Post by kopylova4 on May 15, 2007 14:04:20 GMT -5
This fic was written about two months ago so it's definitely not based on recent events in the Cold Case world.
Based on 2x23 The Woods.
Stillman stood frozen in the shadows of the staircase. The moon-light shone through the crack of the ajar door. His fingers coiled around his shotgun even tighter as he stood still listening to what was happening, mere centimetres from him.
Thoughts of Lilly Rush flooded through his head. The blonde porcelain skinned girl was the only woman in the cold case department as if it had been yesterday. She was a blonde girl in a male dominated police sector in Philadelphia. He remembered when Lilly Rush first walked into his department; he took it upon himself to watch out for her well-being. He watched over her like a father would his daughter and was certain that no man would ever be good enough for her.
He had tried to protect her by forcing her to remain at the office as they followed up a lead but evidently it was just an invitation for her to get trapped in this attic with a gun trained on her head. The psychotic threat appeared in his mind’s eye and the words echoed in his ears maniacally.
“If you call again, if I see a cop within a hundred yards of this house, I put a bullet in her head.”
Uncontrollable anger coursed through his blood as the words played over and over in his head, taunting him. If George harmed a single hair on Lilly’s head, John knew that George would not be able to harm another.
His thoughts were disrupted by Lilly’s anxious voice as it quivered the words, “I’m nothing like you.”
He didn’t know if George was still pointing his gun at Lilly or if he was standing anywhere close to him.
Their voices escalated as his pulse banged in his ears.
“You sleep with the dead. You’re already half way there. And when you kill me, even those photos you cling to will fade away, like everyone fades away for you . . .and you will be alone . . . like me.”
“You’re wrong! I’ll never be like you.”
“Wanna bet!” George seethed.
Several loud shots pierced the dark silence.
He couldn’t tell whose weapon the shots barked from.
He knew that he couldn’t take a chance guessing.
With the shotgun in his firm grip, he barged through the cobweb ridden door and into the moonlit attic.
He stared down the sight of the weapon and looked at where he assumed George was standing.
Cool darkness greeted him. Then he swivelled himself around cautiously to search the rest of the room. As he turned, in the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lifeless body of George Marks lying amongst remnants of paper. There were two bullet holes in his chest and his eyes were fixed open staring at the roof.
He was dead. Lilly managed to subdue him.
“Boss?” he heard someone whimper behind him.
Stillman whirled his head around expecting Lilly to be emerging from the shadows that easily absorbed her.
She wasn’t standing over him.
He strained to see anything in the dark foreboding attic.
Then, he noticed her curled up on the dust carpeted floor. Immediately, John crossed the short distance between himself and Lilly before crouching down by her.
“Lilly?” he asked concerned cupping her tear-stained face gently.
“Boss,” she breathed.
“Don’t worry, he’d dead. You got him.”
Lilly merely nodded.
Gently, Stillman inched her over onto her back. She cringed in pain as he did so. Carefully, he checked her over to make sure that she was alright. But his eyes took in the sight on her hand in the middle of her abdomen. Crimson blood seeped through her fingers and moved down her hand as her blood stained her innocently white blouse.
Gently, Stillman lifted her hand away and exposed the gun shot wound before placing his own hand over it.
“How bad is it?” Lilly asked cringing.
Stillman couldn’t speak.
Words couldn’t form in his mouth.
Lilly was lying in front of him with the colour of her skin draining by the second, her blood was pouring out of her and a bullet broke her porcelain skin.
Lilly’s eyes were still looking up at him waiting for an answer. John knew that she wanted the truth but he simply couldn’t bring himself to say it. He wanted to protect her. He fumbled around himself and found a discarded rag. He flung it out to dispel any excess dust. Taking a deep breath, he removed his hand over her abdomen and placed the material over it where he exerted some pressure.
She instantly winced in pain.
“Lil . . . you’re gonna be okay.”
He looked into her eyes.
Her blue eyes which had taken on a vacant look.
Lilly simply nodded blankly.
“Lilly?”
Stillman noticed that she was struggling to breathe. She began to slowly gasp for air.
“Lilly! Look at me,” he ordered.
She didn’t comply.
He took the talkie that was attached to his bullet-proof shirt, “We need paramedic team up here ASAP. We have one fatality and an officer down. I repeat, officer down!”
He waited for a response.
“EMTs will be here in five minutes and at your position in 8 max,” Scotty replied quickly, “Is it Lil? Is she alright?”
“Just get the damned medics here now!”
“Yes sir!”
