(Jack, Gwen)

Didn't Come Back

Jack dived in front of Gwen and the bullet meant for her entered his chest instead. He fell, dead, palm over the wound.

Gwen took the opportunity to shoot back. She hit the shooter between the eyes. He was dead before he touched ground.

Satisfied the shooter could do no further harm, she knelt by Jack's body, laying a hand over his heart. "Come on, Jack. Come back to me."

He didn't.

She gritted her teeth and waited. Nothing. Her frustration began to change into worry. "Come on!" She slapped his face. "Don't you dare die on me for real, Jack. Don't even think about it." She slapped him again.

This time, she was rewarded with a yelp of pain from Jack and a mild heart attack for herself as he shot upright.

"You bastard," she told him, slapping him again.

"What was that for?!" Jack said. "I just died, you know."

"I know," she said, reaching out to slap him another time.

Jack shifted back quickly enough to avoid the blow. "Hey! Watch it."

"You do that to me again and I'm going to find a way to bring you back to life so I can kill you myself."

"I… what?! I just saved your life!"

Gwen glared at him. "But you didn't come back. Not like the other times."

Jack took both her hands in his. "I'm right here. See?" He guided her hands to rest them on his chest. Her eyes locked onto where her hands touched him and she felt her breath tightening.

Instead of bursting into tears as she half desired to do, she pulled back and formed a fist, sending it into his jaw. "Stupid should hurt," she explained to him as he cradled his face, and then she turned and headed back to the car. She didn't look back to see if he was following.

Under her breath, she muttered, "One day you might not come back."