Author Note: Long chapter, my lovelies, but a good, action-y one. Warning, though. There is abuse in this chapter that may be triggering for some.
Now
In the distance the lights of Montargis made the town look like a small boat floating on a sea of darkness. High above the siblings a dusting of stars twinkled brightly. The street was bare and every house had their curtains closed. Outside on the street the world was a dark and remote place.
"Sherlock," Teddy finally said, her voice piercing the blanket of silence that had fallen over them. The older man didn't reply.
"Sherlock, are... are you all right?"
"Perfectly fine," he replied, but Teddy was not stupid. She knew leaving Cosette had been hard for him. She frowned, looking down at her feet before replying.
"Look, I... I'm sorry for being so bossy before. And for... for bringing up that thing. I shouldn't have done that, that was a low blow. I know you just wanted to look out for her, especially on this particular night. It's just... well, we're so close, Sherly. I just want this madness to end."
"I understand," Sherlock murmured, and Teddy was glad to hear the sincerity in his voice. "I was the one who asked you to help me. I was the one who told you to drop your life for the sake of mine. It's only natural that you want this to be over so you can press play on your life again. Believe me, I want that too, Teddy. It would be nice to see them all again. I... I do miss them."
"Molly's beautiful laugh and friendliness," Teddy said, making Sherlock grin.
"Mrs Hudson's caring nature and excellent food."
"Lestrade's helpful listening ear and fantastic drinking company," Teddy giggled.
"And John. John is..." Sherlock trailed off and Teddy looked up at her brother, smiling sadly.
"I know," she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his arm briefly before pulling away.
"But, you understand, right? Why I couldn't just leave her..."
"Yeah. Yeah. But... you had to, just like I had to."
The siblings were quiet for a moment as they let Teddy's words sink in. It was true, they both had a duty to rid the world of Moriarty's network. In order for Sherlock to return home- and Teddy- they had to finish them off. Teddy sighed, rubbing her face before speaking.
"If you want we can come back after we take them out, actually have a proper goodbye..."
Teddy trailed off when she saw Sherlock shake his head.
"No, no. I think... I think it's best we not go back." Because if I do, I might not want to leave again.
"O-Okay."
The conversation stalled to a stop as they continued to walk. They were nearing the end of the street when the headlights of a car appeared. Due to the clash of the night with the bright lights it was hard to tell what color the car was but Teddy was certain it was black. At first, the siblings didn't care much about the car. It wasn't until Sherlock had a glimpse at the driver that he frowned, looking over his shoulder as the car drove by. Teddy did the same, following her brother's line of sight before returning it to Sherlock.
"Sherly?" she murmured, her eyebrows furrowed. Sherlock's pace slowed down until suddenly he was standing still, watching the tail lights of the car get smaller and smaller. He felt something stir in his stomach but he couldn't place his finger on what it was. It wasn't until he saw the car turn left down Cosette's street that he realized what that feeling might be.
"Something's wrong," he said, eyes still glued towards the distance over his shoulder. Teddy frowned, looking back too, before taking hold of Sherlock's arm and tugging on it to get his attention. Slowly her older brother turned around to look down at her.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Something's wrong, I know it."
"But- but how? Sherly, I don't understand."
"Listen," Sherlock said, beginning to explain the reason behind his fear. "We've been here for over two weeks now and in that time I have never seen a black car on Cosette's street. There are only five houses on her small street and none of them have black cars so obviously whoever turned down the street is not from there."
"A visitor, then."
"It's a little late for visitors, isn't it? And anyway, I managed to catch a glimpse of the passengers in the car- mind you, it wasn't a very good glimpse, but still. There were four men, all around Cosette's age, I think. Now, why in the world would four men be driving to one of the houses on that small street when all the residents there are very, very old and have nothing to do with them. They didn't look like they were related- then again, though, I'm only guessing here-so they're not here to visit family members. What are they here for, then?"
"Sherly..." Teddy trailed off, staring up at her brother. Even in the bad lighting she could see how pale his skin was and how frightened his eyes looked. This fear really had gotten into his system."Sherly, maybe you're just overreacting. Nothing's wrong, everything's fine. Now come on, we gotta catch that train so we can get to Paris in time."