Lilly began to struggle against the floor that was beneath her. She arched her back as coughs began to lurch from her throat. John continued to hold the material harshly over her wound as she struggled. He spoke softly to her in an attempt to calm her down.
Suddenly, she swung her head violently to the side as one cough overwhelmed her.
“Lilly?”
The moonlight caught the scarlet red blood that began to snake its way down her chin as she turned her head back to centre.
Stillman’s heart stopped.
Her eyes could hardly remain open. All John could see were the whites of her eyes and her breathing became increasingly shallow.
“I . . .” her words failed to come.
“Lilly?” he asked concerned, “Lilly!”
She didn’t answer.
With his free hand he cupped her face.
“Lilly, look at me, open your eyes and look at me!”
Her eyes fluttered frantically as she attempted to open her eyes.
“Scotty, where are those damned medics!” he asked again as he took his hand from her face and grabbed harshly at his talkie.
“ETA, three minutes.”
“Damnit, Lilly doesn’t have three minutes,” Stillman bellowed.
He looked at Lilly.
He took a quick look at her wound.
He wasn’t going to lose her.
“Scotty, tell them to be standing by. I’m bringing Lilly down to you. Tell them to have a gurney ready.”
“Sir, is that wise? Moving her without the paramedics?”
“By the time they get up the stairs and back down again, she’ll be worse off than if I move her now!”
Silence.
“I’ll have them standing by.”
Stillman reached over and placed Lilly’s small hand over the material that was attempting to stem the blood flow.
“Lil, I need you to put pressure here, can you do that?”
An incomprehensible moan came as a response.
Cautiously but quickly, he managed to get his arm wrapped around her back, then he hooked his other arm under her knees.
“One – two – three,” he whispered as he lifted her from the floor and cradled her in his arms.
The top of her head rested in the crook of his neck. Her arm rested on her abdomen as the other hung faintly over his. She moaned fiercely in pain as he moved her. He apologised gently to her as he manoeuvred down the narrow staircase while his heart tore at every guttural grunt, moan and murmur that escaped her mouth. But, it reassured him that she was alive.
He was afraid.
Stillman didn’t absorb the halls that he passed through or the steps that he walked down. It all passed him by in a blur though he became instantly aware of the harsh fresh cool air outside the suffocating house. Frantically and drunk with fear he headed towards the police boundary in search of the paramedics.
“Scotty!”
“Boss, over here!”
Stillman quickened his pace as Lilly became increasingly limp in his arms. The paramedics rushed to meet him with a gurney wielded to their hands.
It was a frenzy.
Medics surrounded them and he set Lilly down on the gurney.
His gentle hand cradled her head and glided it down limply.
It felt like a scene from a movie. His eyesight zoomed out from the scene. Soft music accompanied the traumatic moment to add poignancy for the audience. He could feel beads of sweat trickle down his face as his energy drained from the last several minutes. Except this wasn’t a movie and Lilly was truly on a gurney being wheeled away frantically past congregated police officers to an awaiting ambulance. Stillman’s legs automatically followed them and he climbed into the ambulance, leaving Scotty at the scene dumbfounded.
At the same time, Stillman watched as they helped Lilly.
He heard them rhyme off numbers and words that he had only picked up in medical dramas that he had caught every now and then. They meant nothing to him and he couldn’t translate them into terms that he would now but he gleamed that everything was not well.
Stillman repeated in his head a plea for Lilly to survive. He then regretted having clambered into the ambulance as he watched how their hands became stained with Lilly’s blood, how they fought to save her life and how the ear-piercing shrieks of the siren assaulted his ears. He listened as her heartbeat quickened. He couldn’t bear to see how his Lilly, his innocent girl, was suffering because he hadn’t acted fast enough.
Stillman was vaguely aware of the paramedics asking him questions which he automatically answered.
In a medley of movement, she was rushed into the hospital as a flurry of doctors engulfed Lilly.
“Thirty-seven year old female, GSW to the abdomen, internal bleeding . . .”
Stillman’s ears failed to assimilate the rest of the medical jargon that spilled from the paramedic’s mouth as he fought to keep up with their pace.
“What’s her name?” one doctor asked.
“Lilly Rush.”
“Lilly? Lilly sweetheart can you hear me?” he asked as they continued to wheel her towards a trauma bay.
That was as far as John was allowed.
The door to the trauma bay sung shut as they completely surrounded her and he could hardly see her.
All he saw on the gurney was a little girl. She looked so small through the panels in the door as the medical team rallied around her. She was a little girl who was not about to be taken from him by a psychotic serial killer.
Not this way.
Not now.
Not today.
TBC.
Based on 2x23 The Woods.
