A Woman Must Be Strong but…

by Rondabunny

Part 3

She was running from them, running and running downstairs through narrow, dark corridors. She put all her strength in that long-lasting marathon. There were too many of them. Too many bearded man with severe expression on their faces. They hated her and adored her. They wanted her. She ran through the door and suddenly two strong hands grabbed her and squeezed her tight. She tried to free herself but in vain.

"Ms. Adler, wake up. Ms. Adler, it's me, Sherlock Holmes." The detective held her shoulders tightly and shook her to make the woman come to reality.

"Please, let me go. I'm fine, Mr. Holmes," she asked him out of breath.

The sun was already shining outside. She was asleep in the car when they arrived. When Sherlock wanted to take her gently in his arms and take to a solitary house he rented on the seaside she immediately jerked from his touch and woke up. She lay awake all night while the man in the next room was sleeping soundly after 40 restless hours. Irene fell asleep in early morning. Now she was sweating. Somehow still disoriented she found strength to refuse his help and stand up from the bed. The woman made a step, swayed and immediately was supported by strong hands.

"What time is it?" she asked him.

"Are you in a hurry somewhere, Ms. Adler?"

"Yeah, I'm going to the bathroom. So, what time is it?" Irene insisted.

"11:13 a.m."

"Oh." She exclaimed as if it was very important at the moment.

"What does this 'oh' mean?"

"Why are you still here, Mr. Holmes?" She hissed as she made an awkward movement and her ribs screamed with pain.

"Where should I be?"

"On your way to London," she replied as a matter of fact.

"If you knew me better, Ms. Adler, you would understand that I'm a gentleman who would never leave a damsel in distress," He was still supporting her on their way to the bathroom.

"I'll paraphrase it, you're curious that's why you're here."

"And you are failing to play your role as a dominatrix. Maybe it's time to give up?" He asked as she hissed one more time.

"In that case, it will be no fun." She responded and put her healthy hand on a doorknob to the bathroom. "Thank you, Mr. Holmes. From now on I can take care of myself." The woman opened the door.

"Your mind is playing tricks on you. Nightmares started the day I rescued you or even earlier when they finally kidnapped you. After I read your history in the hospital yesterday I'm wondering how you're still walking." Sherlock blocked the door with his foot to prevent it from closing.

"Do you want to carry out an experiment of how much a woman can take? Go to hell with your curiosity, Mr. Holmes." Irene pushed him with her left hand and closed the door. The man yielded because she put all her strength in that push but it was very weak and uncertain.

"I bought you more comfortable clothes. Call me, when you need me." Sherlock spoke and returned to the room.

The woman leaned on the wall and closed her eyes. Pain was eating her inside out. She wanted to stay still as long as possible if she knew that it would help. Irene wanted to scream because of pain, weakness, despair and vulnerability.

"Breathe, Irene, breathe," Ms. Adler lulled herself. She had to be strong. Otherwise, she would be buried under her own walls. She'll go insane, become just an ordinary woman, that could be smashed away like a bug. It wasn't her, she couldn't give up. It would be like signing her death sentence. She found all the necessary drugs in the bathroom except the most needed ones.

"Where are the painkillers?" Irene walked from the bathroom trying hard not to cry out at every step she made as her ribs, kidneys and all her body was in an unbearable pain.

Sherlock gave her a small plastic cup with drugs and some water.

"Eat something or you lose consciousness of hunger."

Ms. Adler looked at the plate with two eggs, fried bacon, grilled tomatoes, toasts and mushrooms with disgust. There was also a bowl with porridge and hot mint tea without sugar. It was surprising but everything looked nice except the thing that she didn't want any of the food presented on the tray. She pushed away the plate and pulled the bowl. Her hand was shaking but she managed to bring a full spoon to her mouth. Very slowly and without any enthusiasm she ate the porridge and drank tea. The detective brought a plate with fruits and insisted for her to eat some.

"I need to take care of stitches on your back and I've bought some clothes that maybe will be more comfortable," he said in his deep voice.

She let him undress her. He took off her medical corset, made sure that stiches weren't infected. Again this time more carefully the man examined her bruises, scratches and haematoma which turned their color to dark red or bluish grey turning into violet in some places.

"Now there is no much to stare at, Mr. Holmes," She looked at him with her black eyes one of which didn't want to open wide yet.

"Why? In ugliness you may find its beauty. Some people are attracted to it."

"Not you, Mr. Holmes. I can see only curiosity, confusion and what is that, anger?" The woman stared in his eyes not breaking the contact.

"In this you'll be more comfortable," He stood up suddenly and abruptly and brought silk pajamas. It softly touched her skin when Sherlock put it on. The fabric was fine and streaming. It delicately covered her worn out body and provided the cool of the evening even though it was midday outside and the sun was beating down. The man gently covered her with a sheet when Irene lay down in the bed.

