A/N Hi and thanks for taking the time to read my story. This is my first - just a short one - and the scenario came to me in a dream. A bit dark and it broke my heart a bit to write it. (I sincerely hope it doesn't go down this way in the series!) Any comments/reviews are welcome :)
He fell to his knees as the blood blossomed in the shape of a rose on his chest, gun falling from his slackened hand. He looked up to gaze into her sweet face, into those brown orbs, thankful at least, that his last image would be of her. She was kneeling over him, one hand still clasping her weapon, the other pressing into his wound. Her long waves swept forward into his face, the soft tendrils brushing his cheek . He managed the strength to reach up to grasp one silky curl, to bring it to his nose and breathed deeply the scent of her. Droplets fell on his face and he realized she was crying, her tears mingling with his own.
"It's ok Skye… It's ok … You, I …"
He wanted to tell her he was sorry for everything; for betraying her, for forcing her hand, and that he understood why she did it. He opened his mouth to tell her that she was his only light in his darkness, that he loved her still and always will. But all his strength was gone and the words never came. Her lips came down to graze lightly on his and a wave of contentment washed over him. All his conflicts, all his rage, all his remorse were draining from him, like the blood that was flowing from his chest. Finally free, he smiled, closed his eyes and succumbed to the sweet call of death.