A/N: This is another short story. Yes, another attempt at me trying to stretch myself with Cherri Goodness (Semi-smut, smut). This first chapter is a prologue and little dramatic, sets the stage, with references to Second Line. There are 3 chapters. Chapter will 3 will more than likely be M, not quite sure might leave it at semi-smut like Cherri On Top.
The title is take from S.O.A.'s Meeting Mr. Mayhem.
Meeting Mr. Mortality
Chris LaSalle never thought he would meet Mr. Mortality with a sucker punch to the throat by a weasely looking business man with wire rimmed glasses. He and Percy were questioning witnesses at the crime scene when all of a sudden the man he was talking to let loose nailing him in the windpipe before taking off across the street.
After he recovered, the agent's first instinct was to give chase but whoa…
He needed a moment. Leaning against the light pole he began to take in long purposeful breaths. The resonating pain from the blow wasn't going away. It felt like someone had forced him to swallow a golf ball or somethin'.
The sensation was really quite indescribable.
What was happening here? All of a sudden it was hard to breath. Something inside of his throat felt like it was collapsing. Which wasn't too far from the truth, something was seriously wrong as he began to feel his throat constrict.
Why'd heck couldn't he breathe? Absently, he tugged at the collar of his shirt as if that would do any good.
"LaSalle?" He heard Percy call out to him. Coughing, he motioned to her to go after the suspect. Not wasting a second, the pint sized agent was sprinting down Royal Street identifying herself as a federal agent.
Chris bent down, placing his hands on his knees, his head hanging low desperately trying to draw in a breath. This was not good. Sweat was forming on his brow, panic was setting in. Pressure was starting to gather in his head and behind his eyes.
Briefly, he looked up to see Brody coming at him and assumed that she and Pride had been alerted by the noise on the com. The two had been behind the yellow tape canvassing the body with Loretta.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded his head, still believing that whatever this was it would pass.
/Praying it would pass/
"What happened?"
He tried to tell her, but he couldn't speak clearly. His voice sounded raspy and hoarse, akin to the fact that he wasn't getting enough oxygen. He'd been in rather scary situations before but this was becoming absolutely terrifying.
A bystander said something to Brody and immediately she started to call for Loretta.
He could hear Brody, feel her touch his shoulder but nothing was making sense. Black spots were starting to appear, forming the tunnel and he felt like-
Something was choking the life of him. But what the heck was he choking on? He'd hadn't been eating when Clark Kent had suddenly decided to turn into Rocky Balboa.
He could barely draw a breath in or out. Slowly, he started to sink to the concrete, allowing Brody to guide him as the medical examiner pushed her way through the gathering crowd, concern flooding her face.
"What happened?" she asked, not giving a rip about her bad knees as she went to the sidewalk beside Chris and Merri.
"Witness said a man wearing a business suit hit him in the throat." Brody scooted around, placing Chris' head in her lap so that it wouldn't the hard ground, granting Loretta access to the rest of him. Lowering her head, she watched for the rise and fall of his chest.
"Call 9-1-1," Loretta looked at the closest bystander with a cell phone. "Tell them you have male, 34 years of age with a compromised airway due to blunt force trauma. Then hand me your phone to me."
She'd seen people come across her table with laryngeal fractures, who ultimately died from the swelling of their larynx, automobile accidents mainly. On occasion, she had seen an athlete or two who inadvertently been clotheslined by an oncoming opponent. But never someone who had taken a direct blow from another human being's fist. She hoped that Chris LaSalle wouldn't be her first.
Judging by the wheezing sounds and the blue tint around his lips, she needed to work fast. "Merri, he's not getting enough oxygen I need to intubate." It was a risky move, given their location but one Loretta felt that they needed to try.
If she didn't in a few moments, CPR was probably going to be a given. "Call Dwayne, have him bring me my bag as fast as he can." She said as the person with the phone motioned to her. "Merri, keep him calm."
Calm? How in the hell was he supposed to stay calm when he couldn't breathe? Intubate? Was that where they had to shove tube a down your throat?
But he was still awake.
Merri must have felt the terror permeating from his body. Leaning over, her big doe eyes, met his terrified blues ones, and out of habit she stroked the side of his face, noting his skin had gone ashen. He could tell by the look on her fact that she was just as terrified as he was.
