Disclaimer: I sadly do not own anything to do with Primeval. *sadface*
A/N: My muse has literally deserted me. Any ideas or prompts for a story would be very helpful right now :L This is a very short one shot. I hope you enjoy reading it (even though it's not a very happy story) This has had to be re-uploaded since this site has been saying it's had no chapters. Thank you to the two reviewers from before hand!
Warnings: Character Death.
Senses:
His sense of touch was the first thing to go. He felt the bolt of pain shoot through his body, radiating from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, which was lying against the rocky terrain underneath him. He felt the burning in his chest as he gasped for breath. As he welcomed the numbness to take away all of his agony he felt it, he felt her. He felt the splashes on his face as her tears mixed with his and ran down his dirty and bloody cheek. He felt her hand in his as she squeezed it tight, and he never wanted to let go.
His senses of smell and taste were next to go. The aroma of iron from the mass of blood that seemed to surround him endlessly was overpowering to him, attacking his nostrils and making his stomach roll. His mouth felt fuzzy, a taste of blood lingering on his teeth and tongue. She bent down, placing a desperate kiss against his swollen and bruised lips, a kiss full of pleads for help and an endless love. He could taste her then, taste her kiss on his lips, and the scent of her surrounded him.
His sense of hearing went next. He could faintly hear the bellows of people as they scurried around helplessly around his fallen body. A ringing in his ears made him feel light headed and he could hear his heart hammering in his chest loudly. Too loudly. He could hear the ring of the ambulances sirens, too far away to help. He heard her. Her pleads for help, her tearful questions. "You can't give up now!" The words span around his head, adding to the dizziness. He heard her alternating screams of anguish and whispers of pure love spoken to him as if no one were around to hear them, in his own private world. Or what seemed to be his own private hell.
His sense of sight went next. He could see the blue of the sky and the odd patches of white as the clouds passed overhead. He could see the numerous trees, the dark mud on the floor and the shine on the puddles as the sunlight hit them. He could see the anomaly in the distance, flickering and pulsing away in mid-air, locked to secure that nothing else came through, no more disasters happened. Too little. Too late. He could see her. He held her gaze, his dark brown eyes looking directly into the blue eyes that shone from her tears. He could see the distraught look in her eyes, the pleads for him to stay awake, to not leave her all alone. He could see how much she loved him. She was telling him, the words formed on her lips, spoken through her watery eyes.
His last touch, taste, smell, sound and sight were of her, and that was all that mattered. He mustered all his energy into squeezing her hand before his heavy lids closed tightly, a silent darkness engulfing him.
The End.