"Haven't you ever wondered why my father says caring's not an advantage, Doctor Watson?"
"Because he's a huge prick?"
I shake my head with a small smile. "No. Because people like us are generally hurt due to the way our brains work."
The Army doctor tilts his head in confusion with his brows furrowed.
"People only use us for our intelligence. It's better not to be attached to those outside of family and even then family can harm you."
I know I have other fanfictions I need to finish for other fandoms but this plot bunny just won't hop away so I'd figure I'd get it out of the way now.
Random updates to be expected. This fanfiction won't be my first priority.
Preface
"Sherlock, she down! She's been hit!" Doctor Watson's voice cries over the sound of gunshots. I land hard on my stomach as fire spreads through my right shoulder and the left side of my chest, a wet warmth following right after. I clench my teeth to keep from making a single sound of agony from passing through but can't stop the chest-rattling cough from escaping.
It seems the bullet is stuck in my lower lung.
I'm dying and yet everything is running through my mind crystal clear. My mind has disconnected me from my body which is currently going through shock. It's almost as if it's not even happening.
It's enough to make me wonder whether or not the same will happen to Papa and Uncle when the time comes actually...
"Go to her, John!" Uncle's deep baritone sounds close by as my body is forcibly turned over onto my back. "I'll cover you!"
More coughs escape, that familiar metallic taste on my tongue called blood with it, causes the good doctor's eyes to widen as he takes off the hoodie I bought him three months ago off and presses it against my chest for pressure to try and staunch the bleeding.
He's scared for me and yet highly focused on the task at hand. His training is shining through.
In one moment, he's going to call out to Uncle about my condition and the severity of the situation. Knowing Uncle, he'll have his phone out on speaker so Papa can hear what's going on.
He won't be pleased to learn that I've gotten hurt like this again. Uncle and his blogger will get a scolding because of it.
"Sherlock, she needs a hospital right now! One bullet passed through her right shoulder and the other is currently lodged in her left lung! She's coughing up blood!"
"Back-up is on the way! Keep her breathing, John! Keep her awake! Don't let her lose consciousness!"
"I know that already, Sherlock!"
My heart rate has picked up and my breathing has become irregular. It's also starting get cold now, the world is spinning even through I'm laying down, and my vision is blurring. That and Doctor Watson also looks highly alarmed and is even paler than he was a few minutes ago. Severe blood loss is the only logical conclusion.
Uncle and Papa would be proud. Even while dying, I'm still deducing everything going on around me. It's the ultimate proof that I have the Holmes mind.
"...-line, stay... me... -elp is... -n the... -ay... -eep... open!... -line!"
The sounds have dulled. Even the gunshots are starting to sound like echoes of themselves now. I'm actually having problems piecing together what Doctor Watson is saying. That's a bit not good.
"Ani-" Uncle Sherlock's face appears in my line of blurry vision. I can kind of feel his hand caressing my hair and face.
His silvery eyes are wide and his hands are shaking. He's really frightened for me. Uncle Sherlock is completely and utterly panicking right now.
How strange to see...
"Un-" a coughing fit stops what I'm trying to say, blood splattering the pale faces above me. I can barely feel the hands touching my body as the coughing continues and doesn't stop.
I can feel my heart speeding up and becoming irregular. It will stop soon. I can't really breathe anymore. My vision is now cutting in and out and my hearing is completely gone...
It's so cold. Why is it so cold?
...I don't want to die. Uncle Sherlock? Can you hear me? I don't want to die. Please, Uncle Sherlock! Don't let me die!
"Aniline!"
... Please...