Disclaimer: Technically I'm not sure if this counts as a disclaimer or not but the murderer that I reference in the second section of this chapter was a real murderer in 1881, I have altered the details of the time it took to catch him to suit the fic's purposes and the timeline I'm using but other than that any facts that I've included are true facts found on .
Warning: Violent(ish) imagery, more gory descriptions of bodies/ injuries and a shit load of emotion that has had me in tears as I've been writing this. I hope you're all prepared!
~.~.~.~.~.~
Although Jenny knew that Vastra's job was easier to do under the cover of night the girl often spent her time while her mistress was out working worrying about all of the things that could happen to her. She was well aware that Vastra could take care of herself but the streets of London were dangerous, especially in the dark, and Jenny feared that even a trained Silurian warrior may have troubles defending herself at times. When she had first moved to work for Vastra Jenny had tried to distract herself with tasks such as improving her reading or attempting to teach herself to write but as time went on it seemed that even these distractions lost their effectiveness and more often than not Jenny would find her mind wondering to the Silurian out there alone on the dangerous streets of London. However, one particular night a few months after the two women had physically consummated their relationship the maid seemed to be finding it even harder than usual to distract herself from the terrible thoughts of what could happen to Vastra out there in the dark, trailing and attacking dangerous criminals without anyone to help her.
As always Jenny was curled up by the sitting room window at the front of the house, the book in her lap practically forgotten about as she stared out at the street for any sign that her love may be returning from a hard night's work. It was often difficult to determine when her mistress would return as on several occasions Vastra had been waylaid on her way home from a job (saving someone or another usually) and when she finally did find her way through the front door she would not have had the time to so much as remove her hood before Jenny had thrown herself into her arms, berating her for being late and the worry she had caused the girl while holding her so tightly that the Silurian feared she may collapse from the inability to catch her own breath. Despite this, however, the maid had come to know that Vastra would always have returned by two in the morning, no matter what other distractions she may have faced on the journey home.
Jenny had been checking the clock every five minutes or so for the past hour and each time she did so the time seemed to drag along more and more slowly. As she checked the time yet again she saw that the clock read ten past one. There was no need for her to panic, Vastra rarely re-entered the house until at least half past, but still something was unsettling the girl. Something didn't feel right. Despite her worrying there was usually a voice in the back of Jenny's head telling her how ridiculous she was being and how Vastra was perfectly capable of fighting any human who saw fit to go against her. So far though, that evening the voice had been eerily quiet and Jenny was finding it hard to ignore her fears. She kept picturing the most awful things in her mind, things that made her want to burst into tears at the mere thought of them. She pictured Vastra being overpowered by a group of men with knives and guns, Vastra being attacked from behind when she wasn't expecting it, Vastra thinking she had killed her victim only to find that the whole thing was a set up and that she had actually become the cause of her own death. The most gruesome image that seemed to recur in her mind however was one that made Jenny physically retch with the effort to hold back tears. In her mind Vastra's body had been thrown into the gutter in a similar way to how she had found Lucy's body. Her arms were not tied behind her back as Lucy's had been but chained with old, thick, rusting chains that clenched hard around her scaled wrists. The scales on her wrists seemed to have disappeared, apparently ripped off in the Silurian's struggle to free herself from her confines, and only the sensitive pale green flesh that lay under her scales remained. There was blood everywhere, pooling around her mistress' lifeless limbs, staining her perfect emerald scales a grim shade of brown, matting over their shimmering surface in a thick layer. The imaginary Vastra had claw marks down one side of her face and her right eye had swollen to the point that even if her eyes had had sight she would not have been able to see more than a blur through it. The final part of the image was the part that scared Jenny the most though. The image of Vastra had her own katana protruding from her stomach (the source of all of the blood) and the sheer possibility of Vastra losing her own weapon and being killed with it nearly sent Jenny into hysterics.
For the first time since she had sat to watch out for Vastra Jenny closed her eyes tightly, trying so desperately to shut out the thoughts and the images each of which were breaking her heart more and more. She tried to convince herself that she was worrying too much, and that realistically there was no reason for her to think Vastra would have been hurt or killed but her heart did not want to release its fears. Why? Why was she so scared that night when every other night she would only begin to worry as the night got later. Vastra had never been badly hurt before, so there was no reason for Jenny to think she may have been. She was desperate to believe that her mind was fooling her, that she was just tired and it was making her irrational. But as she sat there, her eyes closed tightly and her fingers clutching the book in her lap as though it was the only thing standing between her and death, she heard a faint knock on the front door.
