Author's Notes: Okay this is my very first one-shot (that I'm not to
scared to post) I'm trying out a different style than I normally write
so please be honest about what you think...thanks to my wonderful beta
khentkawes...this is for stargateprompts on livejournal.
Red
It is wrong…all wrong. Everywhere you look you see red. Red covers your hands, pooling far too quickly around your bodies, red marring the normally flawless pale skin of your lover and wife. Red is everywhere and is all wrong. You look down hopelessly into pain filled gray eyes, having no idea what to do, knowing that there is nothing to be done. You are miles from the 'gate but you know that even being in the SGC infirmary would not stop the inevitable. There is simply too much red.
It's strange to you. Red was once a color you associated with happiness and joy. Presents wrapped up in bright red boxes, fresh apples, your first bike and sweet fruit punch on hot summer days. Now all red brings is pain and death. You have lost so many in a sea of red. Your parents crushed beneath heavy stone, Sha're to Teal'c's staff blast, Janet to enemy fire as she tried to save a life, and even yourself once or twice to various evils. There are countless more, that you tried to save but failed. So many that you do not remember them all. So much red, so much death. Here you are again watching helplessly as the most important thing in your life is slipping away. Her life draining before your eyes.
You watch as she grows white and her eyes begin to droop. You want to scream and yell, to attack something…anything. But you remain still, cradling her ever so gently as she slips further and further away. You hear that every breath is becoming more difficult than the last, and red slowing begins to slip from her perfect pink lips. The same perfect pink lips that have memorized every inch of your body, lips that have teased and loved you for years.
Finally her eyes slip shut and her last breathe fills the air. She is gone. All that remains are you and the red. Somewhere off in the distance Mitchell is calling out to you, enemy soldiers are retreating back to their village and the wind is howling through the trees. All you hear is silence; however, all you see is red. After placing a gentle kiss on her white forehead, you lay her on the ground. Slowly you pick up your forgotten sidearm and cradle it in your hand, fingering the trigger softly.
It's all wrong.
There is too much red.