I'm sorry, but I have to whine again. It's not like I am desperate for reviews, but come on guys, a little appreciation would be nice. Thanks to Expecto and Pumpkin for keeping reviewing all the way through, I really appreciate it, but there are more readers out there, and I feel you should review, too. Not only my stories, but all the stories you read. Imagine if there were no writers, what would you do, wait for 2013 to get more Sherlock? You can't be serious.

Disclaimer: see prologue. Title of this chapter is from Shakira's Lo quiero a morir

Chapter Thirteen: Je l'aime à mourir

Sorcha didn't even bother dressing properly. She grabbed her coat, her keys, slipped her boots on and raced to the park. It was huge, but she knew where the phone booths were, so that narrowed the search.

When she arrived at the second one, she saw him. Curled into a ball, barely moving. She dashed by his side, "Jim? Jim, talk to me." No answer. She was hesitant to touch him, not knowing whether she would hurt him if she did. So, she took off her coat, spread it over his lifeless frame, and whispered, "I'll call an ambulance. I'll be right back." She was back a minute later. Panting, she tried to remember what her mother had told her. Recovery position. Most important thing. He mustn't choke. But good Lord, how was the position again? Calm down. Calm down. Easy. It's easy. Breathe. Mouth downward. Chin upward. Stabilize him. Arms and legs. Easy. Stop being a pansy. "Okay, Jim, I hope this doesn't hurt too much. I need to touch your face now. It's okay, I won't harm you." She took another breath and tried to bring his head into position. It was dark, so she couldn't see his face, but she felt the blood on her hands. "Oh, Jim… This bastard…" She ran the back of her index finger over his cheek, feeling the swelling. "I will kill him. I will kill him."

He suddenly stirred, "No… no… more…"

She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Jim, it's okay, you're safe now. Ambulance is on its way. You're safe."

He cracked an eye open, "Sor…a…ka…"

"Yes, it's me… Don't worry, Carl is gone." She leaned in, "I'm so sorry, Jim. It was my fault, because I wanted that revenge thing."

"That smell… much better… your coat…"

"What do you mean, much better?" Then she smelled it. Urine. Bastard. Fucking bastard. "I will kill him."

"I… will… my… mother… call…"

"I will call her as soon as I know where they'll bring you. Don't worry, Jim, I've got everything under control. Everything will be okay. I'll stay with you."

Sorcha called Jim's mother first thing when she was at the hospital. When the mother finally arrived, with a man following her, Sorcha was shocked at how worn out she looked, "Mrs Moriarty."

"Yes, that's me. Are you Miss Moran?"

"It's Mrs Brook." The man said. "And I am Marlon Brook." He reached out his hand, which Sorcha ignored.

"Sorcha, please. The doctor is looking after him. He'll be alright I'm sure."

"Was he conscious? Did he talk to you? What happened?"

"Jamie, please, don't make such a big fuss. I'm sure he had it coming."

Jamie Moriarty turned towards her husband, "He had it coming? Are you out of your mind? Nobody deserves being beaten up. Go. Leave. I don't want you here."

The man tilted his head, "Excuse me, I think I misunderst…"

"No, you didn't. This is my son we're talking about, and you put it like he was some sort of scum. I am sick of you! I should have said it much earlier, but I was afraid. I am not anymore! It's because of you we had to move here, and because we live here, my son was beaten up so badly that he had to be admitted to a hospital! I am done with you, Marlon! Now go!" She shook her head, "I will leave tomorrow first thing in the morning. No, you know what, I'm leaving right now. Now GO!" She actually shoved him. A lioness protecting her cub. Sorcha watched the exchange, fascinated. She had not expected this. "LEAVE!"

Brook's fist tightened. Sorcha muttered, "My father is on his way. He's a retired soldier. And my brother. A boxer. Are you sure you really want to do this?"

He turned to her, "Who asked for your opinion anyways?"

"Mrs Moriarty wants you to leave. You better do what she wants. I have a loud voice. I can scream. Everybody will come."

He looked at her, but then whispered to his wife, "This isn't over, Jamie…" But he left.

Jamie was trembling, but Sorcha could not tell whether it was fear or adrenaline. She turned to Sorcha, eyes wide open, "Who did this to Jim? What did they do to my baby?"

Sorcha shook her head, "Mrs Moriarty, it's more appropriate if Jim tells you. But please, don't… he looks bad. He really does. Just… be prepared. I'll better leave now."

"Your parents must be waiting. I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for Jim. All of it… I'm sorry to bother you, but, could you bring me a coffee?"

"Of course. No, it's on me." She said when Jamie took out her wallet.

"No, please, you have done enough. Here…" She handed a 5 pound note to her.

But Sorcha's look was focused on the picture in the wallet, "Is that Jim's father?"

"Yes…" Jamie looked at the picture and started smiling immediately. "The only picture I have of him. I had to hide it from Marlon. Even Jim doesn't know I still have it." She took the picture out and handed it to Sorcha.

Even without hair, it was unreal how much Jim looked like his father. Sorcha whispered, "They could be twins."

"Yes, indeed." Jamie was still smiling, although it was a weak smile. "Jim is actually a handsome boy. Of course Marlon had to ruin it… I can't believe I let all of this happen to him. And he was brave, so brave. Never uttered a word of complaint. Always trying to protect me, even at the cost of his health. Like his father. Did Jim ever tell you how Sean and I met?" Sorcha shook her head. "Well, maybe some other time. I'm sure you want to head home…"

Sorcha actually had to get home. But she knew that it would still be some time before the doctor could see Jim's mother, and if she could distract her until then… The waiting was the worst. So she shook her head and said, "My parents are at the theatre, watching Hamlet and probably having a glass of wine at some pub later. I would be alone at home. And I would love to hear more about Jim's family."

It was close to 11 P.M. when the doctor finally came, "Mrs Moriarty?"

Jamie got up, "That's me. My son…"

"He will be okay, Mrs Moriarty. He took a severe beating, but his Guardian Angel worked some over-time tonight. No internal injuries." He scratched his head, "He has a concussion, so he needs rest. He lost a molar, his nose is broken, as are the fingers on his left hand. Some cracked ribs. It's a miracle nothing else happened. We will keep him here for tonight, and tomorrow, we will perform the surgery. I am positive he will fully recover. At least physically…"

"What do you mean?" Jamie's voice was steady. She had gotten so used to violence.

"He won't talk. But he smelled of urine when he got here. I…" he seemed to weigh his words, "I believe that the beating wasn't the only thing he had to take tonight."

Jamie nodded, "I understand. He will talk to me."

"I hope. Things like these… well, you may see him now. But remember, he needs rest. Good-bye, Mrs Moriarty." He gave her a last smile and left.

Jamie turned to Sorcha, "I have kept you here long enough, Sorcha. It's time you go home." She reached into her purse, "Please, take this money and hail a cab. I don't want you to walk home alone."

Sorcha wanted to refuse at first, but then she took the money, "Thank you. Don't worry about me."

"You have been a great help tonight. I would have gone insane with the waiting…" She smiled a bit, "I am glad Jim has friends like you. I feared he would be all alone. You're a good girl."

Sorcha blushed, "That means a lot to me. Tell him to get better soon. Good night."

"Good night, Sorcha."