It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

73 - In Which Mycroft Doesn't Verbally Attack Elizabeth

A/N - Warning: Distressing scenes

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Rita had been swift enough to cover her eyes, but the bleach still splashed onto her bare neck and legs and had begun to soak into her dress. The burning sensation occurred too fast for it to really be bleach (so God knows what had really been thrown over her) but the excruciating wave of pain flooded over her instantly.

Elizabeth watched with wide eyes as this happened, transfixed by the surreality of the scene. The liquid had been clear, it had looked like water, perhaps it even was in an effort to intimidate them but the ungodly scream that left her friend's lips as she stumbled back into the toilets shocked the thief into action. Chemical burns. Everyone knew chemical burns had to be treated with water to lessen the impact.

"Rita! Rita come over to the sinks - " Elizabeth spoke, her voice trembling as she reached out to guide her, her hand just brushing Rita's back.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked, hands still covering her eyes in the fear of letting the chemical damage her sight and Elizabeth too, "Water! I - Water, where!? Please!?"

Rita's shrill cries of agony and incoherent pleading sent shivers down Elizabeth's spine and teased tears from her eyes. What could she use to wash her down with water? Chucking the card and present on the sink, she grabbed the small plastic bin that had been placed in the toilets by the last sink, ripping out the rubbish bag and wasting no time in trying to fill it with water from the taps.

"Just hang on, Reet, please, oh God, please." The thief's voice broke but she swallowed, yelling for help as she filled the bin.

Elizabeth could feel the panic rising in her as she heard Dr Rahat fall to the floor, lying on her back, still sobbing hysterically at the feeling of her skin sizzling.

The thief left the tap running and turned around with the bin half full of water. It might not have been as sanitary as one would have liked but it was the most efficient method she had to her disposal.

"Rita, it's gonna be okay, I'm gonna pour water over you, it's gonna be okay..." She kept repeating, unsure of who she was trying to reassure more as she gently let the clear, cooling liquid wash over Rita, matting her black hair to her face.

She turned to fill the bin again, pained at hearing Rita's cries dissipate into piteous, tortured groans. That's when she saw Sherlock in the corner of her eye. The lovers shared a look - it was all the communication they needed for him to know what to do. He drew his phone out of his pocket as he left the room.

Turning to gently flood water over her body again, tearing up at seeing the horrible red welts appearing on Rita's hands and legs, she heard another person enter. Elizabeth looked up to see Mycroft, a rare expression of emotion apparent on his face as he saw his significant other, writhing on the floor.

And all because of Moriarty's obsession with her.

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Once the paramedics arrived, they saw to Rita (in the practically flooded women's toilets) right away. Elizabeth, Sherlock and Mycroft watched wordlessly as they put her onto a stretcher.

The entire restaurant watched just as silently as she was carted out to the ambulance.

"I should - go with her." Mycroft mumbled but didn't move to go.

Sherlock nodded, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Go." He urged, "I'll find out who did this."

"I know who did this." Elizabeth muttered, a hint of anger in her tone, "And over my dead body will he get away with it."