[Original: Drabble] "A Dozen Bullets" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: A Dozen Bullets
Prompt: writerverse challenge #36 quick fic amnesty (‘ICU’ & ‘yesterday’)
Word Count: 484
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Warnings: reference to non-graphic violence
Summary: Silver bullets aren’t the only thing that could kill a werewolf.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
A Dozen Bullets
You’ve probably heard that only a silver bullet can kill a werewolf. It is the only thing guaranteed to do the job, but enough of the regular kind can still be pretty deadly.
Like the twelve hollow point slugs the doctors just pulled out of my partner. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel his blood on my hands, the erratic beat of his heart, before the paramedics arrived.
If only I’d been faster! Vampires are supposed to be fast, aren’t we? Or turn into bats? A bat is much smaller a target than a stupid rookie cop who can’t look both ways before entering a potentially-dangerous situation.
If only I could go back and re-do yesterday. I’d listen to that lecture Howell gave me, for the dozenth time, about how reckless I was and how if I wasn’t careful, it was going to get me killed.
It was going to get him killed.
The other rookies, and some of the full officers, had warned me when I was assigned to Howell. And I’d been on the receiving end of his bark and his bite, but that was nothing compared to the care and compassion he was capable of. Or the selflessness- like taking a dozen bullets to protect his idiot partner.
The nurse came in to check on Howell, but she didn’t dare try to throw me out again. When she left, I scooted the hard plastic chair closer to the bed, then took my partner’s hand. We’re not really tactile people, neither of us, but I needed the physical reminder that he was still alive.
“I’m sorry,” I said. He always preferred when I was direct. “You were right, sir. I was reckless, and I didn’t clear the room properly before I went in, and it should have been me who got shot!”
I rested my forehead against his shoulder, just listening to the thump of his heart, and resolutely did not cry.
A moment later, I jerked upright again. He couldn’t have-
I felt the hand in mine move again, and looked up into pale blue eyes.
“Hezekia,” said Howell, a little hoarsely.
I’d always hated my given name, but at that moment, I’d never heard anything sweeter. “Hey,” I managed.
Howell squeezed my hand. “They’re called rookie mistakes for a reason, rookie.”
“Yes, but-”
“Zeke,” he interrupted, which shut me up real fast. “I’m okay. Sore, but okay. And next time, now that you’ve learned from this, nobody will get shot.”
I blinked at him. “You… you’re still going to be my partner?” I asked, with a squeak.
He smiled. “We have been through far too much for me to give up on you now,” Howell said. “Now, how about you sweet-talk the nurses into letting me out of here?”
I grinned, blinking back the tears that threatened again- happy ones, this time. “Not a chance, sir.”
THE END
Current Mood:
sick
Prompt: writerverse challenge #36 quick fic amnesty (‘ICU’ & ‘yesterday’)
Word Count: 484
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Warnings: reference to non-graphic violence
Summary: Silver bullets aren’t the only thing that could kill a werewolf.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
A Dozen Bullets
You’ve probably heard that only a silver bullet can kill a werewolf. It is the only thing guaranteed to do the job, but enough of the regular kind can still be pretty deadly.
Like the twelve hollow point slugs the doctors just pulled out of my partner. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel his blood on my hands, the erratic beat of his heart, before the paramedics arrived.
If only I’d been faster! Vampires are supposed to be fast, aren’t we? Or turn into bats? A bat is much smaller a target than a stupid rookie cop who can’t look both ways before entering a potentially-dangerous situation.
If only I could go back and re-do yesterday. I’d listen to that lecture Howell gave me, for the dozenth time, about how reckless I was and how if I wasn’t careful, it was going to get me killed.
It was going to get him killed.
The other rookies, and some of the full officers, had warned me when I was assigned to Howell. And I’d been on the receiving end of his bark and his bite, but that was nothing compared to the care and compassion he was capable of. Or the selflessness- like taking a dozen bullets to protect his idiot partner.
The nurse came in to check on Howell, but she didn’t dare try to throw me out again. When she left, I scooted the hard plastic chair closer to the bed, then took my partner’s hand. We’re not really tactile people, neither of us, but I needed the physical reminder that he was still alive.
“I’m sorry,” I said. He always preferred when I was direct. “You were right, sir. I was reckless, and I didn’t clear the room properly before I went in, and it should have been me who got shot!”
I rested my forehead against his shoulder, just listening to the thump of his heart, and resolutely did not cry.
A moment later, I jerked upright again. He couldn’t have-
I felt the hand in mine move again, and looked up into pale blue eyes.
“Hezekia,” said Howell, a little hoarsely.
I’d always hated my given name, but at that moment, I’d never heard anything sweeter. “Hey,” I managed.
Howell squeezed my hand. “They’re called rookie mistakes for a reason, rookie.”
“Yes, but-”
“Zeke,” he interrupted, which shut me up real fast. “I’m okay. Sore, but okay. And next time, now that you’ve learned from this, nobody will get shot.”
I blinked at him. “You… you’re still going to be my partner?” I asked, with a squeak.
He smiled. “We have been through far too much for me to give up on you now,” Howell said. “Now, how about you sweet-talk the nurses into letting me out of here?”
I grinned, blinking back the tears that threatened again- happy ones, this time. “Not a chance, sir.”
THE END
Current Mood:
sick