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Numb3rs Drabble/Ficlet: "Shot"
Okay, so here's the Numb3rs drabble/ficlet I mentioned on Sunday. It has not been read by anybody but me, so anything in it is all my fault. :-) (I figure I can't make too many mistakes in something this short, right?)
Title: Shot
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters/Pairings: Don, Charlie, implied Don/Charlie
Rating: PG-13 for a bit of violence, swearing, and because of the pairing.
Word Count: 237
Spoilers: None
A blast, gunfire from behind him, a little to his right, and when he turned he couldn't see anything but Oh God now he could feel it, pain shooting through his side, back, radiating out from blood all over the place a jagged rip in his flesh. He fell to his knees, weak but strangely clearheaded through it all. The pain was intense; he should be passing out. Where was the bastard that got him? Why wasn't anybody coming to help? Didn't anybody see him? He raised his head, looked around, but there was still nobody, nothing, just him in the middle of an empty street, bleeding out onto the asphalt. Dying, alone.
He looked down again, at the pool of blood below him, sticky covering his fingers, and how had he missed seeing Charlie before? Charlie was right there, lying on the ground in front of him, dead eyes staring at him accusingly. Charlie, God.
Sounds, finally, where it had gone quiet before, but he couldn't tell where they were coming from, or maybe they were everywhere, echoing off of the houses lining the street. Shrieks, almost inhuman, and words he couldn't make out but somehow caught the meaning of. What the fuck's the matter with you? Look at what you did.
Don woke up with a gasp, looked around. Heart pounding, he reached out and pressed two fingers to shadowed skin. Charlie was still alive.
Title: Shot
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters/Pairings: Don, Charlie, implied Don/Charlie
Rating: PG-13 for a bit of violence, swearing, and because of the pairing.
Word Count: 237
Spoilers: None
A blast, gunfire from behind him, a little to his right, and when he turned he couldn't see anything but Oh God now he could feel it, pain shooting through his side, back, radiating out from blood all over the place a jagged rip in his flesh. He fell to his knees, weak but strangely clearheaded through it all. The pain was intense; he should be passing out. Where was the bastard that got him? Why wasn't anybody coming to help? Didn't anybody see him? He raised his head, looked around, but there was still nobody, nothing, just him in the middle of an empty street, bleeding out onto the asphalt. Dying, alone.
He looked down again, at the pool of blood below him, sticky covering his fingers, and how had he missed seeing Charlie before? Charlie was right there, lying on the ground in front of him, dead eyes staring at him accusingly. Charlie, God.
Sounds, finally, where it had gone quiet before, but he couldn't tell where they were coming from, or maybe they were everywhere, echoing off of the houses lining the street. Shrieks, almost inhuman, and words he couldn't make out but somehow caught the meaning of. What the fuck's the matter with you? Look at what you did.
Don woke up with a gasp, looked around. Heart pounding, he reached out and pressed two fingers to shadowed skin. Charlie was still alive.