~.~.~.~.~.~
Vastra pressed her body flat against the brick wall, hiding herself in the shadows as best she could as her eyes trailed across the street before her. Her cloak was pulled tightly around her, both to conceal her appearance and to protect her from the slight chill that still remained in the London air as winter was slowly beginning to slip away and spring crept in to take its place. Her task that night was simple, to apprehend and, if needs be, kill Dr. George Henry Lamson. Personally she would much prefer the latter task, however Scotland Yard had been very clear - Dr Lamson had only killed one man, and it had purely been for monetary benefit, they wanted him locked away, not dead.
The case of Dr Lamson sickened Vastra to her stomach. The man was a morphine addict and when he had found himself low on funds he had chosen to kill his eighteen year old, handicapped, brother-in-law as a way of bringing his family estate funds into his domestic control. It was bad enough that the pathetic excuse for a man had turned against a family member, so young and helpless, but what made it worse for Vastra was the method. Dr Lamson had poisoned the boy. Obviously she was glad that there had been no physical wound or anything too gruesome or torturous for the victim to endure, but in her eyes only a coward would use poison. Someone who was so afraid of getting caught that they couldn't even let their victim know who had taken their life. At least murderers who used guns or knives had enough self respect to own up to their crimes, 'The Slight-of-Hand Poisoner' as Scotland Yard had referred to Lamson in the notes they had given her didn't even have the nerve to admit to the wrong he had done.
Vastra had been tailing Lamson for around two months, getting her bearings on his routine, how he concealed himself, the people he spoke to and the places he went to. Realistically she should have had the case closed within a few weeks, and she would have done had it not been for the man's skill in slipping under her nose just as she was about to strike. The past two times she had attempted to imprison him he had found some way out of it and Vastra couldn't figure out for the life of her how he was doing it. This night though things were different. She had been very careful to avoid her target for a few days, only checking in to ensure he hadn't decided to run off somewhere. The way she saw it, often human's could subconsciously tell when they were being watched and followed so the Silurian had opted to lull Lamson into a false sense of security. He wouldn't be expecting her to be waiting there that night.
Vastra knew that Lamson liked his routines, and it was very rare that he did not stick to them. Hence, Vastra found herself hidden in the shadows waiting for her target to exit the den of criminals where he would get his fix of morphine that night. However, she was surprised to find that as she waited she saw Lamson walking towards the den as opposed to away from it as she had expected. He seemed nervous and as he walked she could see him twitching. Every few steps the man would have to stop, a look of pure agony on his face that Vastra only caught sight of as he clutched a nearby lamp post to steady himself as pain seemed to shoot through every part of his body. She supposed this must have been what happened when addicts went without the drug that they craved for too long.
Sensing his weakness the Silurian decided that waiting for Lamson to get his fix would not be of any benefit to her and so she began to move swiftly and silently through the darkness. Vastra made sure to keep to the shadows, knowing all too well that darkness was a friend to those who knew how to use it. As she neared the man still clutching the post she allowed a low hiss to reverberate through the air, making sure that she was well hidden so that Lamson (his nerves still heightened) looked up abruptly, trying to find the source of the unearthly sound.
"W...who's t...there...?" he stuttered, clinging onto the lamp post even more tightly as though he believed he could lift it and use it as a weapon should he find himself in danger. Carefully Vastra shifted to the other side of the road, just behind the Lamson and the lamp post. She was visible now but he still hadn't spotted her. As she stood there he was slowly backing away from the darkness before him, seemingly unaware that he was backing directly into the hold of the woman sent to arrest him. It wasn't until Vastra grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him into the darkness that Dr. Lamson even realised she was there. As her strong arms dragged him down a darkened alley way a short way from the lamp post he attempted to shout, to break free, really to do anything he could to get away from his captor. He was writhing and wriggling, still twitching every now and again and she had to throw him against the wall before he went limp and stopped fighting, just lay sprawled on the floor, twitching repeatedly.
"Dr. Lamson," she hissed softly at the scared eyes staring up at her "I really must commend you on your ability to avoid arrest for so long, not many are capable of escaping me if I have my mind set on their capture, however you have done very well in that respect. Until just now, that is." She was about to reach for the rope she had stowed away to assist in her target's capture when suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her side. She didn't flinch, didn't make a sound, but she knew she had let her guard down too easily. She could feel the metal of a blade in her side. She could feel her blood beginning to spill out onto the filthy London streets. Fear sprang into her mind and in a moment all thoughts of her job and capturing Dr Lamson disappeared. All she wanted was to get out. In the same instant as she felt the blade slide out from her side Vastra span and clawed at her attacker, feeling her claws catch some sort of flesh, before she fled.