Stillman stood frozen in the shadows of the staircase. The moon-light shone through the crack of the ajar door. His fingers coiled around his shotgun even tighter as he stood still listening to what was happening, mere centimetres from him.
Thoughts of Lilly Rush flooded through his head. The blonde porcelain skinned girl was the only woman in the cold case department as if it had been yesterday. She was a blonde girl in a male dominated police sector in Philadelphia. He remembered when Lilly Rush first walked into his department; he took it upon himself to watch out for her well-being. He watched over her like a father would his daughter and was certain that no man would ever be good enough for her.
He had tried to protect her by forcing her to remain at the office as they followed up a lead but evidently it was just an invitation for her to get trapped in this attic with a gun trained on her head. The psychotic threat appeared in his mind’s eye and the words echoed in his ears maniacally.
“If you call again, if I see a cop within a hundred yards of this house, I put a bullet in her head.”
Uncontrollable anger coursed through his blood as the words played over and over in his head, taunting him. If George harmed a single hair on Lilly’s head, John knew that George would not be able to harm another.
His thoughts were disrupted by Lilly’s anxious voice as it quivered the words, “I’m nothing like you.”
He didn’t know if George was still pointing his gun at Lilly or if he was standing anywhere close to him.
Their voices escalated as his pulse banged in his ears.
“You sleep with the dead. You’re already half way there. And when you kill me, even those photos you cling to will fade away, like everyone fades away for you . . .and you will be alone . . . like me.”
“You’re wrong! I’ll never be like you.”
“Wanna bet!” George seethed.
Several loud shots pierced the dark silence.
He couldn’t tell whose weapon the shots barked from.
He knew that he couldn’t take a chance guessing.
With the shotgun in his firm grip, he barged through the cobweb ridden door and into the moonlit attic.
He stared down the sight of the weapon and looked at where he assumed George was standing.
Cool darkness greeted him. Then he swivelled himself around cautiously to search the rest of the room. As he turned, in the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lifeless body of George Marks lying amongst remnants of paper. There were two bullet holes in his chest and his eyes were fixed open staring at the roof.
He was dead. Lilly managed to subdue him.
“Boss?” he heard someone whimper behind him.
Stillman whirled his head around expecting Lilly to be emerging from the shadows that easily absorbed her.
She wasn’t standing over him.
He strained to see anything in the dark foreboding attic.
Then, he noticed her curled up on the dust carpeted floor. Immediately, John crossed the short distance between himself and Lilly before crouching down by her.
“Lilly?” he asked concerned cupping her tear-stained face gently.
“Boss,” she breathed.
“Don’t worry, he’d dead. You got him.”
Lilly merely nodded.
Gently, Stillman inched her over onto her back. She cringed in pain as he did so. Carefully, he checked her over to make sure that she was alright. But his eyes took in the sight on her hand in the middle of her abdomen. Crimson blood seeped through her fingers and moved down her hand as her blood stained her innocently white blouse.
Gently, Stillman lifted her hand away and exposed the gun shot wound before placing his own hand over it.
“How bad is it?” Lilly asked cringing.
Stillman couldn’t speak.
Words couldn’t form in his mouth.
Lilly was lying in front of him with the colour of her skin draining by the second, her blood was pouring out of her and a bullet broke her porcelain skin.
Lilly’s eyes were still looking up at him waiting for an answer. John knew that she wanted the truth but he simply couldn’t bring himself to say it. He wanted to protect her. He fumbled around himself and found a discarded rag. He flung it out to dispel any excess dust. Taking a deep breath, he removed his hand over her abdomen and placed the material over it where he exerted some pressure.
She instantly winced in pain.
“Lil . . . you’re gonna be okay.”
He looked into her eyes.
Her blue eyes which had taken on a vacant look.
Lilly simply nodded blankly.
“Lilly?”
Stillman noticed that she was struggling to breathe. She began to slowly gasp for air.
“Lilly! Look at me,” he ordered.
She didn’t comply.
He took the talkie that was attached to his bullet-proof shirt, “We need paramedic team up here ASAP. We have one fatality and an officer down. I repeat, officer down!”
He waited for a response.
“EMTs will be here in five minutes and at your position in 8 max,” Scotty replied quickly, “Is it Lil? Is she alright?”
“Just get the damned medics here now!”
“Yes sir!”
Lilly began to struggle against the floor that was beneath her. She arched her back as coughs began to lurch from her throat. John continued to hold the material harshly over her wound as she struggled. He spoke softly to her in an attempt to calm her down.
Suddenly, she swung her head violently to the side as one cough overwhelmed her.
