I'm sorry. My first ever story and I kill Sheppard, and would you believe he's my favourite character?
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He was cold, the rain pouring down from the sky, clinging to his clothes, his hair, everything stuck to him. He felt warmth trickling out from his lips to dribble down from the corner of his mouth as pain began to register in his numbing brain. He looked down and saw a sudden flower of red in an otherwise blue and grey world, the dark crimson spreading through the puddles. It took him a moment to realise that it was his own blood, and that he was on his knees in the rain, his arms slack by his sides as his life slipped away in a pool of red.
It was wrong. He couldn't leave the world like this, without even a whimper as he faded into nothingness. He had to fight, even though he knew it was hopeless, even though all he wanted to do was lie down and let the water take him. He struggled to move, to get off his knees, to walk. The movement cause a tearing pain in his chest, he let a pained growl escape from his lips, no-one was here to hear his pain, and there was no shame in it.
With a cry of agony, he stood, and walked. He didn't know where he was going, how many steps he could take, he was just... walking. Walking away until he could walk no more, walking away from his pain and his fear, from his defiance and his determination. Walking away from his life, from everything that made him who he was.
He didn't know where he stopped, he was only aware that he was no longer walking when he found himself on his back in the mud, staring up at the sky as rain fell into his eyes, and the dark clouds seems to reach down with insubstantial fingers to take him away.
He had always hated the rain, hated the feeling of being wet and cold. He had never paused to see how beautiful it was, the silver clouds gliding across the sky, the raindrops fleeting diamonds against the greyness of the world. With a painful chuckle he reflected on the irony of it, to realise the beauty of the world as he left it.
The breaths were more difficult now, each one a fight against the cold that was seeping through his body, each one grasping at energy he didn't have. Briefly, he panicked. What if they never found him, what if he died and no-one even noticed? Worse still, what f they didn't care? But his fears were quelled as he heard there voices, they were calling to him, but he couldn't answer. It didn't matter, they would find him.
He took one more breath, the last of his fabled strength leaving him with an almost relieved sigh as the spark of life left his green eyes. They would find him.