Fight for Me

Chapter 83

The red-head turned as she heard them arrive, revealing the left side of her face that had been marred by flames. Lydia felt a surge of sympathy for this young woman, who couldn't now be more than seventeen. Her mind flickered back to what she had been doing at that age. Learning how to steal, learning how to kill.

Lydia took a tentative step towards the young woman, causing the red-head to point the gun at Lydia's chest. Sherlock reached out to grab her wrist, begging her to get back and behind him so that he could protect her from being shot. But she gave him an assuring smile and slipped out of his grasp, taking another step towards the killer.

"Hello, I'm Lydia. We never did figure out what your name was, do you mind telling me?" Lydia approached her with a kind smile.

"Why do you want to know?" The young woman growled in a thick accent, her grip tightening around the gun.

Still Lydia showed no signs of fear, "I know why you are doing this, I understand. Sherlock and I, we just want to help you."

"You want to throw me in a cell! These men killed my family and received no punishment, but I take revenge and I am the one who must pay the price."

"Not necessarily. I have done far worse than you and I have served no jail time."

"What have you done? Killed someone you were supposed to be arresting? Or perhaps just an innocent life, I have heard those stories about the police."

"I'm not the police. And what I did, I did to protect my friends, my family. That is why I understand what you are doing here and I want to help you, you don't deserve to be punished for hurting these monsters. But if you kill him, I may not be able to convince Scotland Yard to lessen your consequences."

Anger flared up in the young woman's eyes, "you just want me to let him go, you do not care about me."

"I do care, I swear. It's unfortunate that I have to ask you not to end his life, but it is a request I have to make. Let him live with the knowledge that he alone survived, I am sure that that will be a fate worse than death. You and I both know how that feels."

"But you have people who care about you," she gestured towards Sherlock with the gun. "If I your story is true, then you are proof that if I let him live he can get over his partners' deaths and be happy. I don't have that option."

"Yes, you do, but you won't if you kill this man. He shouldn't worry you. You saw the state of his flat, I'd imagine he'll just while away the rest of his life in his own filth."

"Miss, there's not a day that I don't think of-" Carter began to fight for his life, but both women glared at him.

"Oh shut it, no one cares what you have to say," Lydia snapped, taking a step closer to the two of them. "Do you feel safe enough to tell me your name?"

"It's... it's Kasmira," she stuttered, still a bit hesitant to trust Lydia.

"Kasmira, that's a lovely name. I'm going to get you out of here, ok? I just need you to give me the gun." Lydia outstretched her hand and patiently waited for Kasmira to give her the weapon.

She looked uncertainly at Lydia's hand and asked, "how do I know you won't just arrest me the minute I give up my protection?"

"You have my word, Kasmira. You don't deserve to be punished, so please let me help you."

Kasmira reluctantly placed the gun in Lydia's hand, but noticed movement coming from Sherlock, who was hoping to get Lydia out of danger as quickly as possible, and Kasmira panicked. Pushing Carter over the edge of the building as a distraction, she sprinted to the door of the roof for a quick escape. Lydia swore as she rushed to the edge of the building, quickly grabbing hold of Carter's hand, stopping his fall.