Hah! I have the tenth chapter up!! Joy!! Um... thanks for all the great reviews. I really appreciate it. I hope you all enjoyed my last chapter, I was kinda proud of it. Well, that's it. Just read the next chapter.

Chapter Ten: Why? A.K.A Watson

Holmes's POV:

I opened my eyes and blinked back the light. I closed my eyes again and thought back to what had happened, trying to remember.

Ah, yes. I had been tortured. Then something else had happened...

I snapped up in my bed and looked around.

"Watson! Where is she?" I shrieked. Instantly a girl was by my side.

"Sherlock! She's fine, sit down," she yelled, shoving me back down onto my bed. I nodded and slipped back into my sleep.

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She stood in front of me smiling. She reached out her hand to me. I took it, and instantly her white dress turned red. Blood started to pour from her mouth. I stepped back in horror. She fell to the ground and looked up at me.

"Why?"

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"Watson!" I screamed. The girl was by my side again, along with another in a wheelchair.

"Sherlock, please, calm down! Jenny is fine, just lay back. Don't make the doctors give you more morphine. Come on, it's ok, just lie down," the girl soothed. I smacked her away and jumped up, searching for Watson.

"Watson, where are you!" I yelled again. The girl in the wheelchair grabbed onto my arm and pulled me down. The other girl had gone somewhere... I didn't care. Where was Watson?

The other girl came back. She came with a man, someone I didn't recognize. The girl stood next to me and pulled my sleeve back. The man stepped forward, and I cried out as a sharp needle pierced my skin. And then the world went black.

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I took a deep breath and came out of my drugged slumber and looked around. I was in a hospital. That wasn't surprising. I turned my head and looked over to the side of the room.

Christine, the girl who had held me down when I was drugged, was sleeping in a chair, her arm in both a cast and sling. She had a book in her lap, and her reading glasses were falling off her nose. Kline was in a wheelchair, also asleep.

I sighed heavily and closed my eyes again. I thought back to what had happened. I had been taken by Williams and Sarah. They had tortured me, and then Watson... Watson had jumped in front of me when they fired the gun.

I cleared my throat quietly, and Christine's book went flying into the air. She snapped to attention, and her glasses fell into her hand. I smiled at her.

"A bit jumpy?" I asked hoarsely. She grinned and walked over to stand by my bedside.

"Tell me you're still not delusional," Christine begged. I groaned as it all came rushing back at me.

"What did I do, exactly? I didn't hurt anybody, did I?" I asked. Christine carefully lifted her chair and put down next the bed. She leaned back in it and thought a moment.

"I got a bruise from when you hit me, and you stepped on Kline's foot, I don't think she appreciated that. But other than that, you only hurt yourself," she told me casually. I nodded.

"Watson?"

"She hasn't waken up yet. Rather, she has, but she isn't staying awake. The white coats gave her lots of medication, morphine and such. You've been out for five days. At least, we wish you had been. But no, you had to go prancing about."

"Sorry."

"No biggie. What were you dreaming about, anyway?"

"Death. Lots and lots of death." Christine nodded and turned her head toward Kline and smiled briefly. I cleared my throat again (causing Christine to jump again) and thought for a moment.

"How serious were the injuries?" I asked. Christine's hand momentarily rubbed the side of her face, then she concentrated herself on me.

"Jenny is in serious condition. She was shot in the stomach, in some part of her anatomy. I haven't been allowed to take anatomy yet, that is a question for Kline. You, of course, are bruised and battered. And very delusional. Kline has two broken wrists, a broken ankle, a concussion, a broken jaw, and numerous cuts. Her and I were discharged three days ago," Christine told me. I glared at her.

"You're omitting some of the information. What about you?" I persisted. She leaned back into her chair and shrugged.

"Nothing horribly devastating. My left arm will never be the same, my muscles in the upper arm were destroyed. Not literally, I'm an actress. Couple of broken ribs, cuts..." she trailed off, her fingers running down her face once again. I leaned forward and yanked her face towards me.

She had a long, vertical cut running down her cheek. The scab was gone, but you could still see the scar. She twisted away from me and grinned out the window.

"Battle scars. Gotta love 'em," she whispered. I smiled up at her and then refocused my attention to the task at hand.

"Williams and Sarah?" I asked. Christine whipped out of her chair and began pacing.

"Lieutenant Williams is in death row. Sarah is in jail for life, without possibility of parole," she said angrily. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"This is bad to you?" I asked softly. She laughed, and Kline woke up.

"Hey. Whatcha talking about?" she slurred. Christine smiled at her.

"Good afternoon Kline. We're discussing the sentence of Williams and Sarah," she told Kline bitterly. Kline's face froze, and slowly turned into a frown.

