Author's Note: I do not own anything.
She lay face down on the cold pavement. She could hear the shuffling feet of her enemies move around her.
"Is she dead?" one of them says.
Juliet closes her eyes and holds her breath—trying to be as dead as she could.
"Yeah," the other says, obviously the follower.
"Good, let's go," the leader says and she hears them exit the warehouse.
She finally feels the cool puddle forming under her stomach. And even though she wants to, she cannot move. Another lurch of pain rips though her frail body. For one second, she was thankful to feel anything, worried she was slipping from reality.
The next, she regrets ever being born. She tries to pull in air, but her lungs aren't working properly. Each time she opens her mouth, nothing happens. Her mouth opens and closes until, finally, she pulls in the smallest jagged breath. But it is all she needs to carry on.
She's dying, she knows it.
It is not a burning pain—no it is much worse. It is a stabbing pain. It slashes again and again as she breathes in and out. She knows that if she could just flip over, the pain would lessen greatly. But she can't will herself to follow through.
Juliet closes her eyes and looks at the blackness before her. It is nothing, but seems to stretch on forever. She wonders aimlessly how such a thing is possible: endless nothing.
For minutes (or is it hours?) she studies the dark side of her eye lids. It is round. It is black. But there are so many questions she has about something so simple.
Is there really darkness or just an absence of light? Is it shadows she sees? From what are the shadows produced? And what is on the other side of the black?
She knows the answer to the last one: she just needs to open her eyes to see it.
What seems like years later, she wonders why no help has come yet?
Then she remembers. Ah, she thinks, this is not a real case. Nobody knows I'm even here.
She is still afraid to open her eyes, not wanting to see what has happened.
But she cannot forget it—
Shawn called. He had said, "Can you check out the address 781 La Grange Avenue?" Juliet knew he meant to look it up. Find out who owned the abandoned warehouse. To see what used to be kept there. But she felt the need to know more. So she decided to check it out in person—a mistake that could be costing her more than she knew.
She opened the back door entrance. Inside she saw many men—all big, tough, and tattooed. But she was strong. She had to be for the job she had. And without thinking, she yelled, "Police, stop what you're doing!"
Most of the men had scurried off before she could count to three. But two remained.
She hesitated on the trigger of her gun for less than a second but it was already too late.
The shot still rang in her ears.
She knew her phone was just inches from her hand, but she could not move to retrieve it. Her arms were numb. Too numb. Juliet doubted she would ever use them again.
In her mind, she tried to bring up memories of all the people she loved incase at any second she died; she would be thinking something she loved as her last thought.
Her parents: she remembered when she first rode the school bus, her parents waved until she was out of sight. Juliet remembered how when she was eleven, they wouldn't let her go to the beach with her friend, Elizabeth. She had stormed upstairs and slammed the door. On her graduation day, they arrived late and missed her getting her diploma because they were doing with Ewin. She remembered how her mother had wept when she told them she was moving from Florida to California. How her father had patted her on the shoulder and told her how proud he was.
Lassie, oh, Lassie. Shawn's little nickname had stuck with everyone, even the Chief. Lassiter's face filled her darkness and she laughed. He always had something a little off with him. Even though he had depressingly beautiful blue eyes, she finally realized his ears were just a little too big. She thought of when he visited her family during Christmas. Or when he and Shawn saved her from that crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy bitch. And that time they were one a stakeout and Shawn had stowed away in the back seat…
For some reason, Shawn kept slipping into every scene she remembered. She didn't like it so she pushed those thoughts away.
But it was too late.
Shawn filled her mind. Partly, she was lovin' it. His face was as beautiful as his personality. She laughed every time they were around eachother. She loved the way his eyes danced like a child's. She loved how funny he was. She loved him.
But her heart sank when she remembered how he'd rejected her. Three cracks in her heart that just wouldn't heal. When he had left (well he was never with her to begin with) her for Abigail at the movie. When he had said he loved her, only to negate it with a, "Goodbye, Abigail." And most recently, when he had picked Abigail over herself when they were both taken. Of course, she had told him too. It was the right thing to do. But why?
Somebody, she thought, anybody, has to know I'm gone.
Yet the warehouse lay silent.
Subconsciously, she pulled in a deep breath and sighed. A roaring pain started in her stomach and ripped throughout her entire body. She whimpered softly, not daring to scream.
Why did her death have to take to damn long?
Why did it have to hurt so much?
Everything in her life seemed unfair, she realized.
Her brother was the famous army spy (if that makes sense) and her mother had the prettier eyes. Her father got the humor in the family. And Juliet? She was just a Junior Detective with pale eyes and pale hair.
Shawn was unbelievably smart and hilarious. Gus was allowed to be near him all the time. Lassiter was the Head Detective and could very well be funnier than her. The Chief had all the confidence she never had.
Everyone she knew was better than her. And it was just plain unfair. It's like God had forgotten to give her an outstanding quality.
As Juliet lay in a pool of her own blood, too afraid to open her own eyes, she did something she hadn't done in years; she prayed.
"JULES!" she finally heard. It was a pained cry of distress but it sounded sweeter than an angel's song.
"JULES!" Shawn screamed again as he got closer. "Oh my God, Jules please open your eyes. Say anything. Please, Jules," he begged.
He shook her limp body and another wave of pain crashed on her, but she was too numb to ever register it. She just wanted it to end more than anything. She hated to die in front of Shawn, but that was just another unfairness to her—something she was used to.
Shawn pleaded with her, "Jules stay with me. Please. Jules, I love you. Don't leave me."
Mild shock ran threw her veins. He loved her. How unfair that he would decide until the last minutes of her life to tell her this.
Her eyes fluttered open. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw.
His face was so painfully sad, she began to cry. His hazel eyes wept along with her.
The pain took a hold of her mind and her eyes lids felt heavy. They slowly slid closed.
"No," Shawn whispered to her. "Jules, stay with me."
But the darkness became too much for her to handle, so she let it overtake her, hoping she would be able to resurface one last time. But it was too strong and she wished she had never closed her eyes. She used all her strength to come back, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't reach the reality she so eagerly left behind.
The last thing she heard was a shaky statement that echoed in her mind. "I love you, Juliet."
End Notes:
So do you think Juliet died? Please review and tell me what you think.