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Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Blue.
Blue, the sky was a beautiful, clear endless blue. Sapphire, cerulean, azure all blue, no clouds just sky pure and unbroken overhead. Why am I looking at the sky Dutch wondered fleetingly, then became distracted by the noises. They sounded a long way off and muffled but they were annoying him because they were distracting him from the blue. There was shouting he decided and loud popping noises too. Suddenly he couldn't see the blue any more instead a face loomed over him. That's why he could see the sky, he was lying down on the ground that must be why he was so cold. He hadn't noticed the cold before but now realized that it had been creeping into his bones all this time. A warm hand touched his face gently and he stared up into a worried pair of deep, brown eyes. He knew that face, but his brain just wasn't working well and he couldn't think. The mouth was moving before him and he stared at it fascinated but unable to turn the sounds coming from it into something that made any sense. Claudette, that was the owner of the face, she had turned from him and was shouting, when she turned back he was shocked by the anger on her face. Dutch was worried had he done something to annoy her, upset her. He had to get up, he couldn't just lie here, he needed to make things right, he couldn't bear for Claudette to be mad at him, he didn't want to lose her partnership, her respect, but most of all her friendship. It was only now he realized how tired he felt, he felt drained and as he tried to lift himself up he found his strength gone. It had gone and been replaced with cold, he began to shiver the very blood in his veins seeming to turn to ice. Sleep that's what he needed, if he could just sleep he'd feel better and then he'd be able to make up with Claudette, but first just a few minutes of rest. Suddenly a sharp pain deep in his side startled him back to awareness. He moved his head to the side and found a grim faced Vic Mackey kneeling by him, his hands pressed on Dutch's side. It was this action on Vic's part which was causing him pain, before that his body had been pleasantly numb. Dutch tried to move away, to escape the pain that seemed to be escalating, becoming a burning sensation in his chest. There was Claudette again her intense gaze seemed to reach into his very soul. At least she didn't look angry any more instead she looked worried, scared even, and Dutch decided he didn't like these expressions on his partner's face either. He knew deep down that he was causing this, causing her to be upset.
They'd been on a case, a robbery homicide he could remember that. What else? Of course the suspects, they'd traced their get away car to a local motel and had gone with the strike team and several uniformed officers as backup to make the arrests. He remembered leaving The Barn and then not much else. It was all jumbled, blurred images of shouting and loud explosions of noise, gunfire and then the blue sky. God he hurt, Dutch wasn't sure if he'd ever experienced such intense pain in his life. He could hear Mackey shouting now, and Claudette's low soft voice talking to him, he couldn't be sure what she said but the sound of her voice soothed him, made him feel safe, protected. There was another sound; it had been going on for several minutes it seemed to Dutch, and it was starting to bug him, it grated on his nerves. It was a keening sound, like an animal in pain; it seemed to surround him and wouldn't leave him alone, despite Claudette's soothing voice in his ear or the feel of her hand stroking his hair back from his forehead. It was a shock when he recognised the keening voice to be his own. It was even more of a surprise when he realized that he couldn't stop the sound from coming from between his lips.
He could feel his eyes becoming heavy, and yet he tried to fight the exhaustion that was threatening to consume him body and soul. He knew deep down that he had to stay awake, but it was just so hard. He was fighting now for every breath; as if a huge weight was settling on his chest, slowly suffocating him. The urge to cough was becoming hard to ignore, and as he felt the pressure building in his throat he sucked in a ragged breath and gave into it, regretting it immediately. Dutch thought he would pass out from the huge wave of agony that ripped through him, a rush of warm, coppery liquid flooded his mouth adding nausea to his discomfort. He felt the viscous, sticky liquid being disgorged from his mouth and running down his chin. The feeling of suffocation was rapidly being replaced by a sensation of drowning.
Suddenly Claudette was gone and a stranger had taken her place, he felt bereft without her there, and only now realized when his hand felt cold and empty that she had been holding it. He needed her, she made him feel safe and he began to panic trying to see where she was. The stranger was trying to get his attention, shouting at him but Dutch ignored him and tried to find Claudette. Something was being placed on his face over his nose and mouth; he was losing his battle to stay awake, his eyelids becoming heavy. Suddenly he heard himself cry out in pain as he was moved and lifted up off the ground, but even the pain seemed to be becoming distanced from his reality. He felt as if he was falling and when he used the last of his strength to drag his eyes open he saw blue. His beautiful, clear blue sky was back. He felt a tear slowly slip from the corner of his eye and run into his hair, tickling at his ear as it did. Then the blue was gone again and the last thing he saw as his eyes finally slid shut was the cold, white metallic roof of the ambulance.