So basically this is just more of a realistic take on girl-falling-into-Sherlock-series. I do love these pre-cog stories and tend to gravitate towards them… But I have a hard time reading ones that aren't very realistic ( don't get me wrong, I do love the silly ones too!) so I thought..why don't I write one?

XXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxXXXXX

I blinked my eyes a few times to adjust to being a part of the waking world and realized several things.

First, I was laying down on cold cement and not in my own bed. Second, I was cold. Freezing in fact. Last, I had no idea why I was laying on such a hard surface freezing to death.

I shivered as I pulled myself into a seated position and looked around as I rubbed my bare arms.

Where am I?

I started to breath faster as panic settled in.

What the heck am I doing in a small concrete room? Was I kidnapped? Am I going to be sold into slavery?

The imagined scenarios in my head started to get progressively worse as I started to take in my surroundings.

I turned to look behind me and nearly screamed as I scrambled away from a body. A dead body, from the looks of it, as it was in the middle of a pool of blood.

My adrenaline fueled body immediately took in the knife imbedded in the chest of the man. Man? Yes, man. Not a woman. And..

Blood. So much blood.

I gagged and looked away before I could register exactly how much damage was inflicted on him to cause so much blood.

Oh my word, I'm freaking out and he might still be alive!

I pushed down my nausea and crawled toward him and checked his neck for a pulse. Even before I could properly gauge where his artery was I knew that he was dead. His icy blue eyes stared vacantly up and his face was completely blank. The spike of adrenaline in my body made everything seem crystal clear yet at the same time I had trouble figuring out what to do next.

So this is what a dead body looks like. I thought numbly.

I leaned away from him and started to shake. I had to grit my teeth together to stop them from shattering themselves against each other.

Ohmanohmanohman. I need to calm down. Breath, breath, breeeeeath deep, breath in, exhale out. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

Some part of my brain informed me that I was probably going into shock and needed to get somewhere where I could call for help.

Get up, get out and get help. I stood up shakily and wobbled my way to a open door and started making my way down the steps.

Definitely not a dream or a prank show. I though to myself as I made it to the base of the stairs to another door that led to the outside.

I started down the alley way towards the sound of cars picking up speed as I went, my jaw clenched the whole way, and finally reached the cobbled street.

Wait..cobbled? No, doesn't matter, GET HELP.

With a small sob of relief, I rounded the corner and smacked right into a flash of blond hair and-

"Woah there, are you alright?"

I sagged a bit unsteady on my feet and looked up straight into concerned blue eyes. He held me steady with both arms as I tried to point back at the alley I just came out of.

"Help, please help." I tried to steady myself and breathed in to stop from sobbing the words out.

It was only then that I noticed that the hand I was trying to point down the alley with was covered in blood. That is so gross, I thought numbly, must have happened when I tried to check that guys pulse. Should I worry about blood borne pathogen's?

"Are you hurt?" His voice was serious but gentle, "I'm a doctor."

A quiet rational part of my brain registered that he had a cool British accent while another part of my brain was simply concerned about whether or not I would get AIDs from being exposed to blood. I swallowed and managed to string together words.

"There's a guy...back there...in a building. He's dead. Knife in his chest. Lotsa blood." I managed out in a trembling voice.

I looked up at the kind British doctor and anchored myself in his blue eyes. I barely registered him telling the collecting crowd to call the police.

This shouldn't be happening. This is what happens in movies, not to real people! Is this going to scar me for life? What the heck is going on?

"My name is Dr. John Watson, what's your name?" He cut into my thoughts as he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around me.

"Becca Singer" I replied automatically, trying wrap myself further into his coat for warmth.

"Becca, are you hurt anywhere?" He asked me gently as he looked me over trying to determine if the blood on my hands was mine.

"No...at least, I don't think so.." I slowly shook my head as I tried to analyze how I was feeling physically and we both looked down to my feet.

In my hurry to get away from the building and find help, I never realized I was barefoot. Barefoot and bleeding from several small cuts.

In fact, I wasn't wearing much of anything except for my pajama shorts and the t-shirt I wore to bed.

No wonder I was cold.

Well, that and the shock.

"Ok, lets have you sit down while we wait for the police" he said as he guided me down to sit down on the sidewalk.

The next few minutes passed in a blur with me barely registering the British guy talking on his phone and him carefully cleaning the cuts on my foot. I could barely hear him start to ask me questions as I started to go full on into shock.

My mom is going to freak out when she finds out all of this. I wonder if I'll be in the news. Huh, this'll be a story I'll tell my grandkids about-

I jerked and hissed through my teeth as I was suddenly aware of the doctor as he cleaned a especially deep cut on the bottom of my foot.

I looked up and realized that while I was in my own thoughts the police had arrived. But they weren't normal police cars. The coloring was off. Blue and yellow.

What?

"Lestraude, over here!" The British doctor called out to one of the men getting out of a car.

That name sounds familiar.

"Becca? Becca, can you look at me?"

I blinked a few times and turned my head to look at him.

"Becca, this is Detective Inspecter Lestraude," He rubbed my arm supportively, "Can you tell him what you saw in the building?"

The other man walked up and gave me a grim nod and turned to the doctor.

"Is Sherlock with you?" He asked in a British accent.

What? Wait.

Am I really in so much shock that I'm imagining that I'm really hearing these names?

John Watson. Dr. John Watson. Lestraude. Detective inspector Lestraude.

They're both British.

And now the name Sherlock.

They must have seen the look on my face and thought I was about to throw up or have a panic attack. Lestraude Lestraude? backed up a few steps but John john? carefully turned me so that I could safely throw up without spewing it all over myself or anyone else.

The rational part of my brain was trying to make sense of it all in a way that would, well…make sense.

Ok, first I wake up in a unknown cold concrete room..then I find a dead body that looks like it could've been from a horror movie, and then to top it off I'm going into shock and it's making me imagine strange things…

That's it. I'm in shock. There are cases like this, right?

OOH! I get it.

Everything clicked into place

These guys are cosplaying and they think I'm part of a role-playing thing! I get it now. I must I have stumbled into a convention and this is the Sherlock group . And these guys are doing a role-playing scenario I think I'm involved as an actor!

"You don't understand! This is actually happening! There is a real dead body in that building over there!" I started getting hysterical and shoved my bloodied hands toward them as proof. "I'm not acting! We need to call the real police!"

The guy playing Lestraude crouched down and explained like he would a small child, "We are the real police."

No.

You aren't.

You're just a older weird dude great job cosplaying Lestraude.

Yes, you do look a bit like him but you're no police.

Just like the guy cosplaying John looks like John….

I noticed a tall figure come up behind the John cosplayer and took in the trenchcoat, mussed hair, and gleeful expression on his face.

"John, you said there was a murder?" There was no mistaking the look on his face for unbridled delight.

XXXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXX

Depending on if I get great responses or not I might continue this. I'm thinking of starting in season three because Mary. I love her. Drop a review!