Chapter 16: Unresolved

January 8, 1899

Two weeks had passed since the incident and not once had Jonathan said a single word about what had happened, an occasional glance here and there, but nothing else. For just a split second it made me wonder if perhaps James was right from the beginning, that the love spell was so potent that once it was lifted—regardless of how—the feelings he felt would vanish. At the same time, I also wondered if he did not know how to approach me with all that had happened. Everything he had learned about his former archenemy, everything he had learned about me, it was a whole lot for one individual to absorb.

Sleep was practically non-existent since that night. So many thoughts bounced around in my head, that at times, it drove me crazy. I was constantly getting headaches and because of that, it worried both Dr. Dawson and Mrs. Judson greatly. Aside from the lack of sleep, I hardly ate. Whenever I tried, I felt like I was going to be sick afterwards. At first, they wondered if I was becoming ill, but that was not the case. It was the case that for the first time in a long time, I had gone through such a traumatic experience. It even made me wonder how Jonathan ever slept at night after going through everything he has. Being shot, beaten, stabbed, poisoned, I am surprised that none of what he has been through have permanently scarred him. Then again, maybe it has and he just has the ability of not showing it.

Lying in bed, I tossed and turned. For the next few hours, I attempted to rest; but each time I thought I was about to succeed, the thoughts in my head returned. I needed to speak to him. I needed to know how he felt about all of this, how he felt about knowing the truth. For some reason, I could not let this particular thing wait until later on. Carefully getting out bed, I threw on a light blue housecoat Jonathan had lent me before grabbing hold of the crutches by my bedside. As quietly as I could, I stepped out of my room. The short hallway was dark and almost felt abandoned. Taking a deep breath, I made my way towards his room.

When I got closer, I began to feel uneasy about my rash decision. Unfortunately, my feet kept taking me in the direction my mind wanted to go. When reaching his door, I pressed my ear against it. Upon doing so, I could hear light snoring from the other end. It was good to know that one of us was getting rest. I gulped before turning the knob and walking into the darkness of the bedroom. The fire that Mrs. Judson had built earlier had died, but only a few burning embers remained.

Walking towards his sleeping form, I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. I stood still as I watched him sleep. He seemed peaceful, but there was still a trace of pain in his face. When we both had finally returned to Baker Street, we were in horrible shape, Jonathan especially. I was surprised I did not have to drag him all the way here for there were times it seemed like he was about to collapse. According to Dr. Dawson, I had suffered a head injury, a dislocated shoulder, and a twisted ankle. The detective on the other hand suffered not only a gunshot wound, but also an injured leg and a few bruised ribs. He even said that there was a huge chance that his career as a detective would more than likely end. Hearing that hurt me greatly. In other words, his career would end because of me. If I had never made that wish, I would not be here. If I were not here, Jonathan would not have had to deal with me. If he did not have to deal with me, he would not be in this bed in serious pain.

Cursing under my breath, I looked over at the small wooden clock that sat on the bedside table. Half passed five; perhaps I needed to wait until later on. Looking back at him, I felt the tightness of my stomach become worse. Guilt was eating me alive and truth be told, I deserved it. Without waking him up, I slowly began to make my way towards the door. Upon doing so, I knew I was soon about to be caught red handed when one of my crutches became entangled with something. This caused me to stumble slightly and when I landed, it was on the very same injured ankle.

"Shit," I cursed, probably loud enough for him to hear when I hissed in pain from the harsh landing. Allowing myself to calm down, I took a deep breath and continued to make my way out.

"Paula, what are you doing in here?" a groggy, but familiar voiced asked just as I was about to grab hold of the doorknob. My body tensed up as I just stood still, not really knowing if my answer would just get me into even more trouble than I assumed I was already in.

"I…I-I couldn't sleep," I answered carefully, gripping the handle tighter.

"So you decided to come in here because…?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come. I'll just leave you."

"Something is bothering you, isn't it?" That did it. Releasing my tight grip, I slowly turned towards Jonathan, who now was sitting up slightly. "Am I correct?" he asked once more.

Nodding, I answered, "Y-yes, but it isn't that important. It was highly rude of me to be in here."

"Don't go…," Jonathan begged right as I was about to head out once more. "You seem to have caught my attention. Please, sit." Seeing that he a made a little room on the bed for me, I hesitated only slightly before doing as he asked. "Do tell me what the matter is?" he asked calmly. Feeling slightly confident, I took a deep breath.

"It…it's about w-what happened…that night," I answered, fear still lingering within me as I dared not look up at the mouse lying on the bed.

"What about it?"

"Everything…But mostly I keep having thoughts about…Vole said that his body had gone missing. Do you think that-?"

"Stop," Jonathan demanded. His tone a bit louder, but still quiet to where no one else in the small flat could hear us. "His lair—much like his father's—was in the sewers, Paula. Anyone or anything could have found him by then. Some homeless human or a feline could have swept him up for a good meal." Hearing that, especially if it was a human that had found him for food, made me sick, but he ignored my expression and continued. "If that is all you are worrying about, my dear, you have no reason to be. James Ratigan is out of our lives for good."

Though his response was a bit harsh, I could still sense that he meant well in what he had said. Perhaps I should cease my worries about him. When Jonathan had checked his pulse, there was none to detect, and if James were still alive, he probably would have lunged at the detective right when he had the chance.

"Is that what you were worrying about?" Jonathan asked, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"Well, not just that…"

"So there is more that you are concerned about?"