Her cloak billowed around her as she ran and all Vastra could think of was home. Jenny. Safety and warmth. How could she have been so stupid? She had forgotten to check around herself before pulling Lamson down that alley. One of the criminals from the den must have seen her grab him. They must have known him or been a friend of his, and on seeing him dragged away they must have immediately followed, seeing their best option in attacking when she wasn't prepared. She dared not stop running, feeling the blood pouring down her side she knew it would only be a matter of time before she was too weak to carry on and she had to get home before that or... No. She wouldn't think like that. She wouldn't stop until she reached her own front door, not even if that meant dragging herself along the floor until she got there.
~.~.~.~.~.~
Jenny had run to the door faster than she had ever thought she was capable of moving and as soon as she opened it she knew something was wrong. Vastra was holding herself up against the doorframe with all of her weight pressed into the wood. Her hood was dangerously close to falling off and revealing her scaled and crested head to any human who walked past and Jenny could see that she was even having difficulty keeping her eyes open.
"Ma'am?" The second she saw the state Vastra was in Jenny's heart began to race and she immediately slipped out of the house to support her across the threshold. Helping her mistress up the stairs to her bedroom was no easy fete and, although it took a lot more effort on her part than she had expected (Vastra was seriously having trouble standing up without support), the maid eventually managed to get Vastra onto her bed. It wasn't until Vastra was laid out on her bed and Jenny had lit the candles and removed her mistress' cloak that she realised what had happened. The whole right side of the Silurian's cloak and battle suit were drenched in blood, Jenny could barely believe Vastra was still standing with the amount she seemed to have lost. Trying to stem the blood as best she could Jenny took off her apron and pressed it to the wound she'd managed to locate just above Vastra's hip. It wasn't too deep, thank god, but still the woman had lost far too much blood for her liking and Jenny packed her apron into the wound as tightly as she could to stop any further blood loss as much as she could.
"Vastra?" The Silurian looked at Jenny with dazed eyes at the sound of her name. She didn't entirely seem to understand what was going on, the maid wasn't even sure if Vastra realised where she was or how she had got there. "Vastra, darlin', I need you to 'old this in place for me." Jenny took one of her hands and pressed it to the apron, trying to persuade her mistress to use any strength she could to stem the bleeding. "Please, Vastra you 'ave to 'old it there tight. I'll only be a minute, I promise, just don't let go or loosen your grip. Promise me." compliant as a young child the woman merely nodded, holding the apron as tightly as her strength would allow until a few minutes later Jenny returned with a small box and a bowl of boiling water in her hands.
Jenny could tell that Vastra wouldn't be able to stay awake for much longer. It seemed as though there was no energy or life left in her at all and the maid had to fight back tears as she watched her poor, darling Vastra looking so helpless and weak. It was breaking her heart with every second that passed.
Quickly forcing herself to focus Jenny took a pair of scissors from her sewing box and cut through Vastra's battle suit, pulling the blood stained garment away until she could see the injury properly. For a moment the image of Vastra's corpse that had plagued her only ten minutes previously sprang back to life at the sight of the blood matted scales and Jenny had to force the thought to the back of her mind. She had to focus. Vastra needed her. She cleaned the wound quickly and with precision that a war nurse would be proud of in the circumstances but then Jenny froze. It had never occurred to her before but she had no idea how best to approach a stab wound when scales were involved. She knew that for a human one would just sew and bandage the wound, but could you sew up a wound with scales in the way? Surely not.
"Vastra... your wound... the scales... I don't know how to..." It was no use. Vastra was barely acknowledging her attempts at communication, her mind too fogged to hear much at all. The Silurian's head had lolled to the side on the pillows and her eyes were drifting closed ever so slowly. Jenny didn't want to panic, she knew that would be no help to either of them, but what was she supposed to do? Deciding she would rather not do more damage to her poor love than had already been done Jenny bandaged Vastra's wound tightly, praying that it would be enough to stop the bleeding, then proceeded to clean up all of the mess.
~.~.~.~.~.~
She couldn't sleep. She was too scared to. The images of everything that had just passed kept flicking through her mind. So much blood, and Vastra so helpless. When she finally allowed herself to sit down on the bed beside her mistress, her love, Jenny's mind was buzzing with every heart breaking thing she had just encountered. For a second as she sat there she felt empty, then all at once every painful or negative emotion a human could possibly feel seemed to engulf her and she burst into tears. As Jenny cried and cried the girl lifted Vastra's hand to her heart and held it there. If she could have given the Silurian every ounce of life in her little body she would have done it. Jenny would have given anything for this not to be happening. What was she supposed to do if she lost Vastra? She had become so used to their lives together in the past few months that she wasn't sure she knew any other way of living any more. And besides, where was the point in a life where the woman she cared for - no, the woman she loved wasn't there. The tears didn't stop and Jenny lifted Vastra's hand to her lips, kissing it softly and whispering over and over. "Please god, no... she has to be okay."