Chapter 15

I saw them drag Sherrelyn's limp body into a car, but considering the fact that I was shot, I was of no use to help her. The car drove off, leaving me a bloody mess outside. I felt myself slipping away from consciousness. I heard a door open, and two sets of feet running towards me. "Get me an ambulance, Mrs Hudson!" I heard someone call out. "Hang in there." The man was short, with salt and pepper hair. I've seen him before...John Watson, yes, my brother's flatmate. "I'm a doctor, and help will come soon, just hang in there."

His face was all I saw until I slipped into unconsciousness.

I woke up on a room too bright to be my own. The IV tubes proved me right. I was in a hospital. I found my clothes folded neatly on the bedside table. With a sudden realization, the reality of my situation crashed all around me. Sherry was taken away from me, under my watch! I was reminded of that conversation I had with Sherlock not long ago...

It was a rainy day, and I had got back from a dangerous mission to assassinate a known corrupt politician. I was eating in a small cafe, not noticeable for those who wouldn't want to see it. Someone slid into the chair opposite me, who is none other than my brother Sherlock. "Back from the dead, I see." Sherlock remarked.

"Well, a little hello would suffice." I replied.

"I aim to be better than suffice." Sherlock said. "But that is not what I ask of you."

"Of course, yes, what is it?"

"I've heard that I was to die soon, by the hands of myself, in the presence of Jim Moriarty." I nodded. "Of course, my days in this life is not over yet. I intend to live a quiet but eventful life until a ripe old age. And I wouldn't let a psychopath stop that from happening."

"Your point?"

"I'd like you to help me preserve my life and appear to be dead in the public eye." Sherlock stated. "You''re obviously an expert." He said dryly.

"That I am. What do you need?" He proceeded to tell me all his requirements. I knew I would lose Jim's trust if I was ever known to aid Sherlock in faking his death, or worse, he'd kill me and turn me into shoes. But I was willing to help, because after all our differences, he's still my brother.

When he got up to leave, I was also done with my food. He proceeded a few steps before turning to look at me. "One more thing, Sherrinford."

"Hm?"

"Take care of Sherrelyn when I'm gone, alright?" I was taken aback by his request. I knew Sherry and him were close when they were younger, but I didn't know he'd still be a protective brother after all this time. And in that moment, I knew, that there were only a few people Sherlock truly cared about. And Sherrelyn was one of them, even if she betrayed him.

"Of course." I said. He nodded curtly, and turned swiftly. He hurried away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I hurriedly dressed in my clothes and sneaked out from the hospital room. No one questioned my wandering around the hospital. I saw from a board that I was admitted into St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where one of my friends worked. Her name's Molly Hooper, and she's quite alright, once you get past her shyness. Anyway, we met when I was injured a few years ago, and she was tending to my wounds. She was a really kind girl, and she's pleasant. It wouldn't hurt to meet her for a few minutes. And she might have some kind of information on Sherlock, who I'm sure would know about Sherry's abduction by now, what with his Homeless Network.

I made my way to her lab, which I remembered as if I was here yesterday. I weaved my way through the long white corridors of the hospital, finally arriving at the door of Molly's office. I knocked on the door and entered when I heard the familiar, small voice of Molly Hooper.

"Hi." I said as I entered. She had her back to me and turned around swiftly, anger in her eyes. She walked over to me and gave me a sharp slap across my face. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She gushed. I like that about her. Apologizing after doing something I totally deserved. She slapped me again. "Four years, Thomas! Four years!" I lied to her about my name.

"I know, I'm sorry, I should've said, or called or something." I apologized sincerely.

"Why, Thomas. Why didn't you?" She asked me quietly, hurt evident in her eyes, and the way she spoke.

"I'm sorry..." I felt tears pricking in my eyes. No, I will not cry. "I just...I couldn't. I'm sorry, Molly."

"I waited for you for two years."

"And then you moved on."

"He was a psychopath!" Molly yelled, which was rare of her. She'd never raise her voice at anyone. I hung my head low, knowing that I've hurt her. It hurts me to see her hurt. And yet I'm powerless to stop it.

"I'm sorry. Molly, please, can we fix this? I sound like a beggar, but I love you." There. I said it. Are you satisfied? She stared at me with an awed expression, unsure of what to say.

