A/N: Okay, here is the next chapter. I hope you like how it turned out.

"NO!"

Both Wilson and Lestrade flinched at the sudden scream.

Lestrade saw how Sherlock jumped at Wilson. His long black coat fluttering behind him, his arms spread out.

The sound of a gunshot echoed between the walls of the alley.

Sherlock staggered backwards, one of his arms pressed against his abdomen. The other stretched out, trying to find something to hold on to. Lestrade couldn't see his face, he had his back turned against him, but from the sicken sound, something between a cry and a moan, he understood that he was in pain.

Everything in the alley seemed like it had stopped.

Wilson stood there, with the gun still raised, almost looking shocked.

Lestrade lay on his back, still gasping for air. He stared at Sherlock, who now slowly had started to turn around.

He faced Lestrade, his eyes wide open. His pale eyes staring straight through him, filled with pain. His mouth open, screaming a silent scream. His right hand was pressed against a wound in his lower chest. Blood, so much blood was streaming through his fingers, soaking his coat.

"...Lestra-" He began, but was forced to stop. He started to cough, his whole frame shaking. His face strained with pain."...p'ease..."

Then his knees buckled beneath him, and he fell to the ground, landing with a thud and a weak groan of pain.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade screamed, starting to get up.

He had to get to him, to help him. But he stopped as he suddenly was staring straight into the barrel of a gun. Wilson was standing in front of him, no longer looking shocked. He was smiling again.

"I wouldn't think so..., stay where you are..."He said moved closer, pressing the gun against Lestrade's forehead."...One move and I will shoot, first you...and then the boy."

He smirked as he saw the expression on Lestrade's face. He knew that Lestrade knew. Wilson wouldn't let them live, even if Lestrade did what he wanted.

"Okay Wilson, let's think about this..." He said slowly, raising his hands in defence."...You have already killed two people, you don't want to kill two more. Not a cop, and especially not him, his brother would make you disappear with a flick of his finger..."

"They wouldn't find me."Wilson said, the gun trembling in his hand."I don't want to go to prison...I- you know what happens to guys like me in prison. I wouldn't survive..."

"Y-You...'ll only...make ...'t worse..." Both of them looked at Sherlock in surprise as he spoke. He was still laying on the ground, on his side, arms pressed against the wound, looking straight at them. "You...know...'m right...Killing a cop...you would...never...ge-...t out... I...understand...why...you... did it. Killed your...sister...I mean... You father...hated you...abused you...didn't he? But not her... never her...h-he loved...her... And she...didn't do any-...thing...to stop him...the...little girl...only... got in...the way...She saw...you..."

He probably would have continued, but then he started coughing again. Blood speckled his lips, ran down his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Wilson turned against Sherlock. His whole arm trembling as he aimed the gun at him.

"Shut up!"Wilson screamed, his eyes looking wild, flickering around the alley."SHUT! UP! You don't know a thing about me..."

"...He abused...you...for a...long...time...years...And she... didn't care...daddy's...girl...didn't do anything...even...as you...begged...her. You...begged her...didn't you...to...make...him stop-"

"Shut up!"Wilson cried, wavering the gun."I will shoot you...you and your DI friend..."

"Okay Wilson"Lestrade said, slowly standing up, his hand raised."Let's think about this..."

"Don't come any closer...I'll shoot!" Wilson turned around, aiming at Lestrade again.

His whole body was trembling. 'He is losing it...' Lestrade thought.

"Just let me help him...please..." Lestrade said, looking at Sherlock's trembling form.

Sherlock was pale as a ghost, paler that Lestrade had ever seen him. He was laying on the ground, breathing with short, painful breaths. Silent, except from a whimper, that occasionally escaped his lips. His pale eyes was staring, straight at Lestrade. But it was like he didn't see him. He was staring through him. Sherlock was barely conscious any more.

"He's dying...please let me help him." Lestrade started to walk against Sherlock again, but stopped as Wilson wavered the gun at him."Please let me help him..."

"NO! Stay where you are..."

"Carl Wilson listen to me." Lestrade said as calm as he could."I have backup arriving soon. And then you will have no chance. We know who you are. If you kill us, it would only get worse. You don't want to have two more persons lives on your conscience."

Lestrade really hoped that Hopkins would find them soon, he must have heard the gunshot.

"Give me the gun Carl... you don't want this..." He moved a little closer again, one of his hands out retched."Give me the gun. Please."

"I said stay where you are!"Carl Wilson screamed, but he was starting look unsure now. Like he was afraid."Stay...I will shoot..."

"Think about this Carl..." Lestrade said with calm voice."...Give. Me. The gun..." He moved a little closer.

"I'm warning you...don't come any closer..."

Lestrade ignored him. He slowly moved closer. His left hand up in the air, his right retched out against the gun.

"Please, give me the gun...and I will make sure you get a good lawyer...I can't do that if you shoot. Give me the gun please, at least let me help him..."

"No...stay where you are...I don't want to go to prison..."

Lestrade looked at Sherlock again. He was even paler now, almost white. A puddle of blood was forming around him, and it kept growing. He had his hands against the wound, but was too weak to keep pressure. Blood was leaking between his fingers. He wasn't conscious any more. He was slowly bleeding out.

"Please... let me help him..." Lestrade said," Please, or he'll die. You don't want this Carl... He hasn't done anything against you... Please... he's just a kid..."

It looked like Carl Wilson was thinking about it, his grip around the gun loosed a little. His eyes were flickering around the alley again. Then he stretched himself up, holding the gun tighter again.

"...No...I would die..." He aimed the gun straight at Lestrade's heart."I wont go to prison..."

"Now think about this..." Lestrade said calmly, stopping his track. Both hands raised.

"I'm sorry..." Carl Wilson whispered, and Lestrade saw his finger slowly starting to squeeze the trigger.

BANG!

A/N: Cliffhanger! Please review and tell me what you think of it.