"Y-yes…"

"Well what is it?" At this point, my fears of bringing it up almost seemed to take over me, but knowing the mouse before me, he would find some way to drag it out of me. Taking my hand, he said, "There is nothing to be afraid of, my dear. Anything else that is bothering you, I want you to be able to tell me with no fear. Do go on." For the moment, I could not even look at him, for the subject of the matter pained me. But seeing that I was not going to be let out here until it was out in the open, I gave in.

"It…it's about us," I finally admit. I could feel the painful sting of tears as I fought them back. I already felt weak bringing this up; I did not dare to let him see me cry once again, regardless of how sensitive the subject was. "With everything that has happened, I…I wondered if what you felt for me…was truly a lie, if James was right."

For a moment, he remained silent as he turned his head away from me. Just this reaction alone made me assume the possible answer I feared the entire time was indeed true. Taking a deep but ragged breath, I too looked away. Seeing that maybe it was not the best thing to bring up, I decided it was best to take my leave. Before I got my chance though, Jonathan stopped me from even getting to my feet. It was almost as if he knew what I was thinking.

"Don't," he said softly, "my apologies for not answering. I was waiting for you to bring it up, but I did not think it would be this soon."

"I can see that it's true. Just how you reacted-"

"No, what you assume is far from the truth, my dear. However, I will be honest that if it were not for him, it probably would have taken me longer to realize my feelings for you. On the other hand, sadly, I probably never would have noticed them at all."

"So he did cast a love spell on you."

"It seems that way, but what I felt and still feel for you, was not a lie. Everything I had done, everything I had said, was on my own terms; not his. Whatever spell he casted upon me was not as potent as he made you believe."

"This is what I do not understand though," I said, still feeling a bit confused, "with James dead, the spell is lifted, right?"

"I think the spell was lifted once I realized my feelings for you."

"When was that?"

He chuckled lightly. "The night I first kissed you, before that I tried to deny my feelings for I thought those emotions I once had were long gone, but it seemed as though I could not hide them."

"So when Mrs. Judson and Dr. Dawson kept making those hints-"

"They knew I had changed, and it was all because of you."

"It was not just me, Jonathan. James was the schemer behind it all."

"That may be, however, I refuse to believe that he forced me to fall in love with you, or you with me."

After hearing that, it made me wonder if James had casted a love spell on me, even after knowing my feelings for him right from the beginning. "As far as I could tell, I was not under a spell. From the very beginning, everything I felt was real. Sure, at first I was terrified because I always knew you to be fiction. In my world, sophisticated talking mice are just make-believe, nothing more. However, as days passed, I slowly began to allow what I felt and that it had made me happier than I have ever been. Then everything with James, there was a part of me that did not want to give you up, even if it meant my life. It may sound incredibly stupid, but it is the truth."

"He did not give you a choice."

"He did, but the one choice was not what I wanted. But seeing that I was desperate-"

"What was the choice?"

"He said that if I agreed to marry him that he would let you go and no harm would come to you."

"You believed him?"

"For the moment I did, but when I soon realized that he was lying through his teeth, I chose to go against him. He said that if I told you that I did not love you, the spell would go away and you would not remember anything. That was not true, if I told you that lie, it would have hurt you so you would not want to fight back."

"Well, as said, it's over now. James is gone and we can both move on."

"You make it sound so simple."

"I tell myself that everyday. I sometimes realize its true," placing a hand on mine, he continued. "It will get better, Paula. I can assure you that much. Just know that here, you are not alone."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," I told him. We both smile lovingly at one another, before the sound of the distant tolls of Big Ben caught my attention. Looking down at the clock, I soon realized that it was six in the morning. "I should go, you need to rest."

"You don't have to go," he stated, I was a bit confused until he carefully moved over, clearly making room for me. "I think it would do both of us a bit of good to have some company."

"You don't think Mrs Judson and Dr. Dawson would frown upon this. We were lucky to get away with it before, but-"

"Dawson told me about your reoccurring nightmares," he admitted. "I had them too after Ratigan's death. There were times I went for days without sleep. Therefore, I am sure, they will not mind as long as we do not make a habit out of this." Without hurting him, I got under the covers. "My, God, you're freezing. Move closer to me," he said. Doing so, he pulled me closer to him so that his body heat would help warm me up. However, when he tried to sit himself up slightly, he grunted in pain.

"Are you all right?" I asked, deeply concerned.

"I'll be all right," he tired to assure me, but I could see the agonizing pain in his eyes.

"Perhaps you should not being worrying so much about me; you're in worse condition than I am."

"Not necessarily, I'll be back on my feet in a week's time."

"If you even think about doing that, then I will strap you down to this bed myself. I understand your hatred for bed rest, believe me, I'm not fond of it myself. If you keep forcing yourself to continue your detective work when you are not completely healed, you are at risk for worse injuries and you will be at a disadvantage with whomever you are up against."

Jonathan remained silent for a moment, smiling down at me. "You are just as strict as Dawson is."

"Well, I can see why. I'm surprised you are not completely disabled. Just please, for once listen to him and let yourself rest. Vole and any other client that comes your way will not hold it against you."

Holding me close, he lightly placed a kiss on my forehead. "All right, you win. However, you must do me a favour as well."

"And that favour is…"

"From here on out, do not hide who you truly are. I do not want you to be afraid of being yourself; in fact, it was when you started to let your guard down that I began to really fall for you. So, do we have an agreement?"

"It's a deal."

"Good…" Resting my head on his chest, I could feel myself finally relax as I drifted off into a deep sleep. However, before he too would allow sleep take over him, he added in a mere whisper, "I'm sure I will come to love the real you just as much."