The Woman Named I

by theselectedfew

"It couldn't hurt that much, could it? Dying? Surely getting shot through the head would be a quick and easy way to go. Hopefully." Sherlock and Watson didn't know what they were getting into until it was too late. Watch as they get put in life threatening situations and what they do to solve the case! Note: Only rated T for mild peril. There is no language or adult themes.

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Please, you have to help me. They will kill me. Help. Please!" She tried to pull herself into the back of the truck, but a policeman grabbed her and yanked her back.

"Please! They will kill me before I can tell you anything! Help me! They will kill me!" She had lost the small amount of composure that she had left, sobbing and frantically trying to reach the truck. Sherlock was in some sort of stunned silence, so I asked the obvious question.

"What are you talking about? Who is going to kill you?" I was so confused, and I needed Sherlock, but he was unresponsive.

"My captors! The same as yours! They used me, and now that I am of no use to them, I will die. Please, John! Don't let this happen." She elbowed the policeman in the face, and he brought his hands up to his face. She tore away from him and ran to the truck once more. She grabbed me, getting right up close to my face.

"Jacob Bu..." A shot rang out in the distance, and Irene's chest was suddenly stained red. She gasped, grasping her chest and falling backward out of the truck. I grabbed her with both hands, just barely keeping her from going sprawling in the dirt. Sherlock finally snapped out of his stupor and helped me bring her back into the truck. We set her down on the floor, and Sherlock unwrapped his scarf from his neck, pressing it on her chest.

The policeman who was holding her jumped into the back of the truck still holding his face, shouting behind him. Another policeman shut the door to the truck, and we started moving.

"Why did you shoot her?!" I shouted, furious. She could have cracked this case wide open, but now here she was, dying.

"I didn't do this!" He shouted back, looking at me. I had no clue what to do. This whole chain of events had been bizarre, and I just wanted to solve this. I grabbed her, making her face me.

"Look," I said, trying to keep her alive, "you can do this. We need you. You have to help us if you want whoever did this to come to justice." I held her head off the ground, frantic. She wasn't going to make it. I knew it. I had had too much experience with wounds to not see that this wound would be fatal.

She turned her head towards Sherlock. He had been sitting there, staring at her. She grabbed his collar, making him bend over so she could whisper something in his ear. He took a sharp intake of breath, and when he pulled away, she leaned forward and kissed him. She took hold of the back of his neck and pulled him closer, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back slowly, speaking just loud enough that I could hear. It was only three words, crisp and clear.

As she leaned away from him, she said, "I love you."