Fic: Crimson tide.
Author: Me
Title: Crimson tide
Rating: Red Cortina
Words: 1382
Pairings: Chris/Ray
Spoilers: None
Warning: Character Death.
Summary: I am a leaf on the wind, watch me soar.
A/N: It's dark, it's not happy and it's just something I've been thinking on for a while.
Ray's been screaming for so long his voice has all but disappeared and his throat feels like raw meat but he's not gonna give up, not when they've got Chris. Not when he can see the knife in Lenny's hand and not when Chris's own voice is hoarse from begging for mercy.
It'd started as a two against two fire fight in the back of an abandoned club, it'd turned into a blood bath. Two'd turned to five and they'd ended up hiding behind upturned tables. They'd been holding their own, Ray'd radioed for back up but help never came, he and Chris'd run out of bullets and that, as they say, was that.
Now, he's being held down by four lanky fuckers half his size, no matter how weedy they might be individually, together they're more than a match and Ray's powerless to stop what's about to happen.
He's still struggling beneath them but Chris's gone completely quiet. The light in his eyes has faded and Ray can't remember ever seeing him look so vacant.
Ray's a strong bloke on a normal day, when provoked he's a complete beast but he still can't wrench himself free and Lenny's moving slowly closer, step by step. He and Chris are separated by five feet of space and guy with a bloody great blade. Five sodding feet and Ray can't do a god damn thing.
Lenny reaches out, bunches his fist in Chris's hair and yanks his head back, exposing his pale throat.
"Don't you dare, don't you fuckin' dare. Chris you div, fight, fight!"
Despite the four men pinning him down, Ray still manages to pull himself closer to Chris. There can't be more than three feet between them now, yet Ray still can't reach out and protect the most precious thing in his life.
Lenny points the knife at Ray, lets the tip waver towards his face and sneers, "Stay put or I'll gut 'im like a fish"
Ray growls, bares his teeth but says nothing.
"Good dog"
Chris's shut down. There's nothing, no spark, his eyes are completely dead. It's as if he's staring straight through Ray, to a place where he isn't about to die.
Lenny smirks, turns to Chris, pulls his head back further and slides the edge of the blade across his skin. As a tiny crimson line appears, Ray's stomach twists in on it's self and he howls.
Cold metal against hot flesh wakes Chris enough for him to focus on Ray.
Ray knows the very second he's back and wishes, with all his heart, that he'd stayed gone.
Lenny's not pushing hard enough to go through more than a few layers of skin but the blood slowly welling up pushes Ray over the edge into blind rage.
He renews his struggles, bucking and bracing, clawing at cloth and gnashing his teeth, pushing with everything he's got. He manages to throw one of the goons off but it's still not good enough and he's left panting and watching, helpless, as Chris mouths 'I'm sorry' and Lenny draws the blade quickly and cleanly across his throat.
There's a moment, just one, where Ray thinks he's imagined it, thinks the knife's not real, then Lenny lets go of Chris's hair, his head flops back at an unnatural angle and the spell's broken.
"Chris!"
As the first warm spray arcs through the air and trickles down Ray's face, he feels the men holding him upright, let go. All he can see is redredred and all he can hear is the sound of laughter and retreating footsteps.
He tastes a metallic tang and gags.
Chris's laying at an odd angle, eyes glassy, face paler than he's ever seen and Ray's first instinct is to straighten him out, make him more comfortable. Instead, he crawls forward, lifts Chris's head into his lap and starts combing his fingers through blood soaked strands.
"Come on Chris, stop bein' a prat, wake up. You're not dead, no, not dead, just sleepin'. Come on, stop messin about, it ain't funny, not funny no more"
He begins to rock from side to side, still sliding his hands against Chris's hair, "Ple..please, Chris, please!"
The blood still flowing from Chris's throat is seeping into Ray's trousers, saturating the material, causing them to stick against his skin and he feels the urge to rip them off but doesn't want to let go of the man in his arms.
Ray's radio crackles and hisses and the Guv's voice bounces off the walls, echoing across empty space, "Ray, Ray, we're almost there, hang on"
There's a dribble of crimson liquid snaking its way out of Chris's mouth and Ray reaches out to wipe it away. He just manages to spread it further across Chris's skin, staining the flesh pink. Ray panics and starts scrubbing furiously at Chris's face.
A car engine cuts across Ray's muffled thoughts, bringing him fully awake.
As Gene and Sam come skidding into the room, Ray holds his hands up in front of his face and screams.
"Oh Christ"
"Fucking cunt!"
Gene's the first person across the room and dropping to his knees, landing heavily, covering his coat and trousers in Chris's blood.
He reaches out, tries to check for a pulse but Ray hunches forward, completely covers Chris's body and shakes his head violently, "Don't touch, don't touch! He's sleepin', just sleepin' is all, you'll...you'll, don't wake him, no, not right, nononoNO!"
