One Shot

One shot. Five minutes. That was all it took for their lives to change forever.

The coffee cup in her hand was the first to fall down, crashing down on the concrete, the dark brown coffee poured out of the paper cup, the grey ground was colored darker, and the cup was taken by the wind and blown away, further down the street that was littered by people screaming, ducking, and staring.

Only one second before she had laughed, her eyes had twinkled after telling him a joke, she had found it on the internet, and it was the third time that day she had told it. He had smiled back at her, taken a sip of his own coffee, he was always amazed by her childish awe of the world, but at times the fact that she knew about the cruel side of the world would shine through, and her childish wonder was swiped away.

He had turned to tell her a joke his son had came up with on his own, it was lame, but cute anyway, and she had looked at him when he opened his mouth, but he was cut short by a loud bang, and she stumbled backwards, her cup hit the concrete, and he stared at her.

"Bones!" people were screaming, and an other shot was heard, and then an other, but he couldn't move, his Bones was shot, staring at him. It felt like hours, she blinked, and when she opened them again they were stained with tears, and a gasp fell from her mouth, and then a whimper. He looked down on her white shirt, the white shirt was turning red, and her hand was holding the wound. Her hands were shaking, and he wanted to reach out and steady them, tell her that everything was going to be ok.

Her knees gave in.

Boom. Boom.

The bullets that were flying through the air were dulled, almost silent compared to his blood pumping in his ears.

Her knees met the concrete, and then her elbows, and then she was lying there. She turned around and looked up at him. Her lips were trembling, and down her face, and seconds were still hours.

He was sitting next to her suddenly, pressing down on the wound, and she gasped for breathe. She looked at him with big eyes, he was supposed to save her, he was supposed to be her hero, but he didn't know what to do.

"Bones, Bones, you need to" he didn't know what she needed to do, right now all he wanted her to do was to live, breathe, smile. How to you ask a person who has just been shot to smile? "You need to hang on, ok, hang on, be strong" the words became a mess in his head, and he didn't know how many times he repeated for her to hang on, but she nodded, her lips were starting to turn red and that wasn't supposed to happen, that couldn't happen.

"Booth" she said, breaking him out of his own thoughts, and she tilted her head backwards and coughed. Red. Her teeth, her lips were red. Her spit was red. "Mhm, please" a clumsy shaking hand fell on top of his. He could see in her eyes that she was in pain, hear in her short breathes that she was trying, she was trying so hard. "I love... I love all of you... Tell" her chest shook, this was too hard for her "them" and all he could was nod. His face was wet from sweat and tears, and it hurt so much in his chest that he thought he might've been shot too.

"I love you Temperence, I love you so much" he managed to say between sobs. He rested his head on her chest "So you got to survive, Bones, you have to, for me, for Angela, for all of the squints" he paused. "I don't know what we'd do without you" he couldn't barely go a week without missing her, his chest would feel cramped and he would get slightly claustrophobic, and he didn't know how he would survive a whole lifetime without her close by.

And she tried, he knew she tried. Every breathe she took seemed like a challenge, how she stopped herself from moaning in pain just to relieve his. He bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead, held his lips there, crying. And he felt how her chest stilled under his hands; how she drifted off to never breathe again.

And when he held her in his arms, crying to God, asking him why he had to take her, the street was still in chaos, and everywhere people were screaming.