A/N: Thanks for all your reviews, Toge! I'm really glad you've stuck with
me so far! I'm sorry to say, there may only be a couple more chapter left
(have I already said that?), anyway... I have yet to talk, though! :D
"John..." Paul started, faintly. He was lost for words from then on, and just waited and watched as the big prisoner made his way to perform his miracle task once more.
Monica's eyes were wide as she stared up at John Coffey, who approached her with such silence and carefulness for one as large as he that she thought the man was almost gliding across the floor.
"What are you going to do?" she asked the man who stood above her at such a towering height.
"Save his life," John replied simply. "That's what I can do."
No questions asked, Monica let the inmate stoop beside her and trail his eyes to where her right hand was pressed to slow the bleeding of Percy's wound. She took her hand away cautiously, as John's replaced it.
Paul, Dean, Harry, Brutus and Monica all watched, their eyes transfixed on what was forming about them.
The greatest look of concentration came over John's face as he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, muttering words only Monica could hear from her close distance.
"I can feel it, it's right there, I've almost got it," John sighed as if he were a mechanic replacing parts to a car. "I can feel it just there." His hand gripped the wounded area tighter and Monica feared for a moment that the man was going to kill Percy instead of heal him, and then the lights began to flicker...
"What's happening?" Monica mouthed, but no words came as John never loosened his death-grip, and Percy started to tense, and the lights were flickering madly, and everyone looked glassy-eyed and suddenly...
Something stopped, and something started; then John pulled his hand away. Sweat rolled down his forehead in beads as he staggered back to make room and gasp in exhaustion. While the guards accompanied him, Percy stirred in Monica's lap.
Her jaw dropped. Under the blood, there was nothing. Not even a bullet.
"He saved him, you saved him, he saved you," Monica sobbed in a mixture between talking to herself, to John and to Percy. "Oh my God, this can't BE..."
Percy blinked and stared up at Monica, confused as to where he was.
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE ALIVE!" Monica shrieked, and in a second, she was smothering him.
"What - are - you - doing!?" Percy was able to utter through kisses. "You're crazy!"
"PERCY, you're alive, you're alive, you're alive!" Monica cried, throwing her arms around his neck. He started to gag. "I never thought you'd live after that, I never thought the medics would come in time, I thought you weren't going to survive, I never thought I'd talk to you again or hear your voice or anything, oh Percy!"
"Oh, Monica! Get off!" Percy struggled out from under Monica, which was a very hard job, indeed. "What's come over you?" he panted.
"You'd been shot!" Monica breathed wearily.
"Shot!?" Percy looked around in confusion for a second, then looked down at himself, covered in blood. "Ahhh! Some crazy sonofabitch's shot me!" He began to panic.
"No, no, no!" Monica said hurriedly. "You're all right!"
"I've been shot, how can I be all right?" Percy asked faintly while staring down at himself and really looking about to faint.
She opened her mouth to answer the truth, thought twice about it, then took a great sigh. "A mere flesh wound," she said. "It's not as bad as it looks, obviously. You were knocked unconscious, and we fished the bullet out."
"Well, thank God," Percy grumbled. "Who did it?"
"Um..." Monica seemed to be deciding an answer. Then she pointed to a gory carcass in the corner of one of the jail cells.
"Whoa..." Percy seemed to be remembering what had happened, just very slowly. "Who did THAT?"
"Me," Monica mouthed, but the guilty look on her face could have told him just as easily.
"Monica? You?..." Percy put a hand to his forehead as if to check his temperature for a dilusional warmth, but all he came back with was a hand drenched in cold sweat.
"Don't make this any harder," she grumbled. Then her eyes began to shimmer as the corners brimmed with tears. "And I thought - I thought - Percy! Don't you care that - you would have - you could have -"
"It was just a flesh wound," Percy replied calmly as Monica leapt into his arms gently, now acting as if he were the most fragile thing on the planet.
"I love you," Monica said tearfully, comfortingly against Percy's healthy rising and falling chest. "Never, ever, ever go."
"Likewise," Percy sighed into a bunch of Monica's hair which he believed to be covering her ear, then stared up at the ceiling while she cried her eyes out as women often do during what she thought to be happy situations such as these; something he would never understand. But if it was what Monica wanted, then fine by him.
It didn't take long for him to get the idea of her comfort before he instinctively held her while she continued to cling to him.
While the two of them shared their moment, the guards were busy trying to assist John, who had not successfully made it to his jail cell and was against one wall, fighting for breath. In the one moment that Paul looked to see that everything was all right with Percy and Monica, Harry tapped him on the shoulder. He looked to his co-worker.
"John's breath is slowing," Harry whispered. "He's not going to make it through the night. That last one really did it..." No sooner had he said this, when John took several short gasps, then went still. The guard's eyes were frozen in shock and sadness.
"No. Oh, no..." Paul placed his fingers on Coffey's neck, and the realization landed him with something that felt like a punch. "He's..."
Brutal, Harry and Dean crowded around as Paul tried to finish his sentence. Monica had looked over to see what was happening, and saw for herself. Her hand over her mouth and her eyes filling with fresh tears, she saw, and she knew.
John was dead.
A/N: Thaaat's all for now, Toge! Tell me how you liked it! There's more to come. I dunno if you liked the fact that there wasn't an execution - I thought John's death was better this way, dun ask me why. Please gimme feedback! Merry Christmas!