Gene watches Ray bunch his fists in Chris's shirt and feels his stomach turn over. There's blood everywhere, on the floor, on Ray's clothes and all over his face. He watches Ray lick his lips and has to fight the urge to throw up.
Sam sits down next to Ray, puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes him gently, "Ray, come on Ray, let him go yeah? We've got to get him to a hospital, we've got to..."
"NO! Doesn't need a 'ospital, just needs a rest an' he'll be fine, he'll be fuckin' fine, he has to be fine"
The ache in Sam's throat forces him to look away, to look away from Chris's unseeing eyes and Ray's palpable pain.
Gene sweeps his hand over Chris's face, closes his eyes and tries to lift him from Ray's lap.
Ray growls and claws at Gene's hands, "No, not takin' him away, you're not fuckin' takin' him away, he's...he's, he's mine, pl..please don't take him away, please"
Gene's heart's physically aching, he's got no clue, no fucking clue what Ray must be feeling but he can't let his own grief stop him from doing his job. He's got to get Ray up and away from Chris. He can see Sam's on the verge of tears and he feels his own eyes burning with them.
He makes a decision, looks to Sam and nods. Sam's eyes go wide but he nods in return and readies himself for what Gene's about to do.
Gene stands, walks behind Ray and slips his hands under Ray's arms. Ray struggles, flings his head back, cracking it into Gene's nose but Gene continues to pull until Ray's on his feet and screaming, "No, nonono, no please I have to, he's..don't, I can't let him..please, let me go, Chris, Chris, CHRIS"
Sam places a hand beneath Chris's head and lowers him to the ground, all the while trying to ignore the howling devastation in Ray's voice and his own need to holler and shout and fight against the inevitable.
Ray watches Sam remove his coat and lay it over Chris's still form and collapses against Gene's chest. He feels Gene's arms go around him and his mind shatters into a tiny thousand pieces that keep rewinding the moment Chris's throat was cut.
He sees the blade slide right and Chris's blood showering him and he can feel it soaking into his skin all over again. Then he sees the crimson tide recede, slip back into Chris's body and the wound close. Over and over until he wants to scratch his own eyes out.
He shudders against Gene, buries his face in his shirt as if that'll stop the images bombarding his mind.
Gene grips Ray's shaking shoulders and knows, they've not just lost one man today, they've lost two.
Title: Crimson tide
Rating: Red Cortina
Words: 1382
Pairings: Chris/Ray
Spoilers: None
Warning: Character Death.
Summary: I am a leaf on the wind, watch me soar.
A/N: It's dark, it's not happy and it's just something I've been thinking on for a while.
Ray's been screaming for so long his voice has all but disappeared and his throat feels like raw meat but he's not gonna give up, not when they've got Chris. Not when he can see the knife in Lenny's hand and not when Chris's own voice is hoarse from begging for mercy.
It'd started as a two against two fire fight in the back of an abandoned club, it'd turned into a blood bath. Two'd turned to five and they'd ended up hiding behind upturned tables. They'd been holding their own, Ray'd radioed for back up but help never came, he and Chris'd run out of bullets and that, as they say, was that.
Now, he's being held down by four lanky fuckers half his size, no matter how weedy they might be individually, together they're more than a match and Ray's powerless to stop what's about to happen.
He's still struggling beneath them but Chris's gone completely quiet. The light in his eyes has faded and Ray can't remember ever seeing him look so vacant.
Ray's a strong bloke on a normal day, when provoked he's a complete beast but he still can't wrench himself free and Lenny's moving slowly closer, step by step. He and Chris are separated by five feet of space and guy with a bloody great blade. Five sodding feet and Ray can't do a god damn thing.
Lenny reaches out, bunches his fist in Chris's hair and yanks his head back, exposing his pale throat.
"Don't you dare, don't you fuckin' dare. Chris you div, fight, fight!"
Despite the four men pinning him down, Ray still manages to pull himself closer to Chris. There can't be more than three feet between them now, yet Ray still can't reach out and protect the most precious thing in his life.
Lenny points the knife at Ray, lets the tip waver towards his face and sneers, "Stay put or I'll gut 'im like a fish"
Ray growls, bares his teeth but says nothing.
"Good dog"
Chris's shut down. There's nothing, no spark, his eyes are completely dead. It's as if he's staring straight through Ray, to a place where he isn't about to die.
Lenny smirks, turns to Chris, pulls his head back further and slides the edge of the blade across his skin. As a tiny crimson line appears, Ray's stomach twists in on it's self and he howls.
Cold metal against hot flesh wakes Chris enough for him to focus on Ray.
Ray knows the very second he's back and wishes, with all his heart, that he'd stayed gone.
