(no subject)
Title: Hallucination
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters/Pairing: Horatio Caine
Words: 245
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Hallucination
The first stab wound had burned as the blade pierced his body. The subsequent stab wounds left an icy hot sensation across his arm and shoulder. After that, Horatio struggled to stay awake. He could feel his blood pooling underneath him but was too weak to move. He had to stay awake, because if he didn't, he couldn't be sure he would ever wake up again. He was dying and there was nothing he could do but wait. So tired. Eyelids fluttering heavily. Horatio closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
He opened them again when he felt hands applying pressure to his shoulder. The pain hit him in waves and he grunted. He couldn't focus; he could see strands of curly red hair and barely make out a face.
His mother.
He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and felt like it was stuffed with cotton. All he could taste was salt and the coppery remenants of blood. She was saying something to him but Horatio couldn't make out the words. Her voice sounded distant. Everything was blurry. He closed his eyes again because keeping them open was too tiring.
Sometime later in the middle of the night, he awoke. An IV was coming out of his arm, gauze was everywhere, encasing his abdomen. Awareness was hazy, but a thought occured to him.
An angel had reached out to him.
It wasn't his time yet.
There was still too much he had to do.
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters/Pairing: Horatio Caine
Words: 245
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Hallucination
The first stab wound had burned as the blade pierced his body. The subsequent stab wounds left an icy hot sensation across his arm and shoulder. After that, Horatio struggled to stay awake. He could feel his blood pooling underneath him but was too weak to move. He had to stay awake, because if he didn't, he couldn't be sure he would ever wake up again. He was dying and there was nothing he could do but wait. So tired. Eyelids fluttering heavily. Horatio closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
He opened them again when he felt hands applying pressure to his shoulder. The pain hit him in waves and he grunted. He couldn't focus; he could see strands of curly red hair and barely make out a face.
His mother.
He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and felt like it was stuffed with cotton. All he could taste was salt and the coppery remenants of blood. She was saying something to him but Horatio couldn't make out the words. Her voice sounded distant. Everything was blurry. He closed his eyes again because keeping them open was too tiring.
Sometime later in the middle of the night, he awoke. An IV was coming out of his arm, gauze was everywhere, encasing his abdomen. Awareness was hazy, but a thought occured to him.
An angel had reached out to him.
It wasn't his time yet.
There was still too much he had to do.