“Lilly?”
The moonlight caught the scarlet red blood that began to snake its way down her chin as she turned her head back to centre.
Stillman’s heart stopped.
Her eyes could hardly remain open. All John could see were the whites of her eyes and her breathing became increasingly shallow.
“I . . .” her words failed to come.
“Lilly?” he asked concerned, “Lilly!”
She didn’t answer.
With his free hand he cupped her face.
“Lilly, look at me, open your eyes and look at me!”
Her eyes fluttered frantically as she attempted to open her eyes.
“Scotty, where are those damned medics!” he asked again as he took his hand from her face and grabbed harshly at his talkie.
“ETA, three minutes.”
“Damnit, Lilly doesn’t have three minutes,” Stillman bellowed.
He looked at Lilly.
He took a quick look at her wound.
He wasn’t going to lose her.
“Scotty, tell them to be standing by. I’m bringing Lilly down to you. Tell them to have a gurney ready.”
“Sir, is that wise? Moving her without the paramedics?”
“By the time they get up the stairs and back down again, she’ll be worse off than if I move her now!”
Silence.
“I’ll have them standing by.”
Stillman reached over and placed Lilly’s small hand over the material that was attempting to stem the blood flow.
“Lil, I need you to put pressure here, can you do that?”
An incomprehensible moan came as a response.
Cautiously but quickly, he managed to get his arm wrapped around her back, then he hooked his other arm under her knees.
“One – two – three,” he whispered as he lifted her from the floor and cradled her in his arms.
The top of her head rested in the crook of his neck. Her arm rested on her abdomen as the other hung faintly over his. She moaned fiercely in pain as he moved her. He apologised gently to her as he manoeuvred down the narrow staircase while his heart tore at every guttural grunt, moan and murmur that escaped her mouth. But, it reassured him that she was alive.
He was afraid.
Stillman didn’t absorb the halls that he passed through or the steps that he walked down. It all passed him by in a blur though he became instantly aware of the harsh fresh cool air outside the suffocating house. Frantically and drunk with fear he headed towards the police boundary in search of the paramedics.
“Scotty!”
“Boss, over here!”
Stillman quickened his pace as Lilly became increasingly limp in his arms. The paramedics rushed to meet him with a gurney wielded to their hands.
It was a frenzy.
Medics surrounded them and he set Lilly down on the gurney.
His gentle hand cradled her head and glided it down limply.
It felt like a scene from a movie. His eyesight zoomed out from the scene. Soft music accompanied the traumatic moment to add poignancy for the audience. He could feel beads of sweat trickle down his face as his energy drained from the last several minutes. Except this wasn’t a movie and Lilly was truly on a gurney being wheeled away frantically past congregated police officers to an awaiting ambulance. Stillman’s legs automatically followed them and he climbed into the ambulance, leaving Scotty at the scene dumbfounded.
At the same time, Stillman watched as they helped Lilly.
He heard them rhyme off numbers and words that he had only picked up in medical dramas that he had caught every now and then. They meant nothing to him and he couldn’t translate them into terms that he would now but he gleamed that everything was not well.
Stillman repeated in his head a plea for Lilly to survive. He then regretted having clambered into the ambulance as he watched how their hands became stained with Lilly’s blood, how they fought to save her life and how the ear-piercing shrieks of the siren assaulted his ears. He listened as her heartbeat quickened. He couldn’t bear to see how his Lilly, his innocent girl, was suffering because he hadn’t acted fast enough.
Stillman was vaguely aware of the paramedics asking him questions which he automatically answered.
In a medley of movement, she was rushed into the hospital as a flurry of doctors engulfed Lilly.
“Thirty-seven year old female, GSW to the abdomen, internal bleeding . . .”
Stillman’s ears failed to assimilate the rest of the medical jargon that spilled from the paramedic’s mouth as he fought to keep up with their pace.
“What’s her name?” one doctor asked.
“Lilly Rush.”
“Lilly? Lilly sweetheart can you hear me?” he asked as they continued to wheel her towards a trauma bay.
That was as far as John was allowed.
The door to the trauma bay sung shut as they completely surrounded her and he could hardly see her.
All he saw on the gurney was a little girl. She looked so small through the panels in the door as the medical team rallied around her. She was a little girl who was not about to be taken from him by a psychotic serial killer.
Not this way.
Not now.
Not today.
TBC.
glad you like it *hugs*
I feel like I've accomplished something through my writing if they feel like they are watching it because reading and watching are two separate things and so hard to blend together. And a comment beginning with 'wow' is always nice to get 
