Chapter 21 - Cornered
Sherlock dodged bullets diving behind some bushes and ultimately hiding behind a park bench. John pulled Mary behind him as he rushed into a small stone shed. He closed the wooden door finding that it had no inside bolt and peered out through an unglazed window. A bullet flew past his ear sending chips flying. He ducked down.
Mary sat on the floor staring at him, "John." she said, "I need to talk with you."
John cautiously bent his head forward, ducking suddenly as another bullet came in through the window. "Now is not a good time, Mary," he said. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Mary was standing behind him. He rushed over and pulled her to the ground. "Careful!" He said,"This is life or death."
"I don't care," she said, "I need you to listen to me. This is more important to me than getting shot."
John glanced at the window and back at Mary who stared at him with eyes full of intensity, eyes edged with tears. John knelt down beside her holding her hands. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I need to apologize," She said.
"No you don't, Mary. Not to me, and it's certainly not life or death."
"But it is. I made you a promise, before we got married. A promise to let you remain the way that you are, and I broke it. The night before you left, I acted like the stereotypical jealous wife. I was angry and nasty and I am ashamed of myself."
"Mary, we can talk about this later."
"No we can't, because I hurt you, and you pulled away from me. You're still pulling away from me."
John flinched as stone chips flew off of the wall over their heads. He gave Mary a kiss on the cheek and said, "I forgive you. Now can you squat a little further into that corner?"
Mary moved over like he asked. John squatted behind the door holding a rake, the only weapon that he could find in the mostly empty shed. Mary sat behind him. She put her head on his shoulder. He leaned forward shifting his weight, but she held on. He turned his head when he felt warm tears soaking into his shirt.
"Mary, what's wrong? Are you afraid?" He asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Don't worry," John asserted, "Sherlock is sure to be getting close now. We'll get out of this safely."
"I'm not afraid of the gunman. I trust that you know how to take care of yourself," Mary began, "I'm afraid of what will happen when Sherlock does get here. I'm afraid that you will leave me."
John dropped the rake and turned to her. She wrapped her arms around his chest hugging him tightly. "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me," she whispered into his chest.
"Mary," John said, "I'm right here."
"I know that you don't love me. I can live with that. But I don't want to live alone, not again. I can't start over with someone new, it's too painful."
John took her tear-strewn face in his hands. "Now Mary," He said, "of course, I love you." and he kissed her. Mary twined herself around John pulling him deeper in the kiss. Covering his eyes with her hair so that he did not see the door quietly open. He did not notice the stealthy footsteps of the man who entered and turned to stare at him.
The man wearing the long coat and scarf who stared down watching the man that he loved, the man whom he had been chasing for days, passionately kissing his wife.