Title: Persevere
Disclaimer: 28 Weeks Later and characters belongs to their respected owners.
Summary: When I watched 28 Weeks Later when it first came out, I enjoyed Sgt. Doyle's storyline and thought it was a horrible way the character was killed off. Yeah, it was a brave thing he did, but I'm just saying... Anyway, not to bore you with my reason, I tried to remember some things from the movie, so I tried to remember bits and pieces starting with that scene, but everything else is made up. Also, I hate summaries...Enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

Sergeant Doyle waited until all of the infected people were dead by the poisonous gas, covered his mouth with the turtle neck he wore underneath his fatigues, and glanced over at Scarlett who sat breathlessly in the passenger seat of the car they took cover in. Their eyes met for a moment before she glanced up to the rear-view mirror to see the three flame-throwing soldiers slowly approached them as they finished off the infected bodies. His eyes were on them too, but only for a moment as he glanced back at the two frightened kids he wanted to help.

"Everything will be okay," Doyle assured them. "We're going to get you two out of here." He turned to Scarlett.

"When I get out, take the driver's seat, and I'll push the car until you get it started" Doyle told Ross. "Okay?"

She nodded.

He was ready. "Okay." Nodding once, he quickly jumped out of the car with his sniper rifle in hand. He slammed the door quickly and raised his weapon at the approaching soldiers. Infected or not, it didn't matter to them. It mattered to him, but the lives of these survivors mattered to him most of all. He had to get the children out of here.

The gas was causing his eyelids to turn red and his eyes were slowly starting to become bloodshot as it started to effect them. He choked from the gas when it burned his airways; he felt like he was drowning in water. He blinked his blurring vision and took aim. One of the soldiers armed with an assault rifle quickly raised his gun when he saw him get out of the car, but Doyle shot him once in the gas-mask covering the man's face, and the bullet went through the man's skull - exploding the back of the soldier's head. Parts of brain matter, bone fragments and blood sprayed out from the back of his skull as the limp body went down. The finger of the dead man pulled the trigger before the splattered brain's signal to the digit was impeded and the single bullet pierced into the sergeant's upper right thigh.

Doyle doubled over in intense agony, dropping to a knee and an elbow. With his free hand, he pressed down on the wound as blood poured out of the entry room. He growled in annoyance at the freshly new bodily pain as he willed himself to finish the last two soldiers off.

One shot fired.

A couple shots more brought both of them down before they could ignite him on fire, and they were seconds away from doing so. He groaned, painstakingly moving to his feet, and feeling the blood soaking his fingerless glove and pouring between his fingers. He practically staggered over to the car and slammed into the back of it. The occupants inside the vehicle gasped in terror, and the two kids stared at him wide-eyed. In the driver's seat, Major Scarlett Ross stared at him as he pressed his hands against the rear window, spearing blood on one side.

He gazed back at them, turning pale from the loss of blood and the gas, not knowing how long his shirt would help, which won't be long until he could get into fresh air and seek medical attention. Determined as ever and keeping his one goal in mind, he pushed the car gradually forward until he heard Scarlett finally being able to turn it on. She stopped the car so he could get in. Doyle then staggered around the car, applying pressure to his wound as he made his way around to the driver's side. He leaned back against the car for a moment, breathing raspy breaths and groaning. With a trembling hand he managed to open the door on his own.

"Let me drive." He choked out.

The major, not wanting to keep the door open any longer with a protest, quickly slid back over to the passenger seat and let him climb in behind the wheel. She reached over to a pocket on his tactical vest, but he stopped her.

"No..." he panted.

"The bullet got you in the artery," she replied, trying to stay calm as she watched the blood pour profusely out between his hand. "You could die."

"I won't..." Doyle murmured incoherently under his breath. "Not yet."

Scarlett frowned, feeling defeated when she was trying to help, but he was right. They had to go. He sped off down the street, looking for a way to Wembly Stadium.

Once they cleared out of harms way from the gas, Doyle pulled down the fabric from his face, and grimaced in pain more times than he could count. His skin paled more and became cold and clammy with a thin layer of sweat. The soldier was entering the first stage of shock, and it won't be long until...

No.

He had to keep going.

He had to protect them.

They needed to get out of there, and he would be damned to let them die.

'Damn it.' Doyle thought when he caught himself nodding off. A low moan escaped his parted lips and his eyelids drooped slightly over his eyes, and his vision blurred more. And yet, he kept on speeding down the street, narrowly missing cars that were scattered around the street.

"Doyle, you should pull over now and let me drive." insisted the major. "That's an order."

Doyle faintly shook his head. "There's no time to stop."

