I don't consider my story AU, but the storyline does differ from the actual timeline so take that however you will.
Chapter Ten
"In this world there's real and make believe, and this seems real to me."
"No!" Tom roared as Emma slumped from the chair.
He caught her head before it hit the ground, but the damage was done. Crimson blood flowed from her chest and onto his blue suit. It gushed onto the floor, slowly seeping further and further away. He cradled her head in his hands.
"T-Tom," she gasped.
"I'm here," he assured her.
His face was tense, his features tight. "What have you done!?" he shouted.
"Don't be so dramatic, Inspector." Augustina licked her lips and turned the gun on him.
He stood, Emma's blood dripping from his hands.
"She needs a doctor! Now! Don't do this, please! She's innocent."
Augustina shook her head slowly. "You're very gallant, but I'm afraid your charm has worn off."
Then unexpectedly, Sergeant Goodfellow burst through the door in the kitchen. For one split second both Tom and Augustina's eyes were drawn to his presence before Tom lunged at her, and they struggled for the gun. It went off twice, but Tom managed to shove her hard knocking the gun out of her hand. They both saw and scrambled for the gun, but Tom was quicker. He dove for the gun.
He was panting as he expertly manuevered the weapon. He rolled over onto his side toward her.
"Don't move," he warned her.
She took another step.
"Stop!"
She charged toward him, and he had no choice. He squeezed the trigger and fired once. He watched as her body dropped instantly to the floor beside him. He exhaled hard and rolled away from her. He scrambled on his knees over to Emma.
Emma's hands rested weakly on top of her wound.
"Bring the car!" Tom shouted to Goodfellow who was kneeling beside her.
The sergeant sped out the door.
"I'm cold," her words came out on a stutter. She was shaking. Her skin fading to gray.
"Hold on, love."
Tom picked her up in his arms and carried her out the front door just as Goodfellow screeched to a stop in front of the house. He helped Tom slide her into the back seat with her head on his lap. They sped away to the hospital.
For the rest of his life he would never forget staring down into those emerald eyes. The ride seemed like it took hours. Tom had seen men with lesser wounds die in combat. He gripped her hand and told her everything was fine, but deep down...he knew there was a good chance he would lose her.
They arrived at the hospital and Goodfellow laid on the horn. The trauma team took her away, leaving Goodfellow and Sullivan standing alone. Tom felt like he might collapse. He grabbed Goodfellow's shoulder as his knees buckled.
"Sir!" Goodfellow's tone conveyed his concern.
"I'm fine, Sergeant." Sullivan muttered.
"Sir,"
"I said I'm fine!" Tom shouted.
"Sir, I think you've been hit," Goodfellow said frantically.
Tom suddenly saw stars. He felt Goodfellow's firm grip on his arm, but then...nothing.
Emma opened her eyes to a bright white room. Her eyelids felt so heavy, like she'd been sleeping for years. Then, it started coming back piece by piece. The woman, her questions about Tom, the gun. It hurt to breathe, to move. She managed to get the attention of a nurse by kicking her foot back and forth.
"Oh my! Mrs. Kennedy you're awake!" the nurse said.
She turned on her heel and sprinted from the room. She returned a moment later trailing a doctor.
"Mrs. Kennedy, you gave us quite a scare. I'm so glad you're awake. How are you feeling?" the doctor leaned down and checked her eyes and her pulse.
Emma's mouth felt dry. "T-Tom?" she questioned.
Hey eyes scanned what she could see of the room and found he wasn't there. Suddenly, she felt as if she couldn't breathe. She felt a burning heaviness in her chest.
"Settle yourself, Mrs. Kennedy," the doctor told her.
"Emma," she choked out, "My name is Emma."
Then, the pain was overwhelming. Before she knew it her arm had a cold sensation and her eyes grew heavy. She didn't feel as if the pain subsided at all, but when she woke up it was all dark outside. Once again she rolled her head from side to side searching for him, but she didn't have to search long.
From out of the darkness into the light of her bedside lamp he emerged. His arm was in a sling and he wasn't wearing his vest or jacket. He looked nothing like the Inspector Sullivan she was accustomed to seeing. She knew at once, as the relief washed over her that she loved him.
"Thank God," she whispered hoarsely.
Tom put a straw to her lips. She drank down cold water like she'd been living in the desert.
"Easy," he warned her.
"What happened?" she asked.
He sat himself in the chair beside her bed, and held her hand.
"It seems our guest was a murderer."
Emma nodded. She remembered that much. He saw the concern in her eyes at his arm.
"Shoulder wound. It went clean through. I'm fine,"
He smoothed his hand over her pale cheek.
"And me?" she questioned.
"You were shot in the chest, very near your heart." he sighed, "It's a miracle you're still here," he muttered to himself.
He had a far away look in his eyes. It scared her. He looked like a man whose whole belief system had been shattered.
"Tom?" she whispered.
He turned his attention back to her.
"Is she...dead?"
Emma wasn't sure what answer she would have preferred, but she was certain that it wasn't what he told her.
"I don't think so,"
Emma was getting tired. Too tired to speak so she waited for him to go on.
"When the police got there after we left she was gone,"
Emma's pulse quickened. She looked panicked so Tom reached out and took her hand.
"It's all right. She won't get very far. I wounded her. There's no way she could survive that. The doctor's told me I could stay until you woke up, but now I have to go," he let his hand fall away, and he didn't look her in the eye as he left.
She heard his footsteps echoing all the way down the hall. She missed him, but it was worse to see his spirit so...stunned. Crushed, maybe? It could just be the trauma of the evening, or maybe the medication. She felt sick and sad, but mostly tired. Soon her eyes closed and she fell asleep.
Tom left the hospital and joined the police force in searching for their missing suspect. Goodfellow was in his ear constantly telling him to take it easy, and trying to convince him to go home and rest. It was no use and he finally told his sergeant that much.
It was past midnight, and cold. Tom's shoulder was aching so badly. He had to find her. If he didn't he would never feel safe leaving Emma alone ever again. Not to mention himself. No, Augustina Webb knew where they lived both literally and figuratively. He had to find her.