She let go of his arm and began walking again. It wasn't until she realized that Sherlock hadn't followed suit that she stopped and turned, staring at her brother who hadn't moved an inch. Teddy frowned, beginning to get agitated. If they didn't hurry then they were going to miss the last train out and if they missed that then they would miss their chance!
"Sherlock, please! You're overreacting, we have to go!" Teddy called. Sherlock looked over his shoulder towards his sister. Although he knew he should follow her - that perhaps she was right, he was overreacting- he couldn't get his feet to move in that direction. Something was holding him back and he was fairly certain what that something was.
"Something is wrong, Teddy!" Sherlock called back. "I can feel it! I...I have to go back."
"Sherlock, no! We have to take them down!"
"I can't leave Cosette-"
"We can come back after-"
"Something doesn't feel right-"
"Sherlock-"
"They shouldn't have gone down her street-"
"Sherlock, please-"
"I have to go back."
Without another word Sherlock turned and began running back the way he had come, Teddy shouting out his name behind him. He knew he was being stupid, he knew he was just imagining it, but he had to make sure. There was a painful, dreadful feeling in his chest that hadn't been there before the car had turned up. He knew the only information he had was intuition and that wasn't much to go on, but he was because that feeling was strong. He couldn't get out of its hold. To think that something bad might be happening to Cosette, that those men might be hurting her...
If your intuition is wrong, that's okay. At least she's safe. If it's right though....
At least you're coming to help her.
He heard footsteps beside him. Turning his head towards the source of the noise he found that Teddy had caught up and was now running slightly in front of him. They caught eyes for a moment and Sherlock could clearly see the doubt and sadness in her eyes- doubt about Sherlock's feeling and sadness knowing that they wouldn't get to Paris on time. They broke contact quickly, though, and soon it was just the two of them running towards what would soon become their own level of Hell.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When the doorbell rang Cosette nearly ran to the door. She had hoped beyond hope that he would return. She knew that he had a job to do and she knew it had been very unlikely that he would return but still, she had hoped. She just wanted one more night with him before he had to go away.
Her hand feeling for the doorknob she felt a wave of butterflies in her stomach. If only she could see! She just wanted to see his face again.
Zis feels like a romance novel, she thought with a little grin. The man leaves the woman all alone on a night she really, reallydoesn't want to be alone on to go save the world. The woman is sad and upset by this but she doesn't let on because it's for the greater good. In the end, though, the man decides to return for one more night because he knows her, and he knows she doesn't want to be alone. Just one more night. The rest of the world could wait a little while.
"Sherlock?" Cosette said when she finally opened the door.
"Non! Bonjour, Cosette! "
Cosette couldn't see the blow coming so obviously she didn't expect it. Suddenly she found herself lying on the floor, her chest feeling like it had been crushed, and she was gasping for air. She heard multiple footsteps enter her home and she heard the door close. Although she couldn't see, she could sense them surrounding them. A hand closed around her throat and pulled her up to a sitting position and Cosette could imagine his face before hers as he spoke in French.
"We have a message from Dorian, Cosette. He wants you to know that on this day- the anniversary of his son's death- you will die too. Tonight, the job Dorian started will finish."
The men- she couldn't tell how many of them there were- laughed and she was chucked onto the ground again.
"You, run a bath. And you, get a knife," she heard the man say in French. Cosette could feel her heart racing and she wished, wished, wished she wasn't blind. The darkness only made things worse and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn't let out her fear in some shape or form. She felt it building in her chest, rising in her throat, and opening her mouth wide Cosette began to scream.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The front door was closed when they arrived. That didn't lessen his fears, though.
Teddy and Sherlock stood before the door, their breathing coming in sharp pants as they tried to regain themselves. Turning the door handle a smidgen Sherlock found it to be unlocked. Quickly checking the windows beside the front door Teddy found that the blinds had been drawn so there was no way to tell what was occurring inside. Whatever was happening, though, probably wasn't good. They had found the black car sitting on the street outside the house, a clear sign for both Holmes'. Other than that, though, they had found nothing else.
