Sherlock got a carriage for us, it's a rather small one, so I had no choice but to sit between Sherlock and the driver.
"Did you bring your dagger?" Sherlock whispers in my ear.
I lean away, slightly spooked at his sudden closeness.
"Of course, I brought several," I whisper back.
He nods, his blue eyes staring at the road ahead of us. I watch him curiously, his body is tense, much more than usual, and his jaw is clenched.
He's nervous.
That alone makes me even more anxious than I already was.
I rub my arms, I'm glad I wore a blouse and trousers, but I wish I had remembered to grab a coat.
Sherlock suddenly wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer to him, my body relaxes at the warmth coming from him.
"Sherlock-"
"Don't say anything."
I smile to myself. What a gentleman.
"We're here," the driver says.
The carriage stops and Sherlock helps me down. Enola and Tewkesbury exit the carriage as well, both of them blushing profusely. I raise an eyebrow at Enola, but she gives me a glare.
The four of us walk into the theater, and up the stairs to the seating area. I look around cautiously, something bad's definitely gonna happen.
"X marks the spot," Enola says, pulling a stack of papers from under a seat.
A woman joins us, she takes off her blond wig, revealing her red hair.
"Sarah," I whisper to myself.
Enola looks through the papers, "The contract between Lyon and McIntyre to change the phosphorus. This is what William stole for you, and the pages from the factory register. That's what you stole from the office."
"These are the names of the girls they killed," I say, reading the papers.
Sarah nods, "I couldn't let them be forgotten."
"This is proof that the girls are dying from the match factory, and they knew it all along."
"You two are bloody good detectives," Sarah says.
"And so are you, Sarah."
"I will make sure the world knows about this," says Tewkesbury.
"Thank you. Now we must find William, he was supposed to meet with me six hours ago."
Enola and I share a sad look, but Sherlock steps in.
"I'm afraid William won't be coming."
"I told him we had everything we needed, and that we should just go public. He said nobody would care unless we had someone in power who would listen. He was just trying to keep me safe, and now I've lost him," Sarah says sadly.
"You can't blame yourself," I tell her.
Enola nods, "We need to get moving or else we'll lose you too."
"Losing this....losing that."
Grail walks towards us, dragging Bessie along with him. Four men come from the other side, one holds a gun to Sherlock's head, while the other three point knives at the rest of us.
"I fucking knew this shit would happen," I say in annoyance.
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
I turn to Sherlock with wide eyes, "I thought it was obvious!"
"Let go of, Bessie!"
"Give me the papers," says Grail.
Bessie bites his hand, making him let go.
"Run, Bessie!"
The young girl runs away and I kick the man in front of me, sending him flying over the ledge.
Sherlock knocks the guy's gun out of his hand and looks at me, "Nice kick."
Enola grabs the trapeze and swings to the stage, I pause for a second to watch. "Show off."
Sherlock and I run opposite ways, but I can hear him yell at Tewkesbury. "Don't just stand there!"
The man I had kicked unfortunately wasn't badly injured, so he began to chase me.
"Leave me alone!" I yell.
He catches up to me and knocks me to the ground, then crawls on top of me.
I stretch my arm out to my leg, and pull dagger from my pocket.
"Sorry I'm not into short guys," I say swinging the dagger at him.
He jumps off of me to dodge it so I quickly begin running again. He of course chases me.
I reach a dead end and turn around to see him smiling at me.
"What are you gonna do now, love?"
He swings his knife at me, I dodge it and the two of us start circling again.
He once again swings at me, and I dodge but he hits my hand with his, knocking my dagger out of my hand.
"I'll even the odds," he says, tucking his knife back in his belt.
He punches me, right in the face. I stumble back and let out a pained groan. The man continues to swing at me, like a frantic monkey. Some of his punches landed, while some of them didn't.
I punch him square in the nose and he stumbles back, "Alright, I'm tired of playing around."
He pulls his knife out and before I can get my own he runs towards me and stabs me right in the stomach.
I close my eyes tightly, but slowly open them again. Shouldn't I be in pain right now? Or dead?
We both look down to his knife, and I let out a loud laugh.
"Corsets save lives."
He backs away in shock, giving me enough time to grab my dagger from the inside of my corset.
The two of us begin fighting again, but he suddenly stabs me in the leg.
That fucking hurt.
"Fuck you, man!" I yell in pain.
I slice his arm and he hisses, "You're going to die from blood loss, just give up."
The two of us are bloody and out of breath, and the odds are definitely in his favor.
"Are you kidding me? I can do this all day."
He lets out a yell and runs towards me but I step out of the way, causing him to run straight into the wall.
His body thumps against the ground and I limp towards him, he's either knocked out or dead.
I'm fine with either option.
"Fuck, I should've done that ten minutes ago."
I begin limping back to the main room, and as I get closer I can hear yelling.
"(Y/n?!)"
I walk faster, blood pouring out of my leg with every step.
I walk out into the main room, and see that there's police here now.
"(Y/n)!" Enola yells, running to me.
She pulls me into a hug and I grimace, "I'm glad you're okay, but you're crushing my ribs."
She pulls away from me, her eyes watery, "I'm so glad you're okay."
Sherlock nods, "You survived."
"You didn't think I would?"
He smiles in response, but everything starts to get blurry.
"(Y/n)? Are you okay?" Enola asks.
I stumble back, my vision's starting to go black. "Oh, I got stabbed."
My body hits the floor, I can hear voices but can't understand what they're saying.
My vision goes back to normal just long enough to see Sherlock's face above mine, but then everything goes black again.
And this time, the darkness stays.