A/N Musings and a conversation with a fellow POI fan about the season 2 finale brought about this (longer than 100 words) drabble. Its a John and Carter 'what if' situation. I do not own Person of Interest or its characters.
Two shots rang out in the air.
He was too late.
His heart was pounding, fast, hard. Or was that the sound of his feet on the gravel underneath them?
He was too late.
His mind was racing, his gun drawn as he crossed the street and he fired after a car after he saw two armed men get in. Bullets flew against the vehicle, one of them eventually piercing the rear glass. But it was too late; they were speeding away, disappearing into the night.
The pounding was there again, this time he was sure it was his heart.
He walked slowly into the alley way, gun drawn and he heard the faint gasping for breath. His eyes adjusted to the dark, and that's when he saw her. She was on the ground, head thrashing slowly from side to side in pain.
She wasn't able to speak. Her gun was at her side, she'd tried to defend herself, she might've even got off a shot or two but they got her.
Heart pounding as he saw the blood, slowly oozing its way onto the ground underneath her. The helplessness in her eyes pierced him to his soul. And suddenly he remembered every smile, every smart remark, every kind word she'd ever said to him.
On his knees, her hand clutched tightly in his own, he uttered her name;
"Joss….."
He couldn't get anything else out, but her name.
"Joss…."
She was slipping away, blood coming from her mouth; the life was fading from her brown eyes.
"Joss, please…" he begged.
He pulled her up, to hold her in his arms, somehow willing her to be alright. Somehow believing, hoping, that if he wanted it badly enough, it would happen.
He felt her use the last of her strength to squeeze his hand, and she weakly called out his name.
"John….." It was almost as if she was seeing him for the first time.
She smiled then, almost in joy to be next to him, to see his eyes connect with hers, one last time.
And then her eyes closed.
She was gone.
No comfort would come. No joy would return. No balm could heal the wound that now tore at his heart.
No comfort could stop the sobs that racked his body or fill the emptiness that had quickly just crept in.