Side of the Angels ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book II} *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter 33- Schott, Emily

Emily's POV

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They always said the waiting was the worst part.

I don't know what time it is. There's no window, no clock. I've just been sitting here, for hours and hours on end, staring at the blank wall in front of me.

It won't be long now, surely.

I wonder if they'll use pain against me, like they did with John and Millie, or if they'll torture my brain, pushing me to madness. I laugh, in spite of myself. Bit late for that.

I hope that Sherlock's coming round. I hope that Millie's not broken down.

I'm hoping for a lot of things. 

I sigh, and shift around in my chair. I'm not actually scared, not yet- maybe it's because I think that now, I'll get what I deserve- for letting my friends get tortured on my behalf.

I hope that they make mine interesting.

The door swings open.

XenLin marches in, followed by two armed guards. Another man walks in, in a lab coat, carrying a small, metal tray, with ten syringes laid out, gradually increasing in size.

They restrain me, binding my wrists. I grin up and them. If I've learned anything from my encounters with Jim Moriarty, it's to smile in the face of fear- it unnerves people.

"Emily Schott. I think you know how things work by now. I'll ask you a question.You will answer me, or we shall be forced to comply to less... known means of getting you to talk."

I laugh.

"Do you know the name of the individual who retrieved the information?"

I decide to humour them. I nod. 

He looks surprised. Then he smiles-

"Very good. We're making process. Will you tell me the name?"

I smile, again-

"No."

Without breaking eye contact, XenLin holds out a hand. The man in the lab coat delicately picks up the smallest syringe:

"I shall ask you again. What is the name?"

"Not going to happen."

XenLin shakes his head, then leans forward and presses the metal tip of the syringe to my forearm. The needle falters at the resistance my skin offers, then digs in, burying itself in muscle. His thumb guides the plunger down. The clear liquid enters my bloodstream.

I tense up:

Nothing.

I raise an eyebrow.

XenLin simply smiles, removes the syringe, places it on the tray and leans back, watching.

And then it starts.

It's almost unnoticeable at first.The room begins to jut and slur, like I've been drinking. I blink, trying to focus my vision. XenLin's voice becomes more and more distant. I look around drowsily at the people- are they poisoning me? I can't feel pain.

Then I see her.

She's lying in front of me, singing softly. I shake my head, wordlessly.

This is impossible.

I look up to find XenLin, but he's gone; they're all gone. 

"Elena?"

She stands up, her back to me, blurry around the edges.  Something's wrong. There's dark liquid matting her hair, and dripping steadily down her back, streaking her clothes in thick rivulets, some drying, some fresh.  She turns around slowly.