"We have to get inside," Sherlock whispered to Teddy.
"How? What if the men are in there and they've got guns? That's two of us against four of them."
"Yes, but you're a good shot and I'm agile."
"Not enough to dodge a bullet, though, Sherly. And I'm not good enough to shot said bullet before it reaches its target," Teddy hissed, loading her gun as she spoke. Sherlock did the same, his hands trembling slightly as he did so. Teddy noticed this and with a frown took it from him.
"Look, okay, let's just do this: I jump in, guns ready, and shoot if they've got guns while you get in there and save Cosette under my cover. If they've got no guns then I'll hold them prisoner while you get Cosette."
"It's not the best plan," Sherlock admitted, but Teddy gave him a cold glare which shut him up immediately.
"Doesn't matter. Judging by the likelihood of us surviving this, I think we'll be safe. The longer we sit out here and discuss this, though, the less chance Cosette survives. And that is why we're here, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Exactly, so quit your bleating and get ready. On three."
The pair stood up, Sherlock's hand on the door handle, Teddy a step away from the door. The siblings stared at each other and softly Teddy began counting.
"One... Two... Three!"
Chucking the door open Sherlock backed away while Teddy jumped inside, both guns aimed and ready.
"Scotland Yard, drop your weapons!" She cried, mentally cringing at what she said. It was a force of habit for her. Taking in the scene before her she found that there were only two men; one in the kitchen and one in the living room. The tallest one in the kitchen held a knife in his hand, his eyes wide in fright when he caught sight of the gun-toting woman. The shorter one, though, whipped into action. Pulling a handgun from his waist he raised it towards Teddy. Teddy wasn't slow, though. Before his aim could be perfected Teddy shot the man in the leg, the sound ringing loudly in the house and most likely alerting the neighbors. With a cry he fell onto the ground, dropping the gun. Without a word Sherlock ran towards the man, kicking his gun away before facing the man who was still up.
"You," he spoke in French. "Where are your friends? Where's Cosette?"
"By now she will be dead, her soul burning in Hell where she belongs!" the man snarled before spitting on the ground. Sherlock turned to Teddy, his eyes hard as stone. She got the message and without a word shot the man in the leg, earning a painful yell from him before he joined his friend on the ground. Sherlock would've approached the man had he not heard the scream that chilled him to the core.
"Sherlock!"
"Cosette? Cosette!"
"Go!" Teddy yelled, gaining her brother's attention. "I'll take care of these two, you go and save her. Now, Sherlock!"
Without another glance at his sister or the two Frenchmen Sherlock rushed out of the room and down the hall, hearing splashing and muffled screams coming from the bathroom. Trying the handle he found the door locked so, his heart thumping furiously against his chest, he ran at it, using his shoulder to force the door open.
"Cosette!" he wailed, repeating the action when the door didn't open. "Cosette, hang on, I'm nearly there!"
With a final shove the door gave way, breaking away from its hinges. Stepping over the door Sherlock turned, eyes searching frantically. He had only just laid eyes on the bathtub when suddenly something hard came into contact with his head, sending him onto the ground. His head throbbing and blood running from his forehead he looked up in time to see a dark haired man raising a metal pole. As he brought it down towards the British man Sherlock rolled out of the way, the metal clanging loudly when it came into contact with the ground. Wasting no time Sherlock kicked out at the man's kneecap, satisfied when he heard a sickening crack and a scream of pain. The man fell to the ground cursing as Sherlock scrambled up. The man's words were cut off when Sherlock aimed a quick, precise kick at his head, knocking him out. It was as Sherlock stepped back from the man that he heard a voice speaking in French.
"That wasn't a very nice thing to do."
Breathing hard Sherlock turned towards the voice. Sitting on the lid of the bathtub was a tall, blond haired man, his dark eyes staring at Sherlock with lazy interest. It wasn't the man who caused Sherlock to lose color in his cheeks, though. It was the site next to him. In the bath, her skin shiny and wet, her head lolled to one side, was Cosette. The water she sat in was tainted a dark pink color and with shock Sherlock noticed the deep lines in one of the arms the man was currently holding onto. In his other hand he held a large knife.