"What now?" She asked him.

"You may watch a TV. There are more than 450 channels as the owner assured me." Holmes gave her a remote control.

"Do you have a laptop?"

"Whom are you going to write, Ms. Adler?"

"Nobody."

"Then you don't need neither phone nor computer," Sherlock said strictly.

"One terrorist group and one radical group are after me. I want to know what's happening!" the woman retorted.

"You've already contributed a lot and where it has led you to?"

"Yes, I made a mistake but I can help!"

"In 45 minutes you'll be sleeping as a baby. It's not your business now, Ms. Adler. Yesterday I did one thing. I hope it would keep them busy for two weeks until you heal at least partially." He sat in an arm chair beside her bed and took a tablet in his hands.

"You gave me sedatives."

"You've got a concussion and many other damages. People heal better in sleep."

She rested on pillows for a while thinking about what she might say. She lost the battle. Her life depended on this arrogant man. This idea didn't make her happy. At least it was Holmes Junior, otherwise, she would be dead or maybe concluding a deadly bargain.

"How did you find me?" The woman pronounced.

Sherlock was too involved in whatever he was searching in the internet so that she had to repeat the question twice.

"I stole the data from your camera phone. I was surprised that so many people wanted your head on a silver plate. It took me a month to understand which way to go." He confessed.

"I'm not that desperate then. How did you figure out?

"Moriarty, I forgot about him when I saw the number of your contacts. First, I concentrated on my brother and the secret service. There were too many high level officials in the list. I was impressed." The man admitted.

"Thanks," she spoke with a sad smile.

"I remembered the pool where I and Dr. Watson were trapped and in the conversation on his phone Moriarty told that he would skin someone." Sherlock reminded her about the conversation.

Moriarty kept his word. She was skinned mentally, physically and emotionally. Even if she tried to be strong inside the woman was shivering of a thought to face that man maybe more than to face Mycroft Holmes.

Three days went unnoticed almost in silence. The detective brought her food, drugs and took care of her necessities. She ate scarcely and he didn't insist. The curtains in the room were closed all the time. The woman didn't watch the news and didn't ask for anything. She slept a lot not knowing if it were the drug's effect or the pain that she suffered from trying to get rid of it by sleeping it over. Day after day nightmares became worse and worse. This night Irene couldn't cope with them. She woke up in cold sweat with a vivid idea before her eyes of Moriarty suffocating her while sodomizing her. It was impossible to hold inside emotional and physical pain any more. She has been crying for hours holding the pillow tight to muffle the sobs coming from her mouth. The man knew. The door to her room was left open for him to hear if she needed something. Not a muscle moved in his body when he heard her soft sobs. Sherlock sat there in the darkness listening to the sounds coming from another room.

The next morning started unexpectedly. Sherlock Holmes strode into the room and opened the curtains. The man pulled at her with undue familiarity until she woke up. Screwing up her eyes the woman looked up at him ready to jump out of the bed and run if it was the reason of such treatment.

"What? Are they here? Where are we going?" Ms. Adler shot question after question agitated and still confused from her dream.

"Shhh, come on, don't spoil the moment. Today we are having breakfast outside. The sun will rise in ten minutes." In one motion he uncovered her and took in is arms. She was so confused and startled that the only thing she could do was to put her healthy arm around his neck. In a few seconds it struck her that something was wrong. She had to put up a fight, to hit him, to make him let her go but her body froze of the swiftness he carried her outside towards the sun.

"Please, stop, I don't…" Ms. Adler pleaded.

"I don't care." He finished the phrase for her. "You're safe. There's nobody but us here."

Gently he put the woman down in a comfortable beehive arm chair, covered her form with light blanket and poured a cup of tea. The sea was calm and gorgeous. The sun rise lightened the water with glittering pink and orange colors. The sun appeared on the horizon and slowly began its course towards the unlimited layers of air that represented the sky itself. Ms. Adler and Mr. Holmes sipped their tea in silence admiring the nature revealing its miracles in front of these two lost souls. The detective didn't just admire the beauty of the nature but from the corner of his eye he managed to watch the woman. Firstly worried and agitated, her features became more and more relaxed. She took a cup of tea and made a long gulp maybe even enjoying it. A light breeze played with her unruly wavy hair but she didn't mind.

"What is it for, Mr. Holmes?" Ms. Adler broke the silence.

"Let's talk."

"About?"

"What happened to you," he stated.

"I don't want to," She said softly hiding deeper into a shell she has built while being here with him.

"I do, you were crying all night."

"People cry sometimes, Mr. Holmes, especially women." Irene put the cup on the table and hid her hand under the blanket.

"Not like that." He disagreed.

"Are you an expert, Mr. Holmes?"

"How did you start misbehaving?" The man continued the interrogation.

To be continued…

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