Fandom: "Without a Trace"
Characters: Samantha Spade, Jack Malone. Allusions to Barry Mashburn.
Prompt: 51. Water.
Word Count: 309
Summary: The pain, the stickiness...it was all too familiar.
Author's Notes: Set in the (not too distant) future.
One Shot Deal
All-consuming pain ripped through her abdomen, as she jolted upright, clutching the sweat-soaked bedclothes to her chest. She fumbled for her bedside lamp in the darkness when she felt something sticky on her hand.
The pain. The stickiness.
Blindly, she glanced around her apartment, stumbling out of bed, into the other room. She'd moved her gun, she remembered, though she couldn't remember why--
Her sticky hand now tightened around the weapon when she saw the partially opened window.
The pain. The stickiness. The open window.
Grasping her gun, she picked up the phone, dialing frantically.
"...Ma...lone," he slurred into the receiver, after the fourth ring.
"Jack? Jack, I think I've been shot."
"Sa...mantha?" He sounded slightly more awake now.
"He must've broken in through my window -- I don't know how he found me." She grabbed a dish towel from the counter, pressing it to her stomach. "We need to put an APB out on him -- clearly he's escaped from prison."
A brief pause. "Who's escaped?"
"Barry Mashburn," she replied, impatiently. "He shot me, just like he did last time -- only this time, it was in the chest. I'm trying to staunch the bleeding, but it's pretty distended already..."
"So, you don't think it hit the baby?"
She was silent.
"...Baby," she managed.
Then, everything seemed to slow down -- her frantic movements turned sluggish. The towel she was holding against her stomach was clean. So were her hands, as she finally flicked on a light. Nothing was caked with red.
"I have to go," she stated, almost robotically, into the phone.
"Samantha, is the baby--" Click.
As she grabbed her coat and slipped on her shoes, she wondered if she'd see Jack at the hospital. At least that would be the one improvement over the last time he thought she'd been shot.