Aylia Holmes

20. Concluding the Case

"Where is she?" Sherlock demanded the moment the door to Elwin's flat opened.

"In here," he said hoarsely.

Sherlock rushed ahead of him to find Aylia laying on the large, richly decorated bed looking paler than normal, but still very much alive. A young woman was tending to her, checking her heartbeat and looking after her to the best of her ability.

"How is she?" Sherlock asked.

"Stable, sir," the woman replied, not looking up. "The wound hit no major arteries or organs, so aside from some major scarring, she will be perfectly all right."

"Thank you," Sherlock said.

With a nod, Elwin dismissed her to take a break as he approached, perching on the edge of the mattress and taking Aylia's hand into his own.

"You didn't tell Mycroft she's here?" Elwin asked.

"No," Sherlock replied. "He wants to pressure her into a marriage, a marriage I can guarantee she doesn't want. I will protect her from him in every way I can."

Elwin nodded, not looking up from her beautiful face.

"May I ask you something?" Elwin asked.

"Only if I may return it with a question of my own," Sherlock replied.

Elwin hesitated a moment before he asked, "How did Mycroft end up how he is? I mean...Enola solves mysteries and knows martial arts. Ayla is smart as a tack and is probably the kindest and most brave person I've ever known. And you are, well, you. How did Mycroft come from the same..."

He broke off, unsure as to how exactly to end his question.

"There is no clear cause or reason," Sherlock replied with a shrug. "We are born with basic temperaments already, but the way we are raised affects those temperaments and makes us into who we become. Mycroft just has a very different temperament than the rest of us." After a short pause, he said, "Now for my question and answer me plainly. Do you have affection for my sister, affection surpassing general fondness?"

Elwin glanced over at him before he admitted, "Yes."

"Then let me give you some advice," Sherlock said, approaching him. "Aylie is patient and loving and kind, but she is also incredibly sensitive. And despite her hesitation to marry, she wants it. I would even hazard a guess that she wants it badly. Marriage, if nothing else, provides stability, someone not only to rely on but to go through life with. If you do not mean for your relationship to become anything more than it is now, end it before she becomes more attached. If you string her along, you will destroy her, and brotherly obligation might force me to murder you."

Elwin barely restrained a smile as he glanced up at him.

"I'm not stringing her along, I promise," he said. "I love Ayla, and I want to marry her one day. I don't want her to feel rushed or pressured, and honestly...I need to figure my own life out a bit. But for all I know, I'm meant to do that with her at my side."

"Then perhaps tell her that, exactly that," Sherlock said. Then, giving one last look at his sister, he kissed her forehead and disappeared out the door.

When he had gone, Elwin raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, his lips lingering before he lowered her hand again, raising his own to brush a stray hair from her face. As his hand left her, she drew in a long breath, her brows furrowing slightly as her eyes squinted the tiniest bit. Then, with a pained groan, she opened her eyes.

"Elwin?" she said groggily.

"Hey, I'm here," he said gently, cupping her cheek. "I'm here. You're all right."

"What happened?" she asked.

"After you were hurt, Enola saved the day," Elwin said in a soft voice so as not to disturb her head much. "He hit his head on the way down and bled out. As it turns out it was my grandmother trying to kill Louis and later me. But she's been taken care of, now."

"And Enola? Is she all right?" Aylia asked.

"She's perfectly all right," Elwin assured. "She's come to see you, as has Sherlock, but don't worry. Mycroft has no idea where you are."

"Thank god," she muttered, attempting to sit up.

Before she had quite made it, she hissed, clutching her side as Elwin gently forced her back down.

"You're still healing, Ayla," he said gently. "Take it easy."

"That's not exactly my style," she replied, although she did settle back into the pillows without complaint.

Smiling, Elwin said, "It is right now."

Aylia chuckled, breaking off halfway through with a pained wince, but the next moment she looked back up at him with a bright smile.

Cupping her cheek, Elwin said, "I love you, Ayla."

Her smile seemed to melt slightly into a deeper one as a faint blush spread across her cheeks and she said, "I love you too, Elwin."

Hesitating a moment, Elwin leaned forward, pressing his lips to her own. Pulling away, he pressed his forehead to her own.

"Marry me, Ayla," he whispered, keeping his eyes closed.

"What?" Aylia replied, opening her eyes and smiling wider.

"Marry me," Elwin whispered again, his voice softer as he met her gaze.

"Yes," Aylia replied softly, moving a curl out of his face. "I'll marry you, Elwin."