Damn It, NO!

(gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns)

Title: Damn It, NO!

Pairing: LaSalle x Reader

Word Count: 1,010

Warnings: shots fired *pew pew*, injured reader, angsty

A/N: Friday is a special day! Instead of getting a fic and a drabble, you get two fics today! I hope you all enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! The second fic will be a different request, but it will be more of a part two to this one.

This was requested by an anon: I was wondering if you could do one where Y/N gets shot in the field and it’s just the two of them and she starts to tell LaSalle she loves him, but he says no because that means she’s accepting that she’s dying, and he won’t let her die.

It was a summer night and you and LaSalle were chasing a lead.  Normally Pride didn’t send you out late at night, but this case was different.  These guys operated at night and you needed to get there before they could leave.  

LaSalle pulled his truck to a stop a block away from the warehouse.  He turned off the engine, putting the keys into his pocket.  While Percy was away on personal business, you and LaSalle were partners for the time being.  You admired the agent, but recently your feelings for him had blossomed into something more.

“You remember the plan don’cha [Y/N],” LaSalle asked, glancing over at you.  When you nodded, LaSalle opened his door and hopped out of his truck.  LaSalle rounded around his truck, joining you by your side.  “If they start shootin’ just duck for cover.  These guys are probably gunna wanna run from us.”

“Just make sure you stay out of the crossfire LaSalle,” you mused, flashing the agent a smile.  It was normal for the two of you to joke like this.  You secretly loved it.  He always kept you on your toes.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head at you.  “Let’s get goin’,” LaSalle nodded his head in the direction of the warehouse.  “Before we get there I think I’ll take the back, you can take the front.”

“Sounds good to me,” you shrugged as you walked beside LaSalle.  “Say Chris, what are you doing after this?”

“I was just gunna go home and watch football,” the agent replied, taking a glimpse at you.  “Why?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you mumbled.

“As long as you’re rootin’ for Alabama you’re welcome to join me,” LaSalle joked, that famous grin of his adorning his lips.  You had always loved that smile.  “Is everythin’ alright [Y/N]?”

“Of course,” you responded.  You were going to tell LaSalle about your feelings for him.  You had been thinking about it for a long time now.  The more time you spent with LaSalle, the more your feelings became obvious to you.

As you and LaSalle neared the rundown warehouse, you withdrew your guns from their holsters.  LaSalle nodded as he briskly went towards the back of the warehouse.  You waited for LaSalle’s signal before busting through the front door.

“NCIS,” you shouted holding your gun in the air.  A few shots were fired at you as you took cover behind the crates near the door.  The bullets whizzed through the wooden crates, almost hitting you.  You peeked around the crates, shooting one of the gunmen.  LaSalle must have shot one of the three men as well, because you didn’t see the third guy.

Before you could take cover, the other man you were attempting to shoot, shot you in the shoulder.  You dropped to your knees behind the crates, clutching your shoulder.  Blood was already seeping through your shirt.

There was another gunshot before LaSalle rushed to your side.  The look of terror and concern was written all over his face.  “Didn’t ya tell me to stay outta the crossfire,” LaSalle halfheartedly scolded.  He called in an ambulance before he moved your hand away to assess the damage.  “You’re bleedin’ like a stuffed pig [Y/N].”

You laughed, your breathing becoming more labored.  “You’ve always got a joke up your sleeve don’t you Chris.” you huffed out a small laugh.  You looked over at your shoulder, wincing not only at the pain, but at the sight of how much blood you were losing.

LaSalle put pressure on your shoulder, knowing full well that it was going to hurt you.  “I know it hurts [Y/N], but ya gotta let me apply pressure,” LaSalle reasoned.  “Otherwise you’re gunna bleed out.  And we can’t have that now, can we?”

“Chris there’s something I have to tell you,” you murmured, taking a deep breath.

“Talkin’ is a good idea,” Chris praised.  “What’s on ya mind sweet pea?”

“I was going to come over so I could tell you something,” you spoke between breaths.

“How about you tell me when you come over,” LaSalle suggested, giving you a nervous smile.  “It sounds like it’s important.”

“It is,” you assured him.  “That’s why I have to tell you now  Just in case I don’t make it.”  You were starting to feel lightheaded and breathing was getting harder to do as the minutes passed by.  “LaSalle, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna come right out and say it.  I love you.  At first it was one of those school girl crushes.  Then as time went on, I just fell for you.  I love the way you get into football games.  I love the way you always have something funny to say.  I love the way you are dedicated to you job.”  You paused, trying to take a deep breath.

“Damn it, no,” LaSalle muttered.  “You’re gunna make it through this [Y/N].  Then we can really talk ‘bout this.  I won’t letcha give up [Y/N].”  LaSalle had feelings for you since the day you started working at NCIS.  Before Percy had left on a personal matter, he asked her what he should do about it.  Percy told him to just say it, but for some reason he held it back.  Now he was regretting that decision.  LaSalle cupped your face with one of his hands.  “Sugar belle, ya gotta keep goin’.  Ya hear me?  You’re not gunna go out like this.”

“Christopher LaSalle,” you whispered.  “You never give up on anyone do you?”

“Hell no,” LaSalle insisted, huffing out a small laugh.  “I’m sure as hell not ‘bout to give up on you either.”  LaSalle heard sirens in the distance, making him relax slightly.  “Just hold on [Y/N].  That ambulance is almost here.  We’re gunna getcha to a hospital and patch ya up, okay?”

“If I don’t make it LaSalle,” you breathed.  “I’m sorry.”

“Ya got nothin’ to be sorry for,” LaSalle reassured you.  “You’re gunna be just fine. [Y/N].  I promise.”

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