The sister... [Recently edited]

Chapter 8: And The Hospital [EDITED]

Sherlock POV

I rush into the flat, my eyes immediately scanning the room for danger.

Then I see her.

Mykala.

She's lying on the floor, surrounded by blood, while Mycroft stands nearby speaking urgently with his guards. For once, I don't think. I don't analyse. I don't calculate.

I just move.

I drop beside her, carefully lifting her into my arms. Mycroft turns at the movement, his expression changing the second he sees her condition. I ignore him, pushing past my brother and carrying her towards the stairs.

Mrs Hudson is already waiting at the bottom, the ambulance crew standing behind her with the doors open.

Of course she is.

"What would I do without you, Mrs Hudson?" I whisper, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before carrying Mykala outside.

"Stay awake, Mykala," I murmur as I climb into the ambulance with her. "Come on, stay awake."

But she doesn't answer.

She's too still.

I sit beside her, holding her limp hand as the paramedics attach monitors, oxygen, and whatever other equipment they need to keep her alive. The flashing lights outside blur past the windows, but I barely notice.

For once, there is only one thing I can focus on.

Her heartbeat.

The fact that it's still there.

When we finally reach the hospital, they rush Mykala away from me immediately.

I hate it.

I hate that I have no control.

I hate that I can't fix this.

I'm told to wait in the waiting area, and after five minutes of repeatedly telling John to get here, the hospital doors finally open.

John rushes inside.

The second he sees me, he stops.

"Where is she?" he demands, already moving towards me. "Sherlock, where is Mykala?"

I step forward, stopping him from getting any further.

"John, she's currently in surgery. We aren't allowed to see her yet. Please, calm down."

The irony of my own words almost makes me laugh.

I cannot calm down.

Not when she's lying behind those doors.

"Calm down?" John snaps, his voice breaking slightly. "My sister is dying and you expect me to calm down?"

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing in front of me.

"How am I supposed to tell Harry? I promised I'd look after Mykala properly. I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to her!"

His anger rises, his voice echoing through the corridor.

"God, Sherlock, this is bad. This is so very bad. What did those people even want?"

My breath catches.

I knew this moment would come.

If I tell him, there is a high possibility I will end up with another punch to the face.

The last time, the bruises lasted weeks.

But he deserves the truth.

"They wanted me," I say quietly.