Posted by Bowen Cates on 3/7/2008, 2:19 pm, in reply to "Chapter five part one"
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Theodore could not be the cause of so much unhappiness…he broke into a run, racing back around another maze of street corners, until he reached the scene of the disaster, Where, stopping short, he almost fainted with shock and horror.
Holmes was lying on his back, on the garden path where Theodore had left him. Blood pooling around him, soiling his street baggers clothes, his attacker was leaning over him, rummaging around in his pockets checking for a gun.
“Hey!” Theodore yelled, he didn’t know what he was thinking, yelling at a great ape four times his size, who was holding a revolver more then capable of blasting his scull to bits. Theodore had always been the skimpiest kid in his class, all arms and legs; he stood no chance whatsoever against this guy.
The man advanced, kicking Holmes’ limp body aside; it was then that Theodore realized what had happened. Holmes had jumped in front of him, taken a bullet to the chest, in order to save Theodore’s life.
A new kind rage kindled his soul, before; he had only felt this way when his brother or the kids at school bullied him.
But this was different, this was fire, this was a need to protect those who meant something to him, a need for the satisfaction of hitting back.
The man was only three feet away now. Running at Theodore, sweat poring down his pockmarked forehead, arms outstretched in a deadly embrace, ready to crush the bones of the boy in front of him.
Just as he reached him however, Theodore jumped to the side, sending his pursuer head first into the brick wall behind him. Knocking him out with a resounding ‘CRACK’ sadly, the situation was too dire for any kind of satisfaction where revenge was concerned and he had to act too quickly to bother with extra words.
Running toward Holmes, Theodore flung himself down beside the detective, so fast that the skin came off his exposed knees as he hit the cobblestones.
“Holmes! Say something!”
The detective only groaned.
“Please, just hold on!” oh, how he wished Watson were here, he would know what to do!
The wound was very deep, and even Theodore could see that it had only missed his heart by an inch or so.
“Please someone help!” Theodore called out to the empty ally behind him in desperation,
“HEL-“ Suddenly everything went black, screaming in pain he keeled over on his side, blind to his surroundings, gasping for air and groping for something, anything to hold onto to stop the onslaught of dizziness. His good hand took hold of something soft.
And then he was falling, his screams drowned out by the racing wind, suffocating him even more, he tried to move but couldn’t, he felt heavier then before and prying open his eyes saw, though tears of pain, that he was holding someone’s hand.
Holmes’
“NO!” he screamed “NO!” this could not be happening! Faster and faster, they fell, the detective’s unconscious body completely at the mercy of the howling storm of colors and sounds around them.
Theodore could barley make out a faint line of grey houses below them, none of which were made of wood, no farms, no fields, a green patch that might be a park…
Closer and closer
Then Theodore felt the now familiar slowing sensation, half supported by the wind.
He continued to plummet toward the earth.
This was it for sure. There was no escape; no way would he was going to survive this time, with the added weight of his passenger to increase the speed of their dive, even if they had slowed a little.
All at once, one roof separated itself from amid all the mangled grey and black.
What appeared to be the only wooden roof within seeing distance.
Even when hurtling to his death, drowning in pain, and dragging an innocent victim with him Theodore could not help but think that that roof had a strange familiarity to it…
Five seconds until both he and the world’s greatest detective would die, if the latter weren’t dead already
Four seconds: poor Watson would never recover
Three seconds: what about Mycroft? Oh God.
Two seconds: at least death would be quick if not painless – for both of them.
One second: I’m so, so sorry Holmes
Holding tight to his companion Theodore felt his body hit the wooden shingles, welcoming his death with literally open arms.
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