Part Sixteen:
"She's awake. Try not to scare her when you talk to her," I can hear the nurse tell Sherlock and John outside the hospital room I'm staying in.
"Scare her? The girl just looked at a gun straight on and told me to let her die," Sherlock says pushing toward the door.
"You're Mr. Holmes I presume?" she asks him. He nods his head in agreement, "she asked to only see Dr. Watson."
"Pardon?" Sherlock asks surprised, "I saved her life, why would she not want to see me?"
"Sherlock, I saved her. Just let it be for now," John suggests. He pushes past Sherlock and into the room, "Hey, Kathryn. How are you feeling?" he asks as he sits on the foot of the hospital bed.
"How am I feeling? I just got out of surgery and yesterday I got shot. I'm feeling great," I roll my eyes at him. A silence falls over us, "what happened?"
"What- what do you mean?" he stutters.
"John, don't start with me. I don't want to be lied to. That's all I get in here. You've gone through this. You've been shot. You know how it feels. Who shot the second bullet, who did it hit, and what happened after?" I insist on an answer.
"Maybe you should try and get some rest," he suggests trying to stand and leave.
"John, please. Please tell me what happened. I can handle it. If anyone knows what I'm going through it should be you," I beg.
"You really want to know what happened?" he asks sitting back down on the foot of my bed. I nod my head. "The second gun shot was one from my gun. It hit the man that shot you. He ran off before help came for you so we don't know where he is or what condition he's in.:
"I didn't even see you until after I was on the floor," I question, "and even then everything was blurry."
"I was outside the door. Sherlock figured if we both went in we wouldn't be able to protect you," he further explains.
"Why would Sherlock let himself get shot? He dropped his gun, I remember that part, but why?" I ask.
"He didn't want you to be killed," John suggests.
"That's ridiculous. I told him to let the man shoot me. Plus, it would've taken an expert shot to hit me from that angle. The man was too shaky as it was to get a good shot," I say.
"He cares about you. He couldn't sit there and watch you die," John begins to roll his eyes as if my response was stupid but stops knowing I'll see it.
"Why would he care about me?" I scoff.
"Because you're brilliant! You're just like him. I've never seen someone so smart yet so stupid," he rants, "Why won't you accept that you finally have someone in your life that cares about you? In fact, you have two people. Sherlock and I both care about you. You've done so much for the two of us. We couldn't watch you die like that."
"You care about me because I'm smart? So it's so I can solve your cases that you saved me?" I ask.
"No!" he argues.
"John, maybe I should speak with her," Sherlock says in the doorway.
"I don't want to…" I begin but Sherlock cuts me off.
"No. You'll want to hear this," he sighs. John looks from Sherlock back to be and then back to Sherlock again. He stands from where he was sitting and then leaves the room. Sherlock takes John's place at the foot of my bed.
"You want to know why I feel so protective over you?" he sighs struggling with his words as if he's never used them before.
"I'm a great help with detective work," I suggest sarcastically.
"Kathryn, do you remember the day you came to me asking me to solve your parents murder case?" he asks me.
"Sure, you asked me all those questions and then you said you couldn't help me. You turned me away," I say.
"Do you remember what I asked you?"
"You asked me about the room around me. We were in your flat," I remember.
"That day I realized there was another person on the earth with a mind like mine. You saw things about the flat that most people don't. It was as if you knew me personally. As if you'd spent most of your life in the flat. You could see how often an item was used, who used it, everything. The problem was you needed a push to use it to its full ability. I wanted to make you have a reason for going into detective work," he explains, "I knew the only way to get you to gain intelligence was to make it something you cared about. You have something that, at the time, I didn't have. You had a heart."
"Well it seems that everything that I cared about has been taken away, so what does it matter?"
"He's trying to break you down!" Sherlock practically screams. He stands up and begins pacing back and forth. "The one thing you've always held over us. He's killing the things you love, destroying them to try and break your heart. With a heart you see things that others don't. With your heart you're smarter than me, smarter than him. He can't stand having someone that is smarter than him. He's trying to break you down. Love is a weakness, but it's also a strength."
"What made you change your mind? You always thought it was a weakness," I ask looking at him still pacing.
"You were the confirmation. If you could solve the case I knew love could also be a strength, not a great one, but it's still a strength. I've learned that a lot recently," he sighs.
"You've learned it from John," I laugh.
"Excuse me?"
"John taught you how important love is, how important friendship is," Sherlock seems surprised by my deduction.
"Well, but I…" he stutters.
"Holmes, you jumped off a building for him," I remark.
"And for Mrs. Hudson," he says with a light chuckle behind his voice.
"And for Mycroft," I add. That gets him laughing.
"Let's not tell anyone about that one," he says still laughing.
"Sherlock," John says entering the room, "the nurse says it's time for us to go. Kathryn needs to sleep." Sherlock and I look at each other and he does something I've never seen him do before. He gives me a kiss on the forehead and brushes the hair that had fallen in front of my eyes away, then turns to leave. The two of them wave at me as they exit the room.