Fic: Cabin Pressure: A Hero
Title: A Hero
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Martin. Douglas
Disclaimer: John Finnemore is more of a genius than I will ever be.
Word Count: 200 (double drabble!)
Warnings: Character Death!
Summary: Written for the Cabin Pressure meme here.
Martin gets mauled by a wild animal.
People were dying in the woods. Horrible deaths. Censored-on-the-news horrible. Martin armed himself with a handgun and bullets he had purchased two months prior for a different purpose. One last chance to make himself matter.
A snap of a twig to his left. A hissing snarl to his right. Martin’s feet froze in terror, yet he raised his hand, gun trembling in its grip.
A scream of terror. Two gunshots. A minute later, a third.
Two overgrown wolf hybrids. Illegal. Dead.
Martin was found 20 feet away from the two bodies. He’d shot himself when he could crawl no farther.
***
Douglas found out five days later, when Martin made the news, an old photograph of Martin smiling. Douglas dropped the glass he’d been carrying. It shattered into a hundred pieces.
Something else shattered that day, too. For the first time in his adult life, Douglas wept.
The body wasn’t available for viewing. It had been mangled too badly. How Martin had managed to move at all was a miracle. The despair he must have felt as he bled out, alone. Before he pulled the trigger for the third time...
Martin lived a sad existence, but died a hero. Saving lives.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Martin. Douglas
Disclaimer: John Finnemore is more of a genius than I will ever be.
Word Count: 200 (double drabble!)
Warnings: Character Death!
Summary: Written for the Cabin Pressure meme here.
Martin gets mauled by a wild animal.
People were dying in the woods. Horrible deaths. Censored-on-the-news horrible. Martin armed himself with a handgun and bullets he had purchased two months prior for a different purpose. One last chance to make himself matter.
A snap of a twig to his left. A hissing snarl to his right. Martin’s feet froze in terror, yet he raised his hand, gun trembling in its grip.
A scream of terror. Two gunshots. A minute later, a third.
Two overgrown wolf hybrids. Illegal. Dead.
Martin was found 20 feet away from the two bodies. He’d shot himself when he could crawl no farther.
***
Douglas found out five days later, when Martin made the news, an old photograph of Martin smiling. Douglas dropped the glass he’d been carrying. It shattered into a hundred pieces.
Something else shattered that day, too. For the first time in his adult life, Douglas wept.
The body wasn’t available for viewing. It had been mangled too badly. How Martin had managed to move at all was a miracle. The despair he must have felt as he bled out, alone. Before he pulled the trigger for the third time...
Martin lived a sad existence, but died a hero. Saving lives.