4. Disarmed

Prompt: Your take on the first time Sharon shot someone?

A/N: I bumped this one up the list (I promise to get to all of the prompts ASAP) because it seemed relevant at the moment. It is awfully short, but I thought it fit best...

Enjoy!


There was a tinging in her ears she fears would never go away. The ambulance made no audible sound to her as it drove full away at full speed. Here eyes blurred the flashing lights in front of her. There was a piece of her that kept devilishly saying, "At least it wasn't you."

And she was glad it had not been her, but she felt terrible for feeling so.

Her gun hung idly by her side.

"Rook," her officer called, his calm hand waving her over to the IA detective. "Need your weapon, Raydor." Her fingers shook as she released the gun into the paper evidence bag. Her fingers as far away from the trigger. The detective nodded. "They'll want your statement. Then go home. We'll see you tomorrow." With a pat on her back, her officer was gone.

The detective quietly asked her the basic questions; "What had happened?", "What was the threat?", "Why did you pull the trigger?" But the real question was, "Where did you hit the suspect?"

Thee vents flashed before her eyes.

"I fired three shots," Sharon said.

"Where did you hit the suspect?" The detective pressed.

"Shoulder?" Sharon asked. She wasn't sure. What if it wasn't the shoulder? It could have been his chest. There was a lot of blood. "Oh God," Sharon whispered. She raised her hand to cover her mouth. She could taste to residue from the gun as she breathed.

The detective understood. "Go home. If I have nay more questions for you, I can ask them tomorrow."

She didn't break down until her feet were firmly on the hardwood floor in her entrance hall. She didn't know how she got there; who knew her address?

With shaky breaths and quiet sobs, Sharon made her way towards her bathroom.

"Sharon?" Jack called. He was lying in bed. His back towards her. "It's late," he mumbled. Sharon didn't say anything.

The shower was a welcomed distraction. The scalding hot water managed to wash through her skin to her core. Just what she needed.

I'll call in tomorrow, She thought, see if the suspect is alive, or, not, then go to church.

Sharon let out a breath as Jack walked into the bathroom; the stifling humidity escaping to their bedroom.

"I'm not going to have any hot water tomorrow, Sharon," Jack muttered as he did his business. Sharon tilted her head into the spray, the hot droplets piercing and hiding her tears.

With the click of the latch, Sharon sunk to the floor. The tiles, warmed by the water, were slimy against her skin.

She curled her knees against her breasts and muffled her mouth both hands as she let out a scream.

"At least it wasn't you."

The little boy in the next room would have another day with his mother. She would be able to give him cuddles tomorrow.

The guy she shot might not.

The fact he was monster did nothing to squelch her feelings. He robbed a gas station and jewelry store, injuring two people, but he didn't kill them.

Her head bowed. Wet hair dripped water down her back and sides, sticking to any skin it touched.

When the water started to run cold, Sharon stood up. Her life would carry on. His might not. She shut off the tap and stepped out, grabbing her towel from the hook. Her hair would curl by morning, but she wasn't worried about that. Sharon slipped on the pajamas and padded softly into Ricky's room. Her son was sleeping soundly on his side with a stuffed dinosaur tucked under his arm. Sharon placed a kiss on his soft hair.

Her phone rang. Quickly, Sharon dug through her bag and answered it.

"Raydor," she said.

"Rook. The guy lived. You hit his shoulder twice, through-and-throughs, and bicep."

"Thank you," Sharon breathed. "I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I'll send the papers in later." There was a soft grunt from the other side of the phone. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well next time, make sure they die." The line clicked.

Ricky was safe. The suspect was alive.

Sharon was exhausted.

She climbed into bed next to Jack and pulled the comforter tight around her body. He would probably tug it towards his side at some point, but for right not, she had control.


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