Had a couple of Jonnie one-shot requests since my last one about the motorway, and I had an hour to spare earlier so here you are!

There's a mean cliffhanger, apologies ;) Those of you who know my fics well know that this could go one of two ways... I'll say nothing more.

It's short, but is only part 1 of, at the minute, 2 parts (the other half I'll update tomorrow) so it will end up around 1,000 words if all goes to plan :D

Hope you enjoy and reviews would be welcomed! -Sophie x

Her hands trembled as she held the cold metallic gun in front of her. Connie stood in a standoff with the Nigerian woman, both still bar the rapid rise and fall of their chests and the object the clinical lead just couldn't control. She hated that feeling, of not having power over her own body, but she hated the gun even more. Jacob had gone for it; she'd seen him out of the corner of her eye. But she knew what would happen if the authorities caught him like that. He'd be mistaken for one of them, she was sure of it.

And there was no way on earth she would let that happen.

"Go go go!"

The sounds of the police broke the tense silence as they flooded into the room. Before she knew what was happening, a gun was fired that was not her own and her legs gave way beneath her.

"No! She's one of us!" Jacob roared, immediately dropping to his knees. "Connie listen, you're gonna be alright yeah- Big Mac, trolley now!"

The world became to spin, round and round as if she were on a roulette wheel, with no clue as to where she would land; on Life or Death.

The bullet had penetrated her shoulder, and it was deep: even in her state, Connie knew it was bad.

Everything became staggered, one room jolted to the next as she was whisked away on a trolley. It was there she became aware of the pain: shock and fear has masked it at first, dominating her conscience until she reached the safety net of resus. There she began to scream.

"Connie, Connie you've gotta stay still-" Rita tried soothing her as she attached a thrashing wrist to an IV line. At the foot of her bed, Jacob stood frozen as the scene unfolded before him. He could cope with the blood, Lord knows he'd seen enough of that in his lifetime, and he could even manage with the atmosphere that was heavy with tension and panic.

But the one thing the nurse couldn't stand was the noise. The overwhelming, heart-wrenching screams of pain and terror coming from his beloved clinical lead. Her entire frame shook with the effort of staying alive, of staying with them and her voice cracked as a fresh flood of tears spilled down her face and pooled on the pillow behind her. The woman's freckles glistened with tears of horror, and her eyes mirrored those of a rabbit caught in the headlights as she said the same phrase over and over again in her mind, unbeknown to Jacob, as the world finally went dark;

My name is Connie Beauchamp, and I am about to die.

...