A Game Of Hearts And Minds

CHAPTER XXII - I like scars because I like the stories

When I woke up I realised that I was still positioned on the damp floor, the smell of chlorine heavy, making it hard to breath. Or maybe it was due to my scar, also very possible. I slowly opened my eyes as the ring in my ears slowly faded off. When I looked to my side, Sherlock and Mycroft were there, as well as Lestrade and John. 

Slowly, I sat up under the guidance of Sherlock and Mycroft's gentle hands on my back. "What happened?" I vagely asked.

"You passed out." Mycroft answered.

"What is he doing here?" I said as I turned to Lestrade. "Don't you have to arrest us?" I spat. He kept silent, and Sherlock answered for him. "We're free of charge. They've arrested Moriarity." My gaze remained on Lestrade. "Too scared to speak?" I spat once again. I was pissed off, and that was clear. 

"Lauraine, I'm going to need to examine you." John's voice cut through the tension. He was knelt down next to me, and looked at me with a awaiting gaze. I sighed deeply and pulled myself together. "Yeah sure."

I calmed my breathing and let John do his work as Lestrade told me what happened. "We found your work, how you figured out what Moriarity drugged, and tried to kill, the kids with. We also found letters to his men, where all of his instruction were listed in. And-" Before Lestrade could go on, John interrupted him. "Could you guys all please stay silent? I'm trying to listen to her lungs."

And so the room kept silent. Much to my dispair, because I knew what he was probably going to say. After about a minute or so, he turned his gaze up to me and took his stethoscope off my chest. "I hear a slight rattle and a squeel. But I can't quite place it." 

I shot a panicked glance at Mycroft, and I could practically see his heart drop in his chest. At that moment I felt something that I had never actually felt before. Of course, I had been scared, but I had never been this patrified. I was dying.  I was actually slowly dying now and it was all going way faster than planned. However, I still couldn't tell Sherlock, neither anyone else, so I mentally pulled myself together once more and gathered all the breath I had to speak. "I don't feel different though, I'll keep an eye on it. Anything else?" I asked John.

He looked up at my neck, then sighed. "I am pretty sure that within the next few hours to days bruised will start to bloom on your neck, possibly on your shoulder too. You were strangled, that's not something to take lightly."

"Not something I haven't endured before. Thank John." I said, wanting to round off this conversation before John found even more that worked in my disadvantage. "Just make sure to take enough rest, and keep an eye on the rattle and the squeeling. Doctor's orders." He smiled up at me softly, and I smiled back at him.

Mycroft, who I suspected had pulled himself together as I was talking, spoke. "Let's get you to bed then. You heard what Doctor Watson here said." 

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Being bedbound was the worst thing ever. Not because I had to stay in bed, which I had no problem with to be honest as I had been feeling significantly worse and worse, but because I had to stay at Mycroft's house as staying at 221B was still too dangerous and nobody could keep an eye on me.

Every hour, someone came to check up on me. 9 out of 10 times it was Anthea, but this time it was the queen himself. At the most inconvinient time too, because I was just trying to stelp my bleeding nose. He didn't even greed me and immediately went to buisiness. "You've been getting worse."

"Hello to you too." I growled, pissed off. I really wasn't in the mood to talk about this. "Lauraine, this is not a joke. You are dying!"

I sighed heavily. "Myc, I have just escaped death once again, I am really not feeling this conversation." Mycroft's demeanor didn't change, and he stood at my bedside determined and with a serious expression on his face. "I'm taking you to the doctors."