i've really disregarded the plot. eh. who cares.

I didn't want to die.

I never did.

I was never one of those people who thought about what it was like to die. I mean, sure, I'd had hard times, but I always wanted to live.

I might not have that option anymore.

Belko, a suspect in the Larsen case, had been brought in for questioning before. Now they'd brought him in because he shot Richmond. He was dangerous. Unhinged. They needed to move him to a secure holding cell. He couldn't be allowed to hurt anyone else.

The transfer wasn't secure, though.

He was surrounded by five officers. I had just been walking by, going back to the desk after a bathroom break. I didn't know who he was, at first. I hadn't seen his face when he grabbed me. When he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to keep me in place as he held a gun to my head. But then everyone was shouting his name, and he was screaming... something. I couldn't tell what.

I started crying, clawing at his arm, begging.

"Please stop. Please."

He didn't hear me. Or maybe he just didn't listen. All I felt was the barrel of the gun pressed harder into the flesh behind my ear.

And then he was there. Holder. He ran around the corner, gun out, stance ready. He'd never looked more like a detective. He usually had that edgy, nervous energy about him. Probably leftover from his narc days. Not now. He was solid. Strong. He was yelling at Belko, too, his eyes moving back and forth between the two of us.

"Belko, put the gun down."

"Please, please let me go."

"I just wanna go home!"

"Let her go, Belko."

They all blended together. I could only see Holder, his hazel eyes sure. Safe. I could only feel the arm tightening around me, the gun repeatedly hitting the side of my face as Belko used it to gesticulate within the confines of his handcuffs. I at least had some bruises there if I wasn't already bleeding.

Then it crescendoed. The screaming got louder. Holder moved closer, gun held high. The arm moved from my shoulders to my neck, tightening. I continued to claw at it, unable to see his other arm. Where it was going. What he was about to do.

And then it was over.

It was so loud that everything else became quiet. There was just a ringing as my body was dragged to the floor with his, his handcuffed arms still around me, a thick, red, sticky substance already pooling around us, on us, in my hair, on my clothes. I could feel it. Everywhere. It was everywhere.

Then someone was pulling me away from him. Belko. The body. They were pulling me out of his arms, up off the ground, into a new set of arms.

Holder.

His hands were on my face. He was looking at me. Saying something. What was he saying? I couldn't hear. I couldn't look at him. He was so close. I just wanted to close my eyes. To curl up somewhere.

But he persisted, and after a minute, I began to hear him.

"Angel? Angel, come on. Speak to me. Gabriella? I know you're in there, girl. Just say something. Anything."

"H-Holder?" I hiccuped, still crying.

He sighed, relieved, releasing my face to grab my shoulders instead, pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I tensed at first. Belko had held my shoulders. But this was Holder. I was safe.

"That's my girl." He pulled back again. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head. "Just... I'm just..."

"Hey, you're in shock, you don't have to talk." He took my chin, turned my face. "You got a couple of bruises, but you'll be fine."

"Thanks, Doctor Sensei," I said, somewhat sarcastically. Holder wouldn't know a bruise from a spot of dirt.

"Oh, a joke, huh? Are you sure you're okay? You might have a concussion, now that I think about it."

"Shut up, Holder."

I moved to turn, to look behind me at the body, but Holder stopped me. He held my shoulders in place, put his forehead against mine.

"Don't, Angel."

"Okay."

fin.