"Oh joy, a subject we all love," she muttered. I rubbed a hand down my face and looked over at the two angry girls.

"Could you please explain to me what is wrong?" I asked once again. Christine whirled around to face the window.

"Neither Kline or I believe in execution as a punishment. We believe that they should be thrown in jail for life, but not killed. But enough of that, Kline and I love to debate that. Would you like to see Jenny?" she said quickly. I nodded vigorously.

"Yes, yes I need to see her. Right away if it can be allowed," I answered anxiously. Kline nodded.

"Consider it done."

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Watson was pale and twitchy. I now understood how she had felt when she had visited me in the hospital those many times. I reached out and touched her hand.

"Watson? Watson, are you alive?" I whispered. By the doorway, I saw Christine and Kline slowly walk away, sensing that this was something of a private moment.

"Watson, can you hear me?" I repeated. She didn't answer, and the only sound in the room was the rather annoying heart monitor.

"Very well. Then I'm going to talk anyway. I just have a few questions for you. Why did you do that? That foolhardy act of jumping in front of me. You could have gotten yourself killed! Why would you do such a thing? Why?" I asked in the silence of the room. As was expected, she didn't answer, didn't even move. I sighed.

"Watson, think of it now. It is... illogical, not rational. You couldn't know that Christine would fall at that exact second. You couldn't be sure that you wouldn't die, so why in the Lord's name did you do it?" I argued. Watson did not answer. I closed my eyes and waited.

Watson's POV:

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

I opened my eyes carefully into the brightness of yet another hospital room. The heart monitor was beeping, and someone was trying to stifle sobs...

Wait, I thought, who the heck is crying?

I looked to my right, and to my astonishment, Holmes was sitting there. One hand was covering his face, his other, cast laden arm in his lap. He looked horrible.

"Holmes, you look terrible. And what are you crying about?" I asked irritably. His head snapped up and he jumped from his chair. After staring at me for a minute, he moved towards my bed, bent his head towards me, and kissed me. After he had finished, I felt my lips twitch into a smile.

"Ok, what was that about? And you never did answer my question," I reminded him. Holmes smiled at me.

"You can be such a git sometimes, you know that, yes?" he asked. I rolled my eyes.

"That is twice that you have avoided my questions. And no, I'm never a git," I teased. Holmes collapsed back into his seat.

"First of all, I wasn't crying. I was sobbing. There is a difference, if somewhat slight. When you cry, you have water running down your face. Sobbing is a release of emotions that aren't in tears. It is more like shuddery gasps. Second, I kissed you because I'm happy you're alive," he said indifferently. I frowned.

"You can be such a dictionary at times. Crying, sobbing, same dif. And didn't Kline tell you I was alive? Don't tell me she played a prank and said I was in a coma. She does that sometimes," I scolded. I heard a gasp of astonishment from the door.

"I DO NOT!" came that familiar, if irritating voice. Then I heard someone else with a recognizable quickly shush her. Holmes rolled his eyes.

"You two may come in. Am I to assume you watched me kiss her?" he asked. Kline came in, pushed by Christine. They were both smiling sheepishly.

"Well, yeah, but it was her idea!" Kline accused. Christine gasped.

"Traitor! Er, that is to say, you would be if I had such a horrible idea," Christine recovered. Kline rolled her eyes.

"Excuse me, I'm not the hopeless romantic. That is your area of expertise. You said 'They'll kiss, it's bound to be cute, let's go see'! I wouldn't do something so cruel to a friend," Kline protested. Christine coughed in an attempt to stifle a laugh.

"What about poor Rachel? When she had a boyfriend? You watched them make out for an hour before making your presence known?" Christine counter attacked.

Holmes and I laughed and shook our heads as the two friends dueled it out. The final winner was Christine, who made a mention of some interesting blackmail pictures from her thirteenth birthday party.

After they had finished, they left Holmes and I alone again. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I finally got the courage to talk.

"You were really worried, huh?" I questioned. Holmes laughed.

"Christine should of told you. I was panicking about you in my dreams, and when I woke up I was so bent on seeing you I hurt them. Of course I was worried. Don't be utterly foolish. I would hate to-to see you get killed," Holmes finished softly. I smiled at him, and beckoned him to come near to me.

He approached me carefully and sat at the edge of my bed. I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him on the cheek.

"You're sweet, ya know?" I whispered into his ear. He kissed me hard on the lips.

"I can be."

Well, that was chapter ten. My mom grounded me from the computer, so I'm sorry you didn't get this chapter for a while. The next chapter is called Departure. I think you can figure out what it is about. Oh, and tell me now if you hate Kline and Christine. Cause if you don't tell me, they're in the next story, whether you like it or not! And it's poll time! Who do you like more, Kline or Christine. Please tell me in your review.