Fight for Me

Chapter 31

Sherlock and John followed Lydia out of the club, keeping their distance so as to not scare away the killer if he chose to target her. As they grew further away from the club however, Sherlock turned annoyed that the killer hadn't taken their bait. Yes, they could try again the following night and again and again until they finally caught him, but Sherlock hated waiting. And he wasn't sure if he could handle another night like the one he had just experienced, no matter what he tried to tell John.

"So, have you told Lydia that you know yet?" John asked, trying to start some conversation as they walked silently through the streets of London. They had been walking in silence for quite a while and apparently it had finally become too tense for the former army doctor.

Sherlock nodded, "I informed her right before you came downstairs. It wasn't the best timing, but it just slipped out. But now that she knows, I'm hoping she'll be a bit more forthcoming."

"It slipped out? Sherlock, the only thing that you've ever let slip out are deductions and even then I'm half convinced you don't even try to block them, you just want to show-off."

Sherlock's lips quirked at that statement, but refused to answer John's question. He did not need to further John's believe that he was falling for the beautiful actress that they had given refuge to, he would manage his emotions given time. But his silence only made John more suspicious.

He grabbed Sherlock's arm, stopping them in the middle of the pavement. "Mate, I know you don't want to admit that you have feelings, even to yourself, but it's clear that you're treating her differently. And I just want you to know that it's ok to like her, she's an incredible woman-"

"I don't get feelings," Sherlock spat, trying to convince himself as well as John. "And she still is a criminal, John, don't forget that."

"Sherlock!" A weak voice cried out, causing both John and Sherlock's eyes to flicker over to Lydia. A pain erupted in Sherlock's chest when he caught sight of her struggling against their offender, strangled by a rope in his hands. Without taking a moment to consider his actions, Sherlock took off and knocked into the killer, causing the three of them to crash into the pavement.

Taking advantage of the killer's surprise, Sherlock quickly scrambled over to him, his fist making contact with his face and causing a disturbing crunch to reverberate in the air. Sherlock didn't stop there, his fist hitting him again and again as his emotions crashed over him. The anger blinded him to even the realisation that the killer was the bouncer at the night club, he didn't care who it was anymore, not now that he had let him hurt Lydia.

"That's enough," he vaguely heard John speak, though his voice sounded distant to Sherlock. John grabbed hold of his arm as he tried to bring it down for another blow and John repeated, a bit more aggressively, "Sherlock, that's enough!"

Suddenly coming back to his senses, Sherlock backed away from the killer, breathing heavily. John took the handcuffs from Sherlock's Belstaff pocket and Sherlock's gaze fell on Lydia. She was crouched on the ground, shaking slightly with a hand wrapped around her neck. Sherlock had never seen her look so scared.

He knelt beside her and asked, "are you ok?"

Staring at him with wide eyes, she just gave a nod. With confirmation that Lydia at the very least was not dead, Sherlock turned to John, "we should probably phone Gavin, let him know we found the killer."

"Greg's on his way, should be here soon."

"Should we be getting Lydia to the hospital?"

John shook his head, "she doesn't need to go, unless you want her to get checked out. There aren't any serious injuries, just shock."

Sirens blared as a number of police cars sped into the area. Sherlock stood from his spot on the pavement, removing his Belstaff and draping it over Lydia, hoping that it would be a sufficient substitute for a shock blanket. Aware of John watching him, Sherlock elected to ignore John's curious gaze and roughly grabbed the cuffed and nearly unconscious murderer, dragging him over to where Lestrade was now exiting one of the vehicles.

"What the hell happened?" The detective inspector demanded, looking between the killer and Sherlock, noticing how his fists were covered in blood. "Who is that man?"

"Sent Lydia in undercover, he tried to kill her, he got what was coming to him," Sherlock explained curtly as an officer took the murderer away.

"You sent Lydia in undercover? Sherlock, what were you thinking, she's just a civilian! You could have gotten her killed!"

Sherlock's eyes darkened at the statement as anger flooded through him. "But we caught the killer. He's the bouncer at the elite night club, Le Salon de Diamant. Probably from a higher class himself and despised watching imposters getting into the night club while he was delegated to manning the door. If possible, I would prefer to be there for his questioning."

"Absolutely not, you beat that man to a pulp! I can't have you anywhere near the interrogation."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "I was only making sure he didn't kill Lydia, George. Besides, he wasn't working alone and I need to know who his accomplice was."

"Then we'll let you know when we get a name, you are staying away from this case, Sherlock," Lestrade ordered him, glancing over to where John was crouched beside Lydia, his arm wrapped around her in an attempt to comfort her. "You take Lydia home, she's clearly shaken by what happened. And for the love of all that is holy, do not be yourself. You acting like an arse is the last thing she needs."

With that Lestrade turned from Sherlock and marched back to his car, leaving Sherlock uncertain whether to disobey his orders or not. He did not feel satisfied not knowing who the bouncer's accomplice was nor did he trust Scotland Yard to figure it out themselves, but he was also aware that Lestrade was right about his new flatmate. He had to chose what meant more to him: solving the crime or Lydia.

With the excuse that helping Lydia might cause her to open up about Moriarty, Sherlock eventually chose the latter, returning to Lydia's side as John helped her to her feet. It wasn't until then that Sherlock realised that she was missing the heel of her right shoe.

Lydia seemed to notice his gaze and she explained, "fake designer shoes apparently snap when you pound them into an attacker's foot."

Sherlock's lips quirked at this statement, relieved that she was able to speak again but hating how raspy her voice sounded. He couldn't help but blame himself for her injuries, he was the one who had insisted that she help with the case and who wasn't paying attention when it was most critical. But he would never forget the feeling that flooded his system when he saw her getting hurt, it would remain as a reminder of the pain associated with getting close to people.

John managed to hail a cab and Sherlock wrapped his arm around Lydia, helping her inside with the broken heel. She gave a weak smile of thanks as he let her go then climbed in after her. He took note of how her body still shook revealing that she hadn't yet recovered and he hesitantly wrapped his hand around hers, hoping that it would help reassure her.

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(A/N): I'm so close to the end of term but at the same time I'm experiencing so much burn out BUT I got to experience a gold level presentation today that had me dying of laughter even though it was a discussion of Up which will all know deals with some really heavy themes and honestly that just brought my mood up a solid 47% Anywho, that's just me rambling because I don't really know what to say so I hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to comment and favorite since I didn't kill anyone!