Death by Misadventure
2/?
Rachel was on her way home, and for some reason she had to return to the scene of the crime. Her head still spun with the grief of finding out her brother was making drugs and had somehow managed to blow himself up. It didn't seem right, but nothing had seemed right since the night of the car accident. Rachel gave herself a mental shake. The past was the past, she had to deal with the now.
She was surprised to see lights flashing at the bomb site, and even more surprised to see a bunch of men in white decontamination suits scramble over the wreckage. Like so many nosy neighbours she waited at the end of the cordon and peered around the police cars to get a better look.
"Aren't you Rachel Templeton?"
Rachel blinked in shock at the handsome man in front of her. Dusty blonde hair, jumper, jeans. She frantically tried to recall if she knew him, he must've seen her distress because he jumped in.
"My name is John Watson, and we haven't met before. I work with Inspector Lestrade and I was one of the doctors on the scene after the bomb blast. I live right around the corner. How's your head?"
"It's fine, thank you. My ears still ring now and then but I've been told its normal."
"Well if it persists, you'll have to have it checked out. I hope your ears don't have any permanent damage."
"Thanks. Why is the police back, do you know?"
"Oh, they found some new evidence around the back of the building. What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to swing by. Apparently my brother…" Rachel's voice cracks " was one of the people who made the erm… "
"Responsible for the explosion?"
"Yes. I just can't make peace with the fact that he was involved with this sort of thing. Drugs had destroyed our family, and he was someone to stay far away from trouble. He was a student at King's College, he was studying history…" Rachel bites her lip to stop her from crying.
"I'm sorry for your loss." John looks around helplessly, not knowing what to do with a weeping female. A tissue is fished out of a pocket and Rachel noisily blows her nose.
"I'm sorry, I'm not a usually a waterpot. It's just been a bit much to take in."
"Look, it's quite alright. Is there anything I can do? Any way I can help?"
"I don't know. I just wish I knew why Paul was involved with this sort of thing."
Just then a shout rang out from the men in the white suits, all of them scrambling over the rubble
"Everybody down!"
Rachel barely had time to process what they said when a shockwave knocked her down for the second time in a week. Bits of brick and plaster rained on her but it was only when she opened her eyes that she realised that John had pushed her down onto the ground and was covering her with his body. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders and she was arrested by the sight of his blue eyes anxiously peering at her face.
"You ok?"
She nodded and said a little too loudly "I'm fine"
"Don't worry; the ringing is probably a bit louder now, yeah?"
Rachel nodded.
"It'll go away in time, but when you stop hearing anything at all, let me know."
John helped her up and was looking around and Rachel was surprised by a tall dark haired man who strolled across to them. Not a spec of dust on his coat, confidence in his step and for some reason Rachel felt like a bug under a microscope when he turned his gaze on her.
"Seems like they found a hidden one this time."
"Another bomb? Shit, Sherlock, how many of the damn things are there?"
"Bomb? What bomb?" Rachel was confused.
"I'm sorry Miss… ?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows.
"Templeton, Rachel Templeton. She was lady who walked away from last week's explosion."
"Any reason why you came past again Miss Templeton?"
"I… I… my brother. He also died in the explosion. I only found out today. I… " Rachel had to bite back the tears again. A handkerchief appeared before she could dig around for another tissue and she looked at the tall man that John had called Sherlock with suspicion.
"It's clean, I promise. Was your brother one of the people in the apartment above?" Sherlock looked around absently, peering at the police officers frantically shooing away public and media from the police cordon.
"No, he… they say that he… I don't believe it… but they say he was one of the people making the drugs." Tears silently rolled down her check and Rachel was surprised when she felt a sting on one cheek. She dabbed the hanky on her face and was surprised when she saw dried blood.
"It's just a shallow cut, not at all like last time." John assured her.
"Last time? "
"I was the nearest doctor, first person on the scene after the previous blast to provide medical care. We can talk about it later Sherlock." John shot Sherlock a death glare.
"Why don't you believe your brother was one of the manufacturers?"
"I… " Rachel looked around her in shock. Everything was crumbling down around her, chaos reigned and she realised too late that the last thing she ate was a piece of toast more than 10 hours ago. She did the only thing she didn't want to. She fainted.
"Rachel, can you hear me?" John tapped her lightly on wrist and watched as colour returned to her face. He mentally kicked himself for not realising that she would probably collapse with everything that had happened to her, but at least he had caught her before her head hit ground. The last thing she needed was concussion.
