Written for the April two-day drabble challenge on the discoveredinalj livejournal community

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Doyle pulls the trigger and hears a dull click.

Stoppage.

He throws himself to one side, but already knows he's too late. The bullet slams into his shoulder, pushing him over the edge of the rooftop.

Flailing his good arm, hand clutching at thin air, he's desperate for purchase on something, anything. A flash of green passes by and his fingers curl around something cool, something strong. Something alive.

Just like Bodie, he thinks, clutching the ivy and steadying himself against the brickwork, willing the pain in his shoulder to go away.

Saving me when I thought I was lost.

-- THE END --

April 2008