Can't Love You {Sequel to "Not Sherlock Holmes"}

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Benedict's POV

I'm immediately startled awake by the sound of an explosion, followed by the sounds of irritated screams.

"YOU BLEW UP THE WRONG BUILDING, YOU FOOL." I jump and hurry to get everyone else up.

"Everybody, move! We've got to go!" I know that once we leave the building, we will be completely unprotected; but now, the Soldiers are using explosives, and if we stay here...

Well, we're dead.

"Veronica!" I call out, and then I remember that she was on guard. "Oh no..." I run outside with the crowd of screaming people, and Martin runs into me.

"Have you seen my girls?" He raises his voice over the crowd, and his face is panicked. I shake my head.

"No, I haven't. Veronica?" Martin shakes his head.

"I'm sorry." I clap him on the shoulder.

"Well let's find our girls and we'll meet back here." He almost smiles at that.

I run out to where the guards are supposed to be posted, and Veronica is attempting to carry an unconscious man.

"Ben!" she cries in surprise, then gestures to the suit-wearing man. "Help me, please?" I pick the man up easily and sling him over my shoulder. Veronica looks momentarily impressed.

"Come on!" I say before she can react completely.

Behind the building, people are panicking and running away.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Martin is yelling, flailing one arm wildly and holding Joe protectively with his other.

"Where's Grace?" Veronica asks as we approach.

"We don't know!" Joe cries, and she's on the verge of tears. Veronica places a hand on her arm.

"It's alright, we'll find her-"

"No, Nica, right now, you need to take control of these people!" Martin gestures furiously to our fleeing group.

"Hey! Get back here, all of you, or we're all going to die!" We can hear the sounds of weapons clashing and the Soldiers preparing to blow up the building we previously occupied.

"Daddy!" The voice comes from the building, and we all freeze and turn to see Grace standing in the doorway.

"Grace, get away from there!" Grace is crying and she remains rooted to the spot.

"Daddy, he's trapped!" Martin runs to his daughter, picks her up quickly and carries her away, but she struggles. "Stop, he's going to die!"

"Who's going to die, Grace?" I ask, grabbing her hands, attempting to calm her.

"Will!" she screams. "Will is trapped in the building! Part of the wall fell in on him, and Ian's trying to get him out, but- Daddy!" She dissolves into tears now, and she buries her face into her father's shoulder. His face is terrified.

Without thinking, I run into the building, even though Martin and Veronica are screaming for me to stop.

If I hurry. If I just hurry.

I run inside, and I can hear the Lumaros outside. They're planting explosives to the building. I must hurry.

Hurry.

Hurry, Benedict.

When I find them, I'm speechless at the sight.

It's not Will that's trapped, but Ian. In her panic, Grace had gotten it all wrong. It was Ian that was trapped, and Will who was attempting to help him, tears streaking down his face.

"Don't give up, Ian!" he cries as he tries to wipe the tears and grime from his face. "I'll get you out!" Ian spots me, and his face is grim.

"Ben," he simply says, and I sink to my knees next to him. "I'm going to die."

"I see that," I say, because I can think of nothing else to say. Ian smiles a bit. I try to pull at the rocks that are crushing his legs, but he shoos me away. I can already see that it's no use.

"Don't even bother. I'm actually quite at peace with the idea. No need to worry about me." I see the fear in his eyes though, and I look at him doubtfully. Ian wavers. "Well, I might be a bit upset. After all, I never get to see my child..." At this, tears begin to fall down his own face. He grasps my hand and tries to shift so that he can better look at me, even though his legs are trapped.

"I would say please look after Christy and the baby, but I know how poorly you think of me for what I did to Veronica." I shrug.

"You did what you did. It doesn't matter. I'll still do what I can for Christy." My words sound choked.

"Don't lie to me, Ben. Besides, Christy doesn't need you. She's a capable woman. She'll be fine." He doesn't seem to believe his own words. "But I want you to look after Veronica." My heart twinges.

"You know I already will." Ian shrugs.

"Of course I do. But what else is a man supposed to say as he's dying? It's not like I've got some great attachment to YOU." I smile despite the jab, but he squeezes my hand. "You're pretty great, Ben. I'm only teasing. I was jealous for many years because Nica loved you more than me but... You know..."

"You must remember that I've only known you for a few weeks." Ian smiles.

"Get out of here, Ben. You were always better for her than me, anyway." I try not to let Ian see the tears in my eyes. No matter his feelings for me, I still love him.

I remember standing on the street outside of 221B. It feels like so long ago. I held a trembling Veronica in my arms and I looked fondly down on a young, able looking man named Ian. And I promised myself I would look after them. I promised that I would protect them.

And I have failed.

I grasp a shaking Will by the shoulders and firmly lead him to the door.

"Run, quickly," I say, and I send him off. I look at Ian once again. He looks at me.

"You are a good man, Ian. I will never be as good as you, and for that reason, I will always be jealous. But that means that you will always be the model that I set before myself. I will always strive to be as good as you. The world will be darker without you." I incline my head to him, and he to me.

"I'm honored, Benedict Cumberbatch. And I'm honored to have known a man like you."

"I can't leave," I whisper. Ian shakes his head sadly.

"I'm afraid you have no choice."

"I could stay here with you. I can die with you. What if I don't want to live anymore?" Ian shakes his head again, firmer now.

"Now, Ben. Where's that positive spirit gone off to?"

"WE'VE LOST TOO MANY PEOPLE!" Ian doesn't even flinch.

"Just make sure we don't lose a anymore."

I look away. I walk away. I turn away.

I can't bear to see the flames that engulf the building. I cringe at the sound of the explosion, and find only small comfort in the idea of a fast death.

I have failed.

I have failed.

I am a failure.