"Rachel, we need to get you up and take you somewhere else. The bomb squad has decided that they need go over the place a bit more carefully. Can I take you home?" John used her momentary confusion to take her pulse. A bit weak, but he was sure it would come back strong.
"Home? I… I live more than an hour away. "
"Then we'll simply let you rest at our place, won't we John?" Sherlock neatly grabbed her arm and with the gentlest of pressures starting guided her down the street. Rachel glanced around and wondered if she should scream, wondered if she was being kidnapped, wondered what would happen to her now. Before they exited the police cordon completely a smart looking man with tired eyes approached them.
"Oh God, what are you two doing here?"
"Evening, Lestrade. Didn't Anderson tell you that John made the call about the bombs?"
"No, he just said we got an anonymous tip. I should've known you two would be involved. Who's this you're escorting from the scene?"
"Rachel Templeton. She's had a bit of a shock".
"Brother of Paul? I'm sorry for your loss. Did you get to speak with Quin at the station?"
Rachel dumbly nodded. Her legs still felt weak and she didn't trust her voice just yet.
"I'm sorry that we can't stay Detective Inspector, but as you can see Rachel has had a trying day and John was just about to feed her some sweet tea, weren't you John?"
"Oh yes, absolutely. Best thing to do after a shock like this."
Lestrade looked at them dubiously, until he sighed and rubbed his neck. He desperately wanted some painkillers.
"Ms Templeton, please don't leave town for the next few days. One of my officers will be in contact with you to talk some more about your brother." Lestrade nodded once to them and then strode off, shouting something at a man in a white biohazard suit. Rachel shuddered at the thought of having to enter the building again and was strangely comforted by being held up by the two men on either side of her.
The walk to their flat in Baker Street proved to be uneventful. Most of the foot traffic seemed to be going in the direction of the blast, not away, proving that people's curiosity outweighs their common sense. When they finally stepped into the small apartment Rachel gratefully sank into a small leather chair.
It was soft and comfortable and smelled of home. Rachel closed her eyes for just a second to appreciate the feeling and when she reopened them, John was in front of her again, feeling her wrist.
"You must've popped off for a second there. I brought you some tea. I guessed you would like it with milk and sugar."
Rachel grimaced. It had been years since she's had any sugar but it seemed like a good idea. The tea burned on its way down, making her eyes water in sympathy. John stepped away after he saw her taking the first sip and headed back to the kitchen.
"Ms Templeton."
Rachel looked around until she saw Sherlock sprawled across his sofa. How such a tall man could fit on such a couch made her mind boggle. She hoped he was comfortable.
"Why do you think your brother wasn't involved manufacturing drugs?"
"Is there a reason for you to be interested in this?" She hit back. The situation was spiralling more and more out of control and the last thing she wanted was some strangers prying into her family business.
John sat in the chair opposite her with another cup of tea. She would bet his didn't have any sugar.
"Ms Templeton, Rachel, Sherlock and I often assist the police in their cases. The chances are very good that we will be called in to help with this case. The more you can tell us now, the more it could help us later on. People do tend to forget traumatic events and we want a complete a picture as possible."
"I have to disagree with you there" Rachel whispered. "I wish I could forget. I pray I can forget."
"That you can forget what?" Sherlock glanced at her intently. "Obviously you aren't talking about tonight or what happened to you last week."
"How do you know?"
John sighed and sat back and hoped that this wouldn't distress Rachel anymore than it had to.
"Your skin is tired and there are dark blue circles under your eyes, showing that you haven't slept properly for a long time. Your nails are bitten down to the quick, which might be habit but I am guessing is an outlet for your anxieties. You have a locket with a black and white photo of a couple, I am guessing to be your parents, who I am pretty sure are dead. Your favour you left leg slightly which makes me think that you were in some sort of accident but never seeked professional help with rehabilitation and you have scars on your wrists consistent with someone who attempted suicide. "
Rachel felt all blood leave her face. "How did you …" she glanced down and angrily pulled her jumper sleeves down to cover her arms. "that has noting to do with what happened to Paul. That was a long, long time ago."
"Why wouldn't Paul be involved in the manufacture of methamphetamines?"
"Because he wouldn't. He knew what the effects were, he knew how it destroyed lives. It destroyed our family."
John looked at Sherlock, pleading with his eyes to ease off. He could read the signs and knew that Rachel was at the end of her rope.
"My father… found me after I cut myself. I was half dead and my parents didn't want to wait for an ambulance. They loaded me in their car and drove me to