JWP16: Cold
Jul. 16th, 2018 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sherlockian_synThis drabble was written for Day 16 of the ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
watsons_woes July Writing Prompts challenge.
Musical Prompt. "Cold" (instrumental for violin and piano) by Jorge Méndez. Listen here.
Rain. Cold. Wet. Shot. Bullet. Blood. So much blood. Jane’s eyes falling shut. The ambulance leaving. Riding in Gretchen’s police car to St. Barts.
Cold.
“Oi, Shirl. You want a smoke?”
Shirley opened her eyes, felt the sharp air in her aching lungs, listened to the sound of the rain as it fell. Another grey, rainy autumn day in London.
But this one felt so much worse.
She glanced to her left, saw Gretchen standing beside her and offering a cigarette from the few remaining in the pack. She looked tired.
“I thought you quit.”
Gretchen chuckled. “This is my emergencies only pack. Figured we could both use one after the last few hours.”
Shirley took a cigarette, and held still as Gretchen lit it for her.
“What have you heard?” Gretchen asked, watching Shirley closely as she took a long drag. She then followed suit and lit up her own cigarette.
“She’s in stable condition. Lost a lot of blood, though.” Shirley willed her voice not to crack as she spoke the words.
“They’re top notch here at Barts. I’m sure she’ll be fine in no time.”
“Perhaps.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Instead, they smoked their cigarettes and watched the rain continue to fall.
“Look, Shirl.”
Shirley shook her head. “Don’t start, Gretchen.”
“I just want to know what happened. This isn’t even in any official capacity. I’m asking because Jane’s my friend, and like it or not, you’re my friend too.”
“We were chasing a suspect. He had a gun on him. He shot Jane in the stomach, and then he got away.”
“Is this the guy I heard Jane warn you about?” Gretchen flicked her cigarette butt toward the parking lot, then stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat.
“Yes,” Shirley whispered.
“What was that?” Gretchen asked, her voice growing louder.
“Yes, Gretchen. This is the man that Jane warned me about. She told me if we found him, he’d probably be armed and we shouldn’t go at it alone. I was wrong. Is that what you want me to say?”
“No, I just want to hear you show some bloody remorse for the fact that your partner is in the hospital with a gut wound because you acted like a twat -”
“She jumped in front of me, Gretchen.”
Gretchen didn’t say anything more and turned away from Shirley.
“She jumped in front of me. I was the one who should have been shot. I’m the one who should be lying in that hospital bed.” Shirley’s voice began to crack and falter.
“You’re right. You should be,” Gretchen turned back toward her. “But you’re not. You’re here with me. And now all you can do is try to make it right.”
Shirley dramatically flailed her arms about in frustration. “How? How do I make this right? I can’t go back in time and push her out of the way instead!”
Gretchen grabbed Shirley by the shoulders and forced her to make eye contact with her.
“What you can do, Shirl, is think long and hard about why Jane would do something like this. Why would she risk her life for yours? And once you know the answer to that, use that information and act accordingly.”
Shirley nodded.
“Alright then. I’m going back inside. I’ve got people on the streets looking for him. That may not seem like much to you, but I’ll let you know when we find the bastard.”
Gretchen pulled open the door to go back inside St. Barts. “And don’t stay out here too much longer, you’ll catch a bloody cold.”
Shirley watched the door close behind Gretchen. She turned up the collar of her coat and tucked her chin close to her chest.
I’m in love with you even though I know I shouldn’t be, because this isn’t your area.
She heard Jane’s words echo inside her mind, over and over again. Shirley saw a choice in front of her, one that she didn’t want to make, but knew that now was the time to make it.
Shirley could walk out into the rain, hail a cab, go back to 221B, and wait to see if Jane chose to come home or send movers for her things.
Or she could go back into the hospital, knowing that something inside of her was fundamentally shifting, like a key sliding into the lock that was her heart, and bit by bit, the tumblers were cranking open. And maybe love did live inside of her, love for a woman that thought nothing of risking everything to protect Shirley of all people.
I love you, Shirl.
