His hand stung, sharp and pulsing, and he stared as she fell back, almost in slow motion, the image of her reaching for him burnt into his mind's eye. And then there was that crack, and his breath caught in his chest, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.
The world swung back, heavy and hard, and he stepped forward, feeling the moistness beneath his shoe, and he stared at it, stooping to touch fingers to it, then back up to stare at her still form. "Olivia?" he asked, voice hoarse, a bit panicked.
"Olivia?" Simon moved towards her then, feeling suddenly ice cold in the night air as he touched her face, pushed hair back from her forehead, whispering her name again. "This isn't funny, Olivia. This..." Lips pursed tightly and his breathing quickened. "Olivia, wake. Up."