Her Beginning
"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." – John 15:13
The pain in Joss's chest was unfathomable. She had never felt such pain before. The pain she encountered when she was wounded by the bomb in Fallujah, the pain she experienced giving birth to her son Taylor, they were horrible. This pain; this was different. She felt the warm liquid flowing from her core and her breathing was becoming more and more labored. She was growing cold and felt the coolness of the concrete on which she landed so hard after Simmons' bullet ripped into her chest. She felt John crawl beneath her trying to prop her up. He could only do so much because he was losing blood from the two bullet wounds he had suffered himself.
When Joss hit the pavement, she immediately thought of her son. Taylor. Her pride and joy. She knew she was mortally wounded and that she wasn't going to make it. She struggled to take a breath and began to panic. The pain was getting worse and she winced at its effects. All she could do was rest on his chest in his arms. She couldn't move. Everything happened so fast, but even then she was fighting.
"I need to see my boy," she struggled. "I...I need to tell him…" It was as though she was searching for him as she was speaking. Her head went right then left, her eyes desperately seeking, as if she could get one last glimpse of him.
Joss was having trouble catching her breath. Her dark eyes were wide with fright and tears were flowing from them. Not because of her impending death, but because she realized after making that statement, she would not have a chance to see Taylor again. The emotional pain of knowing that almost equaled the physical pain in her chest.
She heard John trying to reassure her. "And you will, you will. Just stay with me."
She felt she only had seconds to make sure John would look in on Taylor. She made him promise her that he would. John reassured her that Taylor already knew that she fiercely loved him and that she didn't want to leave him. It helped to comfort her.
Joss began to blink her eyes. She was losing her sight. Death was beginning to overtake her and as much as she fought, this was a battle she would not win. This was happening too fast. She still had so much to say to her son, her mother, her family… and John. There was so much left unsaid between them.
"So this is death. This is how it feels. This is how I'm going out," she thought.
She had to tell John something. She had to get it out before it was too late.
"John," she whispered. "Don't let this..." she tried. She fought to get the last words out. Joss's eyes went completely dark and she could no longer see. She closed her eyes and felt John's hand under her chin and slowly bowed her head.
She was gone. So quickly. It was as if she had fallen asleep. She didn't have a chance to finish her statement to remind him not to let her death change him, to not let this stop him from his mission of saving lives. Death was cruel. Death was cold. Death cheated her.
Joss felt light as she got up from the concrete and left John's vice grip. It was a surreal feeling and she never felt this way before. She noticed the pain in her chest was gone and she was able to breathe without any discomfort. She inhaled deeply. It felt so good to be able to breathe freely. She looked around and saw Finch standing in the middle of the street with a look of shock and disbelief on his face. A light smile graced her face but it quickly fell. She wondered what he was looking at. She followed his gazed and turned around. Joss looked down and saw John crying uncontrollably while holding onto her lifeless body.
"What the hell is going on?"
She stood there in disbelief, but then she remembered. Officer Simmons had stepped out of the shadows and pointed his gun at her and John. She pulled out her side arm, but she wasn't fast enough.
"No, not today!" she had yelled.
She had tried to protect John by stepping in between him and Simmons. He had no gun to defend himself, and had been shot twice. Joss was determined to protect her friend, the man she had grown to care for so deeply.
She had decided to shield John the only way she knew how. She stepped in front of him and fired at Simmons. Her bullet had connected ripping a hole in his left shoulder. But as he was shooting, a lone bullet tore through the center of her chest.
She remembered. She stood over her body and watched John rock her in his arms. He wouldn't let her go. She witnessed him kissing her forehead, her hand and saw the tears racing down his face as his skin turned red in despair. She heard his muffled cries against her face. She saw his deep anguish and wanted to comfort him, but she couldn't.
The pay phone finally stopped its incessant ringing.
In the distance, she heard sirens piercing the new found silence. Joss saw Finch walk over to where John and she were laying on the sidewalk. Finch began telling John that they had to go; that the authorities would be there any moment.
John raised his eyes to see Finch's watery eyes and trembling, outstretched hands. John shook his head no and looked back down at her lifeless body. He was not going to leave her like this. He refused to leave her alone. Harold desperately pleaded with John to let her go. He told John that they would go to his car and wait until help arrived before they left. At first John refused, but he reluctantly agreed with his employer.
John gently moved from underneath Joss and gingerly laid her on the ground. Although she was gone, he in no way wanted to accidentally drop her. He handled and touched her with such reverence. He caressed her still warm cheek and wiped away the tears from her face. He ran his fingers through her hair and laid her straightened tresses on either side of her face. He gave her the gentlest kiss on the lips and lingered there for a few moments. He could only see her through a blur of tears.
His body felt heavy with grief and standing upright was a great effort for him. Harold then drew closer to John and helped him off the ground. They both limped toward Finch's sedan. John repeatedly looked over his shoulder at Joss's body. John was bleeding out and Finch refused to let another one of his friends die. He slowly settled John in the backseat. After getting behind the wheel and starting the car, John yelled at him.
"Don't leave her," John weakly cried.
John was surprised at how he sounded as he heard the panic and grief in his voice. Finch reassured him that he would not leave Joss; he only wanted to be prepared for a speedy departure once the paramedics arrived. Finch's heart was pounding and he was trying to focus on the task at hand. He would not lose John. He couldn't focus on the shock and grief welling up in him over his fallen comrade. He had to take care of his dear friend. He had to push back the feeling of guilt that was already beginning to insidiously creep into his thoughts.
While the car engine gently purred, Finch called Detective Fusco.
"Hey glasses, isn't it past your bedtime?" Fusco kidded.
Finch closed his eyes and said, "Detective, I have some terrible news," he tried to sound calm as his mouth felt like dry sand.
He couldn't fool the detective, though. Fusco sensed that Finch was shaken up and he fell silent. As Finch told him what just happened to his partner, Fusco's heart began pounding and he could hardly catch his breath. It felt like he had just been kicked in the gut. He was hoping that the birdman was making a joke, but deep down he knew better. Finch never would joked in such a way.
Fusco unceremoniously hung up on Finch. He immediately grabbed his coat and gave some officers a cryptic explanation of what happened and told them to follow him as he ran out of the precinct. With sirens screeching, the police were en route to her location.