Lenny's not pushing hard enough to go through more than a few layers of skin but the blood slowly welling up pushes Ray over the edge into blind rage.
He renews his struggles, bucking and bracing, clawing at cloth and gnashing his teeth, pushing with everything he's got. He manages to throw one of the goons off but it's still not good enough and he's left panting and watching, helpless, as Chris mouths 'I'm sorry' and Lenny draws the blade quickly and cleanly across his throat.
There's a moment, just one, where Ray thinks he's imagined it, thinks the knife's not real, then Lenny lets go of Chris's hair, his head flops back at an unnatural angle and the spell's broken.
"Chris!"
As the first warm spray arcs through the air and trickles down Ray's face, he feels the men holding him upright, let go. All he can see is redredred and all he can hear is the sound of laughter and retreating footsteps.
He tastes a metallic tang and gags.
Chris's laying at an odd angle, eyes glassy, face paler than he's ever seen and Ray's first instinct is to straighten him out, make him more comfortable. Instead, he crawls forward, lifts Chris's head into his lap and starts combing his fingers through blood soaked strands.
"Come on Chris, stop bein' a prat, wake up. You're not dead, no, not dead, just sleepin'. Come on, stop messin about, it ain't funny, not funny no more"
He begins to rock from side to side, still sliding his hands against Chris's hair, "Ple..please, Chris, please!"
The blood still flowing from Chris's throat is seeping into Ray's trousers, saturating the material, causing them to stick against his skin and he feels the urge to rip them off but doesn't want to let go of the man in his arms.
Ray's radio crackles and hisses and the Guv's voice bounces off the walls, echoing across empty space, "Ray, Ray, we're almost there, hang on"
There's a dribble of crimson liquid snaking its way out of Chris's mouth and Ray reaches out to wipe it away. He just manages to spread it further across Chris's skin, staining the flesh pink. Ray panics and starts scrubbing furiously at Chris's face.
A car engine cuts across Ray's muffled thoughts, bringing him fully awake.
As Gene and Sam come skidding into the room, Ray holds his hands up in front of his face and screams.
"Oh Christ"
"Fucking cunt!"
Gene's the first person across the room and dropping to his knees, landing heavily, covering his coat and trousers in Chris's blood.
He reaches out, tries to check for a pulse but Ray hunches forward, completely covers Chris's body and shakes his head violently, "Don't touch, don't touch! He's sleepin', just sleepin' is all, you'll...you'll, don't wake him, no, not right, nononoNO!"
Gene watches Ray bunch his fists in Chris's shirt and feels his stomach turn over. There's blood everywhere, on the floor, on Ray's clothes and all over his face. He watches Ray lick his lips and has to fight the urge to throw up.
Sam sits down next to Ray, puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes him gently, "Ray, come on Ray, let him go yeah? We've got to get him to a hospital, we've got to..."
"NO! Doesn't need a 'ospital, just needs a rest an' he'll be fine, he'll be fuckin' fine, he has to be fine"
The ache in Sam's throat forces him to look away, to look away from Chris's unseeing eyes and Ray's palpable pain.
Gene sweeps his hand over Chris's face, closes his eyes and tries to lift him from Ray's lap.
Ray growls and claws at Gene's hands, "No, not takin' him away, you're not fuckin' takin' him away, he's...he's, he's mine, pl..please don't take him away, please"
Gene's heart's physically aching, he's got no clue, no fucking clue what Ray must be feeling but he can't let his own grief stop him from doing his job. He's got to get Ray up and away from Chris. He can see Sam's on the verge of tears and he feels his own eyes burning with them.
He makes a decision, looks to Sam and nods. Sam's eyes go wide but he nods in return and readies himself for what Gene's about to do.
Gene stands, walks behind Ray and slips his hands under Ray's arms. Ray struggles, flings his head back, cracking it into Gene's nose but Gene continues to pull until Ray's on his feet and screaming, "No, nonono, no please I have to, he's..don't, I can't let him..please, let me go, Chris, Chris, CHRIS"
Sam places a hand beneath Chris's head and lowers him to the ground, all the while trying to ignore the howling devastation in Ray's voice and his own need to holler and shout and fight against the inevitable.
Ray watches Sam remove his coat and lay it over Chris's still form and collapses against Gene's chest. He feels Gene's arms go around him and his mind shatters into a tiny thousand pieces that keep rewinding the moment Chris's throat was cut.
He sees the blade slide right and Chris's blood showering him and he can feel it soaking into his skin all over again. Then he sees the crimson tide recede, slip back into Chris's body and the wound close. Over and over until he wants to scratch his own eyes out.
He shudders against Gene, buries his face in his shirt as if that'll stop the images bombarding his mind.
Gene grips Ray's shaking shoulders and knows, they've not just lost one man today, they've lost two.