Marriage and Mental Illness (Sequel to Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles)

Death Does Discriminate

The clear night was cool, eerie. The stars seemed to shine more brightly as if even the heavens were weeping.

"You can't be dead, I love you." Alice's horrified whisper sent me crashing back to reality. I held my hand out to her. Jack squeezed her shoulder as she took my hand in her own, much smaller by comparison. The two of us held her as she cried, and cried and cried. She eventually let go of my hand and began stroking Olivia's hair. A string of blubbering sounds escaped her, and she leaned down to kiss her, one last time.

But Olivia was still as the night, already gone from this world.

I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, lifting me up. I stood, letting myself get spun around and into John's waiting arms. I wrapped my arms around him and slumped against him. I could feel hot tears running through my hair as he cried too.

She was gone.

The lovely singer we'd all known and loved was gone. Dead. All because we had failed to protect her. If I'd figured it out sooner, she would be home, safe and sound. Laughing. Smiling. Alive.

Peeking over his shoulder, I saw as all the agents were stood together, silent and still as we all mourned. Jack still held his sister, their dark hair blending together. A faint cry was heard and Afiba's voice came floating through.

"No! It can't be! Let me see her!" His voice cracked as he ran through, still dressed in a business suit.

Nneoma was not far behind. She screamed when she saw her daughters broken body. Afiba clutched her, gasping.

Nneoma ran to her daughter, shrieking with grief and shock. I broke away from John, still holding onto his hand. I moved to go to Nneoma when Afiba spotted me. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he pointed an enraged finger at me. His other hand clenched into a fist, eyes burning with a murderous rage.

"YOU!" He bellowed and lunged.

I did not move as he tackled me to the ground, landing blow after blow. Pain shot through my nose and I barked. I deserved it though.

This was my fault, I wasn't quick enough. Wasn't clever enough. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault! MY FAULT!

John's POV

Sherlock made no move to protect himself as Afiba threw him to the ground raving. "YOU DID THIS TO HER! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Sherlock only yelped in pain, still not even raising his arms.

Jack and I were already moving, grabbing Afiba by the arms. We pulled him off of my husband, even as the screaming continued. Agents were helping us and continued to hold him back as I ran back to Sherlock.

I helped him into a sitting position as he held his hand over his nose. Blood seeped through his fingers, mixing with his tears. He barely looked at me, eyes fixed on Afiba. "I'm sorry," he croaked out. Afiba didn't say anything, just wept on the ground. A broken man.

"Jesus, Sherlock," I whispered, gently prying his hands away from his nose. It wasn't broken, but blood was still streaming out. I cupped his cheeks in my hand as his eyes trained back on me. "I know," I rasped.

"She's gone." His voice broke, and my resolve did too. I pulled him against me, both of us grieving. Looking over his shoulder, I saw Nneoma clutching to her child, gathering her in her arms. She wailed, having lost the one thing unimaginable in her mind.

I'd loved Olivia too. I'd only known her for a short while, but one couldn't help but love the amazing person she'd been. Brilliant. Caring. Kind. With a heart ripped in two, I couldn't fathom what Alice, Jack, Nneoma, and Afiba were going through.

Losing a seventeen-year-old child wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to lose someone that young. They were supposed to live a long, healthy life. They were supposed to go to college, follow their dreams. They're supposed to get married, have kids, travel the world. They're supposed to live.

The next few hours were hazy, between bandaging a blubbering Sherlock, getting questioned about what had happened, and watching the lives of four people get destroyed.

Alice was transported to another safe house, with even more agents to guard her. Jack went with her to make sure she would be okay by herself. Sherlock and I were on our way home, transported by Mycroft's personal driver.

Sherlock was staring ahead, mind spinning. His head was resting in my lap, his hand clutching onto mine. My other hand stroked his hair, unsure of what to do with the gap in my heart.

We arrived home, and we both went inside reluctantly. Not wanting to acknowledge that the day was over, that this is what the day had become. Mrs. Hudson, to my surprise, was waiting for us.

"Mycroft called. Sherlock, I am so, so sorry." She engulfed him in a hug, and he began to weep again. She rubbed his back soothingly, repeating comforting words over and over again. She pulled me in as well, and the three of us stood, unable to move. Eventually, she tore away, gently instructing Sherlock to go change into pajamas for the night.

When it was just the two of us, she turned to me. Her own eyes shone, though she hadn't particularly known Olivia well, just met her a few times in passing. "It reminds me very much of what happened to Victor. The poor thing jumped in front of a car. Sherlock was broken hearted, I imagine Alice dear is going through much of the same. I imagine you're in a lot of pain too."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. I'd nearly forgotten that Victor had died so incredibly young, how this must not only hurt because of Olivia but because of Victor too. She pulled me in for a last hug before telling me to go join him. I wished her goodnight and went to join Sherlock.

I found him lying in bed, now in pajama pants. I crawled in beside him, wrapping him in my arms. My fingers stroked up and down his spine, grazing over the scars.

"How's your nose?" Though it hadn't been broken, it had been pretty bloody. He would have some bruising on his cheek and back from being thrown to the ground, but he'd be fine.

"Sore, but I'll be fine. Don't worry about that," his voice was soft, barely audible. I stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I know this hurts. I know," my voice cracked but I continued on. "But this was not your fault. This is Paul Stewart's fault, and his alone. And we're going to go in for questioning, and we're going to find the bastard who did this. And he's going to pay."

He nodded, utterly exhausted and filled to the brim with grief. He sighed shakily, and let his head fall on my chest. We were both asleep within minutes.