I kind of didn't want to get into anything too plot intensive too quickly after finishing my last so forgive me if that's kind of what you were looking or hoping for. This is a series of one-shots about Jules' recovery. This is kind of like a photoalbum in a way. Where it has moments. And it's the same characters and often the same places and settings and relationships. But it's not a continuous story. Anyway I hope you enjoy it.
I suck at titles and have recently taken to ripping them from songs. Yeah. I'm clearly super creative. Not that I think the record companies would bother, but just to cover my ass Imma let y'all know that it's from Patty Griffin's Long Ride Home - which is a beautiful song by the way.
Disclaimer: T'is not I that owneth Flashpoint. Or Patty Griffins.
... ... ... ... ...
It's a decoy. Fall back! Fall back now, take cover!
Ed's voice, angrily booming through her earpiece, didn't have time to register,
Pain slammed through her. It coursed through every bone, every muscle, every nerve. It was like an explosion, ripping through her body. The agony was white-hot. Her chest felt like it was on fire, the pressure unbearable. There was a sick slide of sticky, wet warmth under her vest.
The world stopped.
Her gun dropped to the wooden slats of the roof with a thud too dull for her numbed ears to hear. And the ground rose up to meet her.
She tried to breathe but each tiny movement sent off waves of pain that shot through her. It was overwhelming.
Sam's voice was frantic. She didn't understand the words. Suddenly he was crouching beside her, the shield carefully propped on his arm. Shots resonated as they pinged uselessly against the metal barrier. He pressed down on her chest, against the vest and the weeping wound beneath. She gasped with pain.
Stay with me Jules. Stay with me.
She tried. She struggled to keep her eyes opens. The adrenalin is fading now, and the only thing left is the pain. Her eyelids drop – they're so heavy. She's so tired. And cold. Her teeth chattered.
Stay with me.
She couldn't. She fought the rising flood of black. But found the lulling calm of sleep too great.
Goodbye Sam.
The words came out as a garbled rasp.
And she slipped under.