A/N: Death!fic. Hints at suicide.
The Pull Of Darkness
There's too much blood. It's red, dark red, and so very sticky. It's all over her hands.
There's not enough noise. She can hear her own breathing, ragged, uneven, but nothing else. All else stands still and silent. He is silent, unable to spare even a breath.
She can smell the copper of his blood, getting stronger by the minute. She can almost taste it. It makes her sick to imagine it coating her tongue and her throat, yet she can't shake the image.
She's drowning and can feel herself being dragged under, but finds she doesn't care. She welcomes the pull of darkness, of death.
Death has taken him and she goes wherever he does.
fin.