Devil Take The Hindmost •Sequel To Life Is But A Dream•

•The Reichenbach Fall: Part Ten•

Chapter Thirty One: Save What Has Been Lost

Darkness. That is all I can see. No white light that welcomes me, just a black abyss. What will John say when he finds out I've died? What will Sherlock say? And Moriarty? I didn't even say goodbye to them. Maybe it was for a reason. Maybe they didn't even deserve closure. They'll forget though. Give it two weeks, and John will be back to running with Sherlock, solving crimes like they do. I begin to hear voices. Does that happen when you die? You hear voices that welcome you instead of the infamous white light?

A gust of cold air brushed my nose, which sends a chill down my spine. The chill quickly became fear and despair, as the truth entered my mind:
I was still alive.
The voices then became clear: two male, one female.
"She's going to be alright?" A young male asked as my senses returned.
"I hope so. I know her, and I was worried this day would come." The familiar voice of Molly Hooper chimed, a tone caked with grief.
"Should I tell John?" I heard Lestrade ask, "Young man what's your name?"

His words were overlapped by Molly begging Lestrade not to tell John. As my numb hands become living, I feel another holding them.
"Molly, he's got to know, he's her uncle for christ's sake." Lestrade mentioned.
"No, leave this to me. I've got an idea, but it's not something she'll like." Molly said, and I could hear her voice crack towards the end. The person's grip on my hand tightened. "Excuse me."

Her footsteps faded out, and a silence prolonged.
"I didn't even know her, and yet I would jump in to save her. She just... seemed familiar." He told the Detective Inspector.
I could feel the pieces of my heart fall. This was the boy who tried to stop me. He did. I didn't know whether to love him or hate him for that.
"Come on son." Lestrade advised. "You've probably got school."
I heard the Detective Inspector walk away, but the boy stayed.
He was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, making me listen to the air duct above.

"You went to my school. That's where I remember you from. I'll make sure they won't talk. They have no right too. Silly me, talking when you can't listen, but I hope you can understand why I dove in after you." He explained to me. "If we should ever cross paths again, perhaps we can be friends. I may not know who you are, where you come from, what you've been through, or why you jumped, but I know your life is something that is going to be worth living. I hope you know that you have a friend who can help you through this. Hopefully you hear this: my name is Daniel, and I am here for you."

His words made a stinging pain stab my heart. It took all of my will not to squeeze his hand and open my eyes, but I pursued nonetheless.
"That's all I have to say about that." He finished, and let go, his final footsteps drifting in my ears.

It's a while before I open my eyes, and when I do, I bring both my hands to my face. A sob escapes my lips, and I roll over on the hospital bed, warm tears against the cold skin. The sun is hidden outside, while rain threatens the city of London. One of my hands curls into a fist as I look outside: buildings that are silver and white, black and chrome add no color to the scene.
I then notice that my brown jumper is missing, and now it is only my red and blue button up with jeans.

Calming myself, I took in the room around me. There were simple medical instruments near me, such as a curtain dividing me from the rest of the room, an IV drip, and morphine. My eyes lingered over the morphine for too long of a time, and the moment I moved to it, footsteps were heard outside. I immediately lied limp on the bed, waiting for the figure to pass. It didn't take long for them to walk by, but to me it was like an eternity as I listened to each passing step.

My breaths were now deep as I swung my legs over the bed and onto the floor. A string of pain shot through me, and still with every step. I went to the small table and took the morphine, pocketing it.
When I got to the door, I opened it and glanced down the hall: the dim, long, and intimidating hall. Something was at the end though, that I did not expect: a long black trench coat under dark curls.