Chris tried to listen as Brody spoke frantically into her phone, but whatever monster had crawled up inside him was now clawing at his chest, pulling his heart down into his abdomen. Dang, it hurt. It felt like something was trying to it rip clean out him.
Either that or some sadistic villain had taken up residence in his throat and was crushing it from the inside out.
And then something wet, hit his cheek. What was this? Merri Brody was crying? He looked up at her to see tears brimming on her long, eyelashes.
She took his hand into hers and drew it to her lips, kissing it. He should have felt this but his body was too busy trying to find another way to breath.
"Hang on," her voice cracked, "the ambulance will be here in just a few minutes."
A few minutes? To LaSalle it already seemed like it had been an hour. He wanted to say something to her, something to make her feel better, but when he tried to open his mouth, all that came out was gasping wheeze: a not so subtle reminder that his body wasn't taking in the necessary oxygen to keep everything that was Chris LaSalle going.
"Don't try to speak," Merri told him as a firm hand came down on his thigh.
"She's right, Christopher"
King? Chris wasn't sure how but he managed to flick his gaze past Brody to almost stare straight up at the older man. Now he wished he hadn't of been so clavier with his friend on the issue of coming face to face with Mr. Morality, because, brother he was sure feelin' it now.
In some freak accident, it had come right up from the depths of hell and bit him in the ass. Some sort of penance for denyin' it that day he'd been kicked in the chest after the assailants gun had misfired.
Was he now supposed to learn that lesson from some 5'4 guy in a business suit who resembled Harry Potter?
Percy was there now too, making some flippant comment about him being an attention seeking Neanderthal, but he really couldn't hear her, a loud ringing had taken up the space the in-between his ears.
Had a bomb gone off and somebody forgot to tell him? Suddenly, he couldn't hear a thing. What'd heck was that all about?
And those black spots that were dancing before his eyes, they were suddenly getting bigger, blocking out his vision. Along with the crushing feeling, his traitorous heart was no longer slamming against the wall of his chest.
It was still.
A vacant scream left his lips, or at least he thought it had. Desperately, his hand groped around, searching for Merri's. Wasn't she just holding his?
Where was she? His sweet, gorgeous lover that he kept close to her him, night after night, wrapped up safely in his arms, feeding off of her warmth. If he could just find her…
/Shit!/
MERRI!
KING!
It wasn't like they show'd in the movies where you met were with bright light and someone beautiful from your past was waiting to guide you toward the pearly gates. There was just…
NUTHIN'
Nothing, but gut curling fear. When Sonja had accused him of not being afraid anything he'd replied back with a rather jest quip: you kickin' my butt. At that moment, nothing could have been further from the truth.
Death was what really scared him. Dying alone and never to be found specifically. He didn't care what Percy said about running from death meaning you were also running from life. He understood what she had meant by that, but in his mind he lived his life to the fullest and avoided death by playing things smart.
He had never avoided living a day in his life.
When Chris LaSalle died, he was going to be a very old man who went peacefully in sleep knowing that he had lived a rich life with family, walking the road where he had done all that he could to support the causes of the greater good.
His time wasn't now was it? How could it be? He couldn't die over a half ass punch to the throat. That wouldn't make any sense. He'd spent years on the streets on the NOLA solving murders, taking down drug dealers, and other heinous criminals. There were plenty of other ways to die, befitting of his role of a Law Enforcement Agent.
He felt like the War Hero who had survived numerous battles on the field only to be killed at home in a car accident.
There was a sudden jolting and painful feeling in his chest. His entire body felt like it was on fire! It was a hell of a rush. He must have involuntarily jumped at least three feet. His eyes opened for just a brief second and he caught a flash and glimmer of a face.
He could breathe but not on his own.
A scary thought, but he was alive. Thank God he had Merri. She was his rock. Uncertain of how much time had passed, his lids opened to the sensation of her head on his chest. Tentatively, his hand fell into her hair.
Sniffling, she raised her head, bringing her tear filled eyes to his. "You're going to be ok, I'm going to see to that." She promised.
A/N: Anyone ready to see how Merri takes care of Chris? Hee-Hee. If so, please let me know.