Hi guys, i'm in love with one shots at the moment, so here is another one. I'm feeling more than slightly down... everyone has left. Hence the angst. This really isn't that good, but i wanted to write it, so here you go.

Disclaimer: How many more times? I own nothing :-(

God it hurt, her whole body had jolted when the knife had cruelly sliced through her skin, tearing flesh.

She had screamed but no one had come. It was dark, her attacker had been quick, silent and was no longer anywhere to be seen.

She was bleeding though, bleeding so much. The hot, gushing liquid refused to be contained by her hands. It hurt to apply pressure, but it would be worse too.

The red liquid was staining her clothes, her hands were covered in her own blood.

Just a little further now…

It was late, but surely, but her team, she knew they would be in there, she had told them to stay till she got back – in case she got anything out of the suspect.

She prayed that they would have followed orders.

Her breath was short, she wasn't sure she was going to make it up there.

A blood stained hand withdrew from her wound quickly so she could slap it onto the elevator button she wanted.

She leaned against the side of the elevator, it was all she could do to muster up the strength to stay balanced, let alone walk out of here.

And the pain, it was just overwhelming. But she was a survivor. She could survive this too. Just a little longer…

Jane was sat up on his couch, fiddling with a piece of paper, when he heard Lisbon, whisper his name.

"Jane?"

He looked up, and panic engulfed him, blood, bright red and hot was everywhere on her.

"Lisbon," he said a hysterical edge to his voice as he ran over to help.

He got to her just in time, she collapsed in his arms.

"Help," he shouted.

He looked down at the woman in his arms; she looked so weak, and so so pale.

She looked like a ghost of the strong woman he knew.

"Lisbon, Lisbon, it's ok, I need you to tell me what happened." He said in a hurried whisper.

"I'm sorry, Patrick…" she trailed off.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, you're going to make it, and you're going to be fine." He said, trying to convince himself that those words were the truth. They had to be, because he didn't know what he would do if they weren't.

Her beautiful green eyes that he so often took for granted were half closed.

"No, Teresa come on, stay with me. You're strong! You can fight this."

Cho and Van Pelt came rushing round the corner at that precise moment, "Oh god!" Van Pelt said in shock, "oh my god,"

"Cho call an ambulance," Jane said immediately.

The shocked man said nothing, but quickly got his cell phone out.

She was closing her eyes again, "Come on stay with me," he pleaded.

"I'm trying," she mumbled.

He felt a tiny hint of relief she was still conscious, she would do this, "I know, but you have to try harder, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,"

If he had gone with her, if he had offered, this might have never happened. It was his fault. He normally goes with her to interview suspects, why not this time? Of all the times in the past when he had gone? Why not the important time?

"You need to fight, I can't loose you too." He said in barely a whisper.

She was getting weaker. He could feel her muscles as they completely relaxed, and her fluttering eyelids closed gently.

"No, no, no no no."

Desperately, he continued to apply pressure to the wound, muttering incoherently to himself. He checked her pulse, hoping, praying.

Weak but there.

"Come on, you're a fighter," he whispered, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

What do you think? I know it was short, but hey. If requested i'll post another chapter, but it depends how many people want it.