Set at no particular point- just somewhere after s2. And an apology in advance.
He shifted slightly in the darkness, bringing his hands close to his face. In the dark, the liquid which covered them could have been anything, and he would have given anything to change what it was. Blood. It was warm on his fingers and slightly sticky. His whole body was seeping with it. It was surprising how much blood could escape from such small holes.
He moved his hands back down, reapplying pressure to the bullet wounds. Not that it made any difference, there were too many of them. But it gave him a focus, and somewhere within himself he pretended that if he did this, maybe they would be found in time, maybe she wouldn't die.
Why they had chosen to shoot her he wasn't sure. All he knew was that as he clasped her body against his, her blood pouring from the bullet holes she was literally riddled with, he wasn't going to let her die. He pretended that CTU would come for them, find them, and she would be fine. He knew they wouldn't, even if they realised they were missing, nobody knew where they were. He felt so stupid, it had been his idea to come here in the first place, a birthday present to her.
He was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden change in her breathing, her short, sharp gasps for air becoming wracked with pain. He found her fingers grasping at him, and knew immediately what she wanted. As carefully as he could, he lifted her up so that her body was resting against his, reassuring her that he was there, that she wasn't alone. As he traced his fingers across her face, he smeared blood across as well, her tears mixing with it before they dropped to the floor.
He wrapped his arms about her as tightly as he could, knowing that it would cause her a great deal of pain, but also knowing that feeling would be fleeing her body, and wanting her to be aware of him. He wondered how it was that she was still conscious, she couldn't have much longer left and yet her dark eyes were fixed upon his and her fingers were still entwined with his and exerting a gentle pressure upon his hand as if to remind him that she was still there.
Horrified at himself for thinking that, he whispered softly at her, "Don't you dare die." His words were eaten up my the darkness, but she heard them . She offered him a faint smile that was invisible in the dark, but that was all she could offer. Even this effort sent spasms of pain through her until they disappeared into her numb legs. Besides, he knew that she was smiling, the memory of the way her face would light up causing him to smile as well.
She couldn't die, she loved him, they'd got married, they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, how could they do that if she was dead? They hadn't been married long, a matter of months, and if he was honest, the time faded into a blur. She was his, and she was going to be his forever. But forever had just been months, and here they were, her lying against him, barely breathing anymore, blood pouring from her but still clinging to consciousness.
Somehow, his fingers were making there way up and down her back, his words offering her reassurance, telling her that he loved her and that she was going to be fine. She needed him, and he was going to make sure that she had everything that she wanted. She'd given him so much, it was all he could do to try and give her something back.
Life had actually seemed worth living with her in it. Suddenly he found himself looking forward to work just so he could catch her eyes twinkling at him when she thought no one was watching, so that he could steal a kiss from her when they were supposed to be working. And he looked forward to going home even more, here she was totally his, no pretending.
So, holding her in his arms, he tried to offer her that same weightless feeling that he got when he awoke to find her lying next to him, the unbelievable surge of heat that ran through him every time he looked at her. She was going to die here, he knew it as well as she did, and it was so close now.
As he started to kiss her, he was horrified by the amount of blood in her mouth, but continued, if she was going to die, he wanted her to know how much he loved her.
He couldn't say how long he had been sat there, it could have been seconds, but equally it could have been an eternity. Her body was still clasped in her hands, his warmth flooding her so that he could still pretend that she was alive. He had enough memories of her breath playing across his face that it didn't take much to pretend that she was just asleep.
His eyes had become so acclimatised to the dark that when the light hit him, he was almost blinded.
"Tony..." Jack was greeted by silence, and would have missed the silhouette in the faint light if he hadn't moved to pull her closer to him, protecting her from the reality that was about to come.
Holding his wife's body tightly to his, Tony was reminded of the day when he had had to pry Jack's dead wife from his hands. He hadn't understood then, she was dead, why wouldn't he let her go. But now, with Michelle in his arms, he understood perfectly well, if he let her go, she would be dead, and then it would be over.
Jack moved closer, and was horrified by what he saw. Dry blood trailed from Tony's mouth and was smeared all over her face. Her body was riddled with holes and she was so pale.
"Tony. What..." He couldn't finish. Tony, still refusing to meet Jack's eyes, pulled Michelle's head against his, burying his face in her shoulder.
How was he supposed to answer that question, if he did, then he would have to accept that she was dead, and he could no more do that than let her go.
Eventually, he found himself curled up in an ambulance, unsure of how he had got there. It had taken 3 people to pry her from his fingers, and his mind would be forever haunted by the image of her dead body being covered up as she was taken away.
Although he was here, in the light, alive, in his mind he was still there, cowering in the darkness with her body pressed against his.
She was gone? What was he supposed to do now? He turned to the wall, burying his face in it, finally letting out the tears that had been locked up, the only thing he could do.