. He got his cell phone out of his pocket and fumbled to find the number he needed. He pressed the name on the screen, leaving more bloody fingerprints on it. He heard the pick up.
"Gunman…headed your way…on my way."
He hung up quickly knowing there would be a flood of questions that would waste precious minutes they didn't have. He'd have to hope that the trust that had developed there over the months would be unshaken and enough that they would just spring into action on the warning alone without question. He took one step and groaned, the pain, red hot, searing, almost causing him to black out. He had to keep his mind clear of the pain, but his body wasn't cooperating. He dialed another number.
"Need back up…Five-0 offices. Gunman…"
He hung up again because even with his body protesting, his need to get to his friends was greater than any pain. He had done all he could to get help there, to warn his friends. The rest was up to them and his ability to lend assistance, which he felt was diminishing every minute. He took in a breath and with a grunt he pumped adrenaline into his body and hobbled to the offices.
He had to brace himself along the wall all the way there, but he heard the gunfire and it gave him renewed strength. He pushed himself through the doors and crouched, causing sharp stabbing pain to hit him. His arms were outstretched, if shaking from the pain, his gun ready to shoot. Each step he took was challenging his ability to remain upright, but he kept going.
Finally, he saw the gunman, his back to him, not expecting anyone, let alone the man he shot and had left for dead to come up from behind. He took a little satisfaction at knowing that he would take the bastard out before he could hurt any of his friends, his comrades.
"Hey!" He yelled.
The gunman turned.
The look of shock on the gunman's face made him smile with satisfaction as he pumped three shots at him and brought him down. Spent and all his strength gone, he crumpled to the floor. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was "DANNY!"
TBC