"John..." Paul started, faintly. He was lost for words from then on, and just waited and watched as the big prisoner made his way to perform his miracle task once more.
Monica's eyes were wide as she stared up at John Coffey, who approached her with such silence and carefulness for one as large as he that she thought the man was almost gliding across the floor.
"What are you going to do?" she asked the man who stood above her at such a towering height.
"Save his life," John replied simply. "That's what I can do."
No questions asked, Monica let the inmate stoop beside her and trail his eyes to where her right hand was pressed to slow the bleeding of Percy's wound. She took her hand away cautiously, as John's replaced it.
Paul, Dean, Harry, Brutus and Monica all watched, their eyes transfixed on what was forming about them.
The greatest look of concentration came over John's face as he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, muttering words only Monica could hear from her close distance.
"I can feel it, it's right there, I've almost got it," John sighed as if he were a mechanic replacing parts to a car. "I can feel it just there." His hand gripped the wounded area tighter and Monica feared for a moment that the man was going to kill Percy instead of heal him, and then the lights began to flicker...
"What's happening?" Monica mouthed, but no words came as John never loosened his death-grip, and Percy started to tense, and the lights were flickering madly, and everyone looked glassy-eyed and suddenly...
Something stopped, and something started; then John pulled his hand away. Sweat rolled down his forehead in beads as he staggered back to make room and gasp in exhaustion. While the guards accompanied him, Percy stirred in Monica's lap.
Her jaw dropped. Under the blood, there was nothing. Not even a bullet.
"He saved him, you saved him, he saved you," Monica sobbed in a mixture between talking to herself, to John and to Percy. "Oh my God, this can't BE..."
Percy blinked and stared up at Monica, confused as to where he was.
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE ALIVE!" Monica shrieked, and in a second, she was smothering him.
"What - are - you - doing!?" Percy was able to utter through kisses. "You're crazy!"
"PERCY, you're alive, you're alive, you're alive!" Monica cried, throwing her arms around his neck. He started to gag. "I never thought you'd live after that, I never thought the medics would come in time, I thought you weren't going to survive, I never thought I'd talk to you again or hear your voice or anything, oh Percy!"
"Oh, Monica! Get off!" Percy struggled out from under Monica, which was a very hard job, indeed. "What's come over you?" he panted.
"You'd been shot!" Monica breathed wearily.
"Shot!?" Percy looked around in confusion for a second, then looked down at himself, covered in blood. "Ahhh! Some crazy sonofabitch's shot me!" He began to panic.
"No, no, no!" Monica said hurriedly. "You're all right!"
"I've been shot, how can I be all right?" Percy asked faintly while staring down at himself and really looking about to faint.
She opened her mouth to answer the truth, thought twice about it, then took a great sigh. "A mere flesh wound," she said. "It's not as bad as it looks, obviously. You were knocked unconscious, and we fished the bullet out."
"Well, thank God," Percy grumbled. "Who did it?"
"Um..." Monica seemed to be deciding an answer. Then she pointed to a gory carcass in the corner of one of the jail cells.
"Whoa..." Percy seemed to be remembering what had happened, just very slowly. "Who did THAT?"
"Me," Monica mouthed, but the guilty look on her face could have told him just as easily.
"Monica? You?..." Percy put a hand to his forehead as if to check his temperature for a dilusional warmth, but all he came back with was a hand drenched in cold sweat.
"Don't make this any harder," she grumbled. Then her eyes began to shimmer as the corners brimmed with tears. "And I thought - I thought - Percy! Don't you care that - you would have - you could have -"
"It was just a flesh wound," Percy replied calmly as Monica leapt into his arms gently, now acting as if he were the most fragile thing on the planet.
"I love you," Monica said tearfully, comfortingly against Percy's healthy rising and falling chest. "Never, ever, ever go."
"Likewise," Percy sighed into a bunch of Monica's hair which he believed to be covering her ear, then stared up at the ceiling while she cried her eyes out as women often do during what she thought to be happy situations such as these; something he would never understand. But if it was what Monica wanted, then fine by him.
It didn't take long for him to get the idea of her comfort before he instinctively held her while she continued to cling to him.
While the two of them shared their moment, the guards were busy trying to assist John, who had not successfully made it to his jail cell and was against one wall, fighting for breath. In the one moment that Paul looked to see that everything was all right with Percy and Monica, Harry tapped him on the shoulder. He looked to his co-worker.
"John's breath is slowing," Harry whispered. "He's not going to make it through the night. That last one really did it..." No sooner had he said this, when John took several short gasps, then went still. The guard's eyes were frozen in shock and sadness.
"No. Oh, no..." Paul placed his fingers on Coffey's neck, and the realization landed him with something that felt like a punch. "He's..."
Brutal, Harry and Dean crowded around as Paul tried to finish his sentence. Monica had looked over to see what was happening, and saw for herself. Her hand over her mouth and her eyes filling with fresh tears, she saw, and she knew.
John was dead.
A/N: Thaaat's all for now, Toge! Tell me how you liked it! There's more to come. I dunno if you liked the fact that there wasn't an execution - I thought John's death was better this way, dun ask me why. Please gimme feedback! Merry Christmas!