They heard swift blades from a helicopter closing in on them, and fast. His glassy eyes gazed at the side-view mirror when he noticed it was an attack helicopter.

"Shit..." he muttered, pushing on the accelerator all the way down to the floor.

Tammy and Andy turned around to look up at the helicopter, and then screamed when it fired rounds of armor-piercing bullets at them. Doyle moved out of the way just in time, and watched the area where they were explode with hundreds of bullets that could rip the car and them apart. He gritted his teeth, trying to stay awake as he cursed silently at the speedometer. Crashing through trash and debris in the street, he saw signs that pointed to the London Underground System, and headed toward it's direction with the helicopter on their tail.

"Keep your heads down!" Doyle desperately told them. Although, it won't help them that much if the bullets from the helicopter make contact with the car, and yet, it sounded comforting at the time to know they are a little more safer.

The two siblings covered their heads as they kept low in the backseat, while Scarlett hid behind the passenger seat, keeping her eyes on him and on Tammy and Andy. Chest heaving up and down, Doyle's heart raced with adrenaline, and unfortunately pumped more out of the gunshot wound, but he ignored his weakening state until he was able to get them all into a safe place in the London Underground System.

He maneuvered the car through the large building for a while, and stopped several feet away from the escalators. The sergeant couldn't fight to stay awake anymore, and blacked out. His body went limp and his head smacked into the wheel, causing the horn to go off. Scarlett gasped and quickly leaned him back against the seat. As Tammy comforted her brother while they watched , Scarlett pressed her two fingers up against Doyle's neck to check his pulse. She cursed silently when she felt a very low one, but was glad to note that he was still breathing. She rummaged through his pockets of his tactical vest and found another pack she used for herself when she was shot, and started to wrap it around his thigh.

Once she secured it around his leg, she went to try to wake him up.

"Doyle," Scarlett whispered, "Sergeant Doyle?" She gently shaking his shoulders. "Sergeant Doyle, can you hear me? Please wake up?" She repeated several times, but he didn't respond.

She checked his pulse again when she thought of the worst, and waited until her fingertips picked up a beat. It was weak, but there. She glanced at Tammy when she heard her whisper to her.

"Is he...dead?" asked Tammy nervously.

"No, he's not," Scarlett explained, "His pulse is faint and he's still breathing." She paused and looked down at his wounded thigh where her free hand was down on to apply a firm pressure over it to stop the bleeding. "He only passed out." Now, she wondered what to do. Leave him here to take the siblings to where they needed to go, or wait until he wakes up? They couldn't wait too long. The pilot of the helicopter who was shooting at them had to have called in for backup to find them.

While his wound and her thoughts on what to do kept her attention, Doyle slowly regained consciousness. It was difficult to wake up, but he willed himself to get out of the dreamless sleep he was under. He groggily gazed at the windshield and then down at Scarlett. His hand cupped her face, scaring her. She looked at him. Doyle stared at her through tired eyes and then pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear. His voice wasn't audible to the two children, but she could hear him as he spoke to her.

"Take my sniper rifle," he murmured, "And take the kids with you and get out of here."

"No," She pulled back a little. "You have to come with us."

Doyle started to chuckle. "Don't use that 'No man left behind' shit on me, Major," He glanced up at the rear-view mirror and eyed Tammy and Andy. His eyes grim. "Their lives are more important and you know that..." He then added, "If there are other soldiers or more of the infected who end up coming in here...at least I can do is slow them down to give you three time to get out of this hellhole." He lowered his hand to lightly pat the handgun strapped to his other thigh.

Doyle avoided her disproving gaze by closing his eyes, and he waited for her decision while sitting quietly. He hoped she would make the right choice to leave him here and take the kids with her.

Scarlett glanced at the backseat and then at him. "You're going with us," she said, "I'm not leaving you here."

"Jesus Christ!" His voice was forced out in an angry tone as he opened his eyes to glare at her, startling everyone in the vehicle. "Get the kids, take my gun, and get out of here, damn it." He quickly pulled off the shoulder strap that was hooked on his sniper rifle, and practically shoved the weapon at her. "Go." He whispered.

Scarlett and Doyle stared at one another for half a minute, and then with a sigh, she slowly nodded. "Lets go." She quietly whispered to the children in the backseat.

Tammy whispered to Andy to follow her out after the major jumped out of the car with Doyle's gun in hand. They looked at each other, and then quietly headed to the top of the escalators. Back in the car, Doyle cautiously watched them through drooping eyelids. He pulled out his handgun before slowly sliding down on his side across the front seat. His eyes flickered and closed involuntarily, and he returned to the world of darkness that tried to succumb him in its grasp. He fought yet again.

...tbc?