Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds
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Prologue!
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Red's an ugly colour really. Red's an unforgiving colour. Red's not a friend. Red's not a favourite colour. Red's not a colour of love. Red's a stain.
Red pumps our bodies endlessly for life. Red is what keeps us alive but as it pumps incessantly from 1... no from 2... no from 3 wounds it is as though an evil escape. The red pulsating from 3 wounds was 3 wounds too many for his liking. He couldn't supply pressure to each and every one of them and the more he failed the more he watched the life seep away. The more her skin paled proved the life as it weakened soon to leave the shell that was her body. He looked at the wounds again, chest, right side of abdomen, central abdomen. His eyes dropped and he surveyed the puddle, ever expanding was the red now. She was losing the red too soon and too quick and the ambulance sirens were not even in hearing range.
Her eyes showed her strength. Her eyes showed her love. Her eyes showed her fear. Hey eyes showed the strain. Her eyes showed her pain. Yet those eyes, her eyes, would not give up the fight. Would not give up their spark, their twinkle, their sparkle.
Her lips moved in groans and moans, in twists of pains, in twists of releases, her lips moved with wordless sounds, with noiseless words. Her lips moved with unspoken secrets, and needed wishes. Her lips moved with truths, and fears and facts and memories. Her lips spoke words so softly that hearing them were difficult but hearing them he yearned for.
Her hand held his bicep, in a weakened grip as she couldn't have his hand. It was her comfort, it was her life line and all the time he felt her grip on it his mind knew she was alive. Her other hand helped him as she pushed on her right side as she weakly applied pressure to the wound he couldn't, it wasn't doing the job but she was trying desperately to help him stay calm.
Her legs moved occasionally with shifts of discomfort. Her legs moved with twists of pain. Her legs moved as the muscles spasmed from the burn of the three bullets, from their torture and their trauma. Her legs moved in eagerness to get help.
The emotions that played were a cascading rollercoaster of millions. There were the tears that came, they were permanent and frequent. The reassuring smile that inconsistently grew on her lips to help his mind reassert that she would strive to see him after this was over. The sadness that grew at the situation. The fear that grew at the thought that maybe she wouldn't make it out of this one this time. One time luck had struck once before... would she really be graced with the second chance? She didn't know but she would strive for it.
Her ears felt muffled but she was sure nothing was covering them. Her hearing felt enclosed as he spoke encouragement to her. As he spoke the name of her, as he spoke to her to stay with him, as he ran off a dialogue of professing his love and all she could do in response was groan, and moan, and gasp, and wince, and cry, and draw in sharp breaths as her breathing got tighter. The words she did get out were short and incoherent but said everything to him they needed to. The words she said, his name, yes, no, I love you, I won't, I promise.
Promises were made, truths were gained, lies were shared, hopes were expressed, and all with a probable death looming.
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What do you think?
More soon!
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