"I..." was all she could get out.

"I promise, I would never lie to you ever again. I'll be honest, I'll be truthful, I will never leave you ever again." I pleaded. "I love you, and I don't ever want to hurt you." I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. And hope.

Just as she was about to speak, Sherlock burst into the room. "YOU LET HER OUT OF YOUR SIGHT!" He yelled at me. Molly flinched when he yelled.

"I WAS SHOT!" I yelled back.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"

"She's pregnant. I wanted to help her. I didn't want to fuck up anyone else's life." I lowered my voice.

"Who's 'she'?" Molly asked.

Sherlock gave Molly a glance, a knowing glance at me and said, "She's my sister." He glanced at me. Don't you dare! "And also Sherrinford's." He nodded to me. He smirked and left me alone with Molly.

"Sherrinford?" She repeated, not looking at me. Thanks a lot, Sherlock. "You're Sherlock's brother?" She lifted her head to look at me directly. I saw hurt, rage, disappointment and hate in her eyes. "You lied to me about your own name."

"I'm sorry, Molly."

She shook her head. "You broke that promise in less than 5 minutes."

"Molly, please, I'm so-"

"Get out." She said in a whisper. "Get out, please." She said a little louder this time. She was avoiding my eyes.

"Mol-"

"Get out or I will call security on you."

"M-"

"Out!" She yelled at me, and broke into sobs. "Please, just get out, now." She whispered, her voice shaky. I can't stand seeing her upset. I went over to her and touched her shoulder. She flinched away.

"I'm sorry, Molly. Forgive me, please." I said quietly before leaving her crying in her office.

I was walking up to Jim's house when the door was thrown open and Jim himself came out. He stalked over to me, grabbed the front of my shirt and slammed me into the wall. "What the fuck?!" I cried out as a sharp pain exploded from my shoulder.

"You let her get kidnapped!" Jim shouted at me.

"Again, let me explain this, I WAS SHOT! What did you want me to do? Try to defeat two buff men with a gunshot wound?!"

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER!" Jim slammed his palm against the wall, two inches from my head.

"At least I didn't fuck up her life twice!" I retorted, and immediately regretted it.

"Pack your shit up in five minutes and get the fuck out of my house, or I will skin you and turn you into shoes." Jim said in a dangerously, dark and low tone. Shit. I'm fucked up.

"Well, there goes your chance to get a mini Moriarty." I snapped. I shoved him away and was about to enter the house when Jim punched me right at the wound, which was still healing. I grunted in pain as it felt like a thousand daggers stabbing you all at once. I doubled over, trying not to show him that he's won. To add more pain, he kicked me once, then twice.

"Son of a bitch." I swore, and kicked my leg under his, so that he'd topple over. I heard the sickening crunch of bones breaking as he slammed into the hard floor. Jesus, that was a real accident. I got up and hobbled over to my car. Now that I've been kicked out of the one place that actually welcomed me, I had nowhere to go. Unless...

I rang the doorbell to Molly's small flat. I heard the sound of her small footsteps padding towards the door. She opened the door, and I was about to speak when she slammed it in my face. I shut my eyes, trying to not feel hurt. "Molly, please." I said. I knew she was leaning against the door, trying to not let me in. "Molly, help me, please."

"I'm sorry, Thomas. Or was it Sherrinford?" She said, her voice shaky.

"Molly..."

"You liar. You dirty, little liar." I could tell she was trembling. Her whole body trembles when she tries to control her anger.

"Molly, I'm sorry, please forgive me?" I pleaded. I was aware that my wound was opened again, and blood was staining my grey shirt. It was quiet on the other end. "Molly?" I asked quietly. I knew I was going to die if I was out here for another minute. Too much blood loss. I was starting to feel faint.

I heard the click of the door opening, and I stood back to let her open it. She rushed into my arms, and I tried to not wince too much. "Oh my god." She noticed.

"I got kicked out, and I've no place to stay." I said weakly.

"You're bleeding!"

"It was worth it, I suppose." I said as she led me inside her house, her hand in mine.

She kissed me once, and said, "Let me fix you up." So yes, it was worth it.