"Let. Her. Go," Sherlock growled, anger and horror mingling into one heated mess inside him. The man cocked an eyebrow, looking down at Cosette for a moment before returning his gaze to Sherlock.
"Why? She is dead already. There's no use trying to save her. I don't exactly see why you wish to do that. Do you know what she is?" he said in French. His words made Sherlock's stomach churn, that and the sight of Cosette's blood continuing to pour from her arms in thick streams. If he didn't do something soon, she would truly be lost.
"I know everything," Sherlock said through grounded teeth, taking a step forward.
"Well, then. You should be thankful that I am ridding the world of such scum. I know Dorian is."
"Dorian-" Sherlock began before cutting himself off, realization hitting him hard. "Oh, of course. You're his friends. Are you guys doing this for some sort of... of twisted justice? Are you here to get revenge for your friend?"
"Not revenge. We're just here to finish the job Dorian started," the man shrugged. "So if you don't mind, I think one more cut should do."
He raised the knife, pressing the tip of it into Cosette's arm and electing a moan from the unconscious woman. A white hot flash passed through Sherlock and before the man could do anymore damage Sherlock had chucked himself across the room, tackling the man to the ground. The knife slipped out of the man's hand, skidding across the slippery floor. With a growl Sherlock found his hands wrapped around the man's throat, squeezing tightly, a bloody haze tinting his vision. The man wouldn't be killed so easily, though. He reached up and grabbed Sherlock's hair, tugging hard and causing Sherlock to loosen his grip slightly. That was all the man needed because he raised his head, smashing it against Sherlock's mouth and causing blood to erupt inside it. Falling backwards Sherlock managed to spit out a mouthful of blood before being shoved to the ground, the man straddling him he held Sherlock by his throat with one hand, using the other to punch him repeatedly in the face.
"You should be thanking me," the man hissed, his eyes narrowed. "No child killer should be able to go on with life without punishment. Be glad she is dead. Had you stayed with her she would've killed your children, too."
Sherlock could see stars before him and he knew he was close to passing out. His hands scrabbling against the ground he brushed against the handle of the knife. Making sure his movements would not give him away he grabbed the knife, his eyes locked on the man above him, before lifting it up and using it to stab the man in his side. With a howl the man rolled off Sherlock, clutching his side where blood was now pumping furiously out from his stab wound. Crawling to his feet Sherlock took one look at the incapacitated man before making his way to Cosette, his head swimming in pain. With a grunt he pulled her out of the tub and onto the floor, collapsing under her weight.
"Cosette?" Sherlock said, trying to get a response. When she did not reply Sherlock looked around, searching for something to bind her arms with. The adrenalin which had been coursing through his veins had faded slightly, making way for panic. His heart beating fast he stared at Cosette, shaking her gently and calling her name, before looking up and shouting.
"Teddy! Call the police! Get me some towels, hurry!"
"Police are already on their way, same with an ambulance! Wait there, they'll be here soon!" she called.
I can't, there's no time, she's dying! Sherlock wanted to scream, fear icy cold in his veins. He held his tongue, though, knowing that he couldn't let his fear and panic take control. With eyes closed tight Sherlock held Cosette to him, whispering feverish prayers under his breath.
"Please, please, please don't die, Cosette. Please, I don't want to lose you again. I don't want you to go. I know you might but please, for me, Cosette, don't be dead. Please, Cosette, don't do this to me. William, please, let your mother live. I know you probably want her but please, leave her be. I know I'm selfish for asking this but please, I want her to stay. Please William, let her stay."
He didn't stop saying this even when Teddy came in and wrapped her arms to stem the bleeding. He didn't stop praying even when the ambulance arrived and took her to the hospital. When he shouted at the paramedics telling them he was coming with her he didn't stop repeating it in his mind. For the rest of that night he continued to pray, plead, beg, and ask for Cosette to live. He didn't stop until- out of exhaustion and Teddy's promise that she would keep an eye on Cosette- he finally fell asleep.