Mrs. Holmes [Book III]

Winter's Wreckage

Sherlock had been overtaking Henry Turman and a couple of his associates when they had all heard tires burn rubber outside. Doina had jumped through a window and escaped. Sherlock left the three to the police and ran outside, bumping into John and Niles on the way. He hoped it hadn't been Susanna's sedan, but alas it was, "No!!" He cried out as a surge of anger and fear coursed his system. He knew before he saw the chauffeur's corpse that it had been Doina, although she hadn't realized Susanna was in there, "No! This can't happen again!"

"Sherlock, you need to stay calm!"

"No, John, we need to go after them immediately!"

Mycroft clapped his brother on the shoulder, "The helicopter is on its way. That's our best bet."

"Not soon enough!" Sherlock bemoaned, unable to think of anything but his wife and unborn child- in a speeding car with a deadly arms dealer who had been plotting against them. His hands flew up and tugged mercilessly at the dark curls, "Mycroft-!"

"Here it comes!" They looked up and watched as the military chopper approached and descended. Sherlock was the first to run to it, forgetting about the others at the manor who were being arrested. John and Mycroft followed while Niles stayed to supervise. He couldn't bear to accompany them.

Sherlock barked indiscernible orders that Mycroft translated for the pilots before John had to forcibly strap him into a seat, "Sherlock, come to your senses!" The army doctor ordered, but the detective was too deep in his mind palace imagining the worst case scenarios of death and injury. Please let them be okay! Please! He begged whatever force there was for the wellbeing of his wife and their baby as the chopper lifted and began the pursuit. John sat next to his distraught best friend, throwing his arm over the man's back and giving him a tight squeeze.

Mycroft took over and deduced the route Doina would have taken. The pilots obeyed without question- working the engines and propellers as much as was safe to go faster. Sherlock watch out of the window, frantically looking for the sedan, "John..."

"Yes, mate?" The tone of Sherlock's voice made the veteran grow cold with worry.

"What if... what if they aren't okay, John?"

"Don't go there yet, Sherlock. Keep your hopes up."

"... I can't." John sighed sadly. What if Doina does or already has killed them?

About fifteen minutes later the chopper's searchlight picked up a torn up clearing on the side of the road with a flipped over car at the far end. They couldn't quite tell if it was the sedan, so they landed in the center of the clearing and called for medical backup.

Sherlock almost couldn't disembark the helicopter. And when he did, his heart suddenly weight a thousand tons, stopping with fear, "It's the sedan!" He called out. His feet carried him to the crunched up vehicle and he found the right passenger door. Because of the dark tint he couldn't see inside, so he grabbed the handle and pulled. It gave a little, "Come on!" It took a minute of trying with John and Mycroft before the door fell off its hinges. John tossed it away.

And there was Susanna- upside down, restrained by her seat belt, and unconscious, "Oh dear..." John gulped, flashing his phone light inside before handing it to Mycroft and helping Sherlock. He cautiously undid the belt and Sherlock supported her body, easing her out of the vehicle. They gingerly lowered her to the ground, using a board to stabilize her spine as the pilots brought it.

The three knelt around her, Sherlock on her left side with John, "Please, Love..," He whimpered, tryinf to check for respiration and a heartbeat. He didn't care as tears welled up and fell, streaming down his sharp cheeks, "NO! Please don't leave me, Susanna!!! I'm begging you!!"

John gently pushed his friend to the side and checked her vitals. His heart lighted, swelling with hope, "She's breathing and her heartbeat is strong, Sherlock! She's still here!"

Sherlock was already trying to revive her, barely hearing John, "Wake up, Love. At least open your eyes and let me know you're okay, Susanna," Just as sirens pealed through the crisp winter air, she turned her head towards Sherlock and moaned. He cupped her face and stroked her cheeks, "Come on, Love!"

Finally her violet-blue eyes slit open and she groaned, "Sherlock..?"

"I'm here, Susanna. I'm here. Are you hurting anywhere, Love?"

"L-Left arm..," John felt her up from the wrist and as he reached her shoulder she let out a shriek of pain, "Ahh!"

"John!"

"Dislocated shoulder. Not too severe, I hope," He edged closer, "Do you feel any pain in your abdomen and stomach, Susanna?"

"What?"

"Your stomach, Susanna. Do you feel any pain or discomfort there? The placenta may have-"

"No, the baby's fine. No pain. They're still moving," Susanna replied softly, "Doina..?"

Mycroft nodded and went to check the drivers seat. He called back, "She's here, but she's dead."

Susanna sighed and turned her head back towards Sherlock, who had taken her right hand in his, "Darling..?"

"Yes, Love?"

She smiled weakly, "I promised, didn't I?"

Sherlock choked with emotions, "Y-You did," He bent down and kissed her deeply, "You did."

The ambulance arrived and so did more police. Everyone left at the manor was in cuffs and en route to containment, they were informed, and Niles would meet them at the local hospital. Sherlock refused to let go of Susanna's hand as the EMTs prepped her for transport and loaded her into the ambulance.

John and Mycroft handled the wreckage and watched as the ambulance sped off with the couple, "To think. If we'd have come five minutes later, Susanna and the child... may not have made it."

"Susanna's stars are quite lucky."

"Indeed."

Ta!