And there's another chapter for our beloved readers!
To our dear reviewers: again many, many thanks. We apologise for Elizabeth's fate, but it's already decided. There is nothing we can do to change her fate. If it's any conciliation, we cried while writing it... :')
At any rate, we hope you'll enjoy reading it, and as usual, please fav/follow and review. Thanks! :D
It was half October.
The trees were colouring red and becoming bare.
Speaking and swallowing problems were becoming more and more frequent for Elizabeth. Her headaches were getting worse as well.
The couple was attending a case in Chelsea, while John was out with Mary.
Twelve people were found dead in an abandoned shed at the end of a construction site, six men and six women, the youngest in her thirties, the oldest more than seventy years old. They were positioned in a circle and wearing long, deep red or blue cloaks.
The shed was entirely bolted shut. The only entrance appeared to be the doors through which the Yarders just entered.
"Okay, Sherlock, what have we got?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock looked around, observing and deducing. So did his girlfriend and together they saw everything.
"Some very obscure satanic cult. Twelve suffocations. They didn't die simultaneously, but too short after each other to realize what was going on and panic. Not sure yet what they suffocated on. Can be several causes. Elizabeth?"
He turned around.
"Elizabeth?"
The young woman looked at him, her eyes wide open, terrified. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She was on the brink of tears.
"Help me," she mouthed.
Sherlock took her apart.
"Look at me. Look me in the eyes."
Elizabeth nodded.
"What did we do on our very first date?"
A completely random question, but it would help her regain her speech.
"We solved a triple homicide in two minutes and then went to see 'The Phantom of The Opera' in West End," Elizabeth whispered, gasping for air.
"Better?"
"Yes."
"Good," Sherlock smiled and they kissed each other.
Elizabeth turned around.
"These people died of carbon monoxide poisoning," she said.
"How do you know that?"
"Look at that heater. It's an old-fashioned heater that, as long as the room is properly ventilated, is harmless. If not, then it can be very dangerous. Carbon monoxide binds itself much easier to hemoglobin than oxygen does. Therefore, even a small amount of carbon monoxide can be lethal. People often don't even realize something's wrong before it's too late."
"So it was an accident, then?" Lestrade asked.
"I didn't say that."
"How can this not be an accident?"
"Simple," Sherlock said, "That heater doesn't belong here. It was placed here later, to kill these exact people."
"I don't get it."
"Surprising," Elizabeth murmured.
"Explanation, please," Lestrade said a bit irritated.
"The doors were locked from the outside, Lestrade. How can it be an accident, or a group suicide for that matter, if the doors were locked from the outside?" Elizabeth said annoyed.
"Good point," Lestrade said.
"So it was murder. Perhaps someone tried to become a member of this cult. Perhaps that someone wasn't accepted and was angry about it," Sherlock said.
"Someone really doesn't know how to deal with rejection," Elizabeth said with a smirk.
Sherlock smiled too and they kissed each other.
"All you got to do is check that entire heater and that lock. You'll find your guy soon enough," Sherlock said.
"Really?"
"Yep, he's too stupid to realize that there are more ways than just fingerprints to find someone," Sherlock said and then walked out the door with his girlfriend.
"Are you all right, my love?" he asked.
"A bit nauseous," Elizabeth muttered. She looked a bit queasy indeed.
"I think I'm going to throw up," she said and put her hand over her mouth. She gagged.
They quickly went to the site office that also had a restroom. Sherlock waited outside until she was done.
"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked.
"A whole lot better," Elizabeth said with a faint smile.
"Good to hear," Sherlock said and kissed her tenderly.
Then they walked outside again where Lestrade and Donovan were waiting.
"What the hell was that?" Lestrade asked.
"I wasn't feeling so well," Elizabeth said, "I felt a bit nauseous. Could have been the carbon monoxide."
"Are you feeling better now, Your Ladyship?" Lestrade asked a bit worried.
"Yes, thank you, Detective," Elizabeth said casually and walked to the cab that was waiting for her and Sherlock.
"Sherlock, is everything alright with Elizabeth?" Lestrade asked concerned.
"At the moment or in general?"
"I don't know. At the moment, I guess…."
"At the moment she's doing okay. Better than a few moments ago, at least," Sherlock said.
"And in general?"
Sherlock looked questioningly at Elizabeth, who nodded almost invisibly.
"In general…, not so good," Sherlock sighed.
"How come?"
"Elizabeth… is terminally ill. She'll make it another two months. Three at most."
"I beg your pardon?" Lestrade asked.
"You heard me."
"Yeah, I heard you. I just couldn't believe it. What disease does she have?"
"A rare form of hereditary brainstem cancer," Sherlock said and walked to the cab as well, leaving a baffled Lestrade behind.
A week before Christmas.
Elizabeth had an appointment with her doctor. Sherlock went with her and John brought them with the car Elizabeth had given him for his birthday.
"Lady Bennington?" a nurse asked.
"Yes?"
"Doctor Joneston will see you now," the nurse said.
"Thank you," Elizabeth said, stood up and followed her with Sherlock and John.
A moment later, they arrived at doctor Joneston's room.
"Lady Bennington, long time no see," doctor Joneston said, while he held out his hand.
"Yes, how long has it been, doctor? Five, six years?" Elizabeth smiled, while she shook his hand.
"Yes, five and a half to be exact," the doctor said, "How are you doing, Your Ladyship?"
"Occasionally fine."
"We'll run some scans to see what your status is, okay?"
"Of course."
"Who are these gentlemen?" doctor Joneston asked, looking at Sherlock and John.
"Oh, this is my boyfriend, Mister Sherlock Holmes. And his best friend, doctor John Watson."
"Pleasure to meet you," doctor Joneston said.
Sherlock nodded politely. John smiled briefly.
"If the gentlemen will wait here while we're doing the scans. It'll take half an hour at most," the doctor said and took Elizabeth to the scan room.
Sherlock pulled out his phone and began to do seemingly important stuff on it. John grabbed a paper and began reading it.
After a while, Sherlock looked up and glanced at John.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," John said.
"You've got something on your mind, John. I can see it."
"Okay, okay…. Fine…, I'll tell you," John sighed and cleared his throat.
"You told me, Sherlock, that love is a chemical defect, a dangerous disadvantage. Yet, of all people in the world, you chose to fall in love someone who is terminally ill. She's going to die and you're going to get hurt. You know that, don't you?"
"John, if you really need to ask that question, then I don't think you truly understand love…" Sherlock said a bit annoyed.
John opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again. Sherlock was right.
A moment later, the door of the scan room opened again.
"I'll be there in a moment," doctor Joneston said to Elizabeth, who nodded calmly. Then she walked to her boyfriend and they kissed each other lovingly.
"What were you guys talking about?" she asked.
"Nothing," John said as casually as possible.
Elizabeth frowned as she saw that he was lying. She looked at Sherlock and realized what they had discussed.
"Don't lie, John. You know that I can see it when you lie," she said.
John turned a bit red. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
"So what were you talking about exactly?" Elizabeth asked again.
"I was just wondering why Sherlock ever decided to fall in love with you. I mean falling in love in general, not you in particular."
"Why? Because love is a chemical defect? A dangerous disadvantage? Don't you think that I know that?" Elizabeth asked, "I am well aware of the fact that he is going to get hurt when I die. I didn't want to fall in love at first either, but such things you just can't plan."
"I'm sorry," John said softly.
Sherlock smiled and gave his girlfriend a peck on her ear, causing her to smile blushing.
Then the door of the scan room opened and doctor Joneston came out.
"The scans are at my office," he said, "Shall we go?"
Elizabeth nodded and took Sherlock's hand. John followed. A few minutes they arrived at doctor Joneston's office and he turned off the lights to see the scans.
"Okay, Your Ladyship, I know we agreed that you'd come back after five years, but I now think we should have kept an eye on this more regularly."
"I know, doctor. But as you said, we agreed on it. So can we please move on?" Elizabeth said slightly annoyed.
"Of course, my Lady, apologies. As you can see, the tumor has grown exponentially over the past five years. I am quite surprised that you still manage to do so well."
"Lots of painkillers usually do the trick…" Elizabeth said calmly.
"I see. But, my Lady, to be fair, I don't think you will hold up much longer…" the doctor said.
"I am well aware of that."
"Well then…, I think we have nothing else to discuss," doctor Joneston said, "Don't you?"
"Probably not," Elizabeth said. She always got irritated by visiting hospitals.
"Good afternoon, then, Lady Bennington."
"Good afternoon, doctor Joneston."
After that, Elizabeth and Sherlock left again. John quickly came after them.
"Wow, that was it?" he asked, "We had to wait half an hour to make some scans and you talked about them for less than two minutes!"
"Why would I need any longer?"
"I don't know, to discuss the risks?"
"Discuss what risks? I already know what I can and can't do and with painkillers I already get a lot further," Elizabeth said.
Sherlock simply shrugged and walked to John's car. Then they drove back to 221B Baker Street.
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