Shirley turned and went inside the hospital, determined to spend every waking moment by Jane’s side while she recovered.
watsons_woes July Writing Prompts challenge.Musical Prompt. "Cold" (instrumental for violin and piano) by Jorge Méndez. Listen here.
Rain. Cold. Wet. Shot. Bullet. Blood. So much blood. Jane’s eyes falling shut. The ambulance leaving. Riding in Gretchen’s police car to St. Barts.
Cold.
“Oi, Shirl. You want a smoke?”
Shirley opened her eyes, felt the sharp air in her aching lungs, listened to the sound of the rain as it fell. Another grey, rainy autumn day in London.
But this one felt so much worse.
She glanced to her left, saw Gretchen standing beside her and offering a cigarette from the few remaining in the pack. She looked tired.
“I thought you quit.”
Gretchen chuckled. “This is my emergencies only pack. Figured we could both use one after the last few hours.”
Shirley took a cigarette, and held still as Gretchen lit it for her.
“What have you heard?” Gretchen asked, watching Shirley closely as she took a long drag. She then followed suit and lit up her own cigarette.
“She’s in stable condition. Lost a lot of blood, though.” Shirley willed her voice not to crack as she spoke the words.
“They’re top notch here at Barts. I’m sure she’ll be fine in no time.”
“Perhaps.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Instead, they smoked their cigarettes and watched the rain continue to fall.
“Look, Shirl.”
Shirley shook her head. “Don’t start, Gretchen.”
“I just want to know what happened. This isn’t even in any official capacity. I’m asking because Jane’s my friend, and like it or not, you’re my friend too.”
“We were chasing a suspect. He had a gun on him. He shot Jane in the stomach, and then he got away.”
“Is this the guy I heard Jane warn you about?” Gretchen flicked her cigarette butt toward the parking lot, then stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat.
“Yes,” Shirley whispered.
“What was that?” Gretchen asked, her voice growing louder.
“Yes, Gretchen. This is the man that Jane warned me about. She told me if we found him, he’d probably be armed and we shouldn’t go at it alone. I was wrong. Is that what you want me to say?”
“No, I just want to hear you show some bloody remorse for the fact that your partner is in the hospital with a gut wound because you acted like a twat -”
“She jumped in front of me, Gretchen.”
Gretchen didn’t say anything more and turned away from Shirley.
“She jumped in front of me. I was the one who should have been shot. I’m the one who should be lying in that hospital bed.” Shirley’s voice began to crack and falter.
“You’re right. You should be,” Gretchen turned back toward her. “But you’re not. You’re here with me. And now all you can do is try to make it right.”
Shirley dramatically flailed her arms about in frustration. “How? How do I make this right? I can’t go back in time and push her out of the way instead!”
Gretchen grabbed Shirley by the shoulders and forced her to make eye contact with her.
“What you can do, Shirl, is think long and hard about why Jane would do something like this. Why would she risk her life for yours? And once you know the answer to that, use that information and act accordingly.”
Shirley nodded.
“Alright then. I’m going back inside. I’ve got people on the streets looking for him. That may not seem like much to you, but I’ll let you know when we find the bastard.”
Gretchen pulled open the door to go back inside St. Barts. “And don’t stay out here too much longer, you’ll catch a bloody cold.”
Shirley watched the door close behind Gretchen. She turned up the collar of her coat and tucked her chin close to her chest.
I’m in love with you even though I know I shouldn’t be, because this isn’t your area.
She heard Jane’s words echo inside her mind, over and over again. Shirley saw a choice in front of her, one that she didn’t want to make, but knew that now was the time to make it.
Shirley could walk out into the rain, hail a cab, go back to 221B, and wait to see if Jane chose to come home or send movers for her things.
Or she could go back into the hospital, knowing that something inside of her was fundamentally shifting, like a key sliding into the lock that was her heart, and bit by bit, the tumblers were cranking open. And maybe love did live inside of her, love for a woman that thought nothing of risking everything to protect Shirley of all people.
I love you, Shirl.
Shirley turned and went inside the hospital, determined to spend every waking moment by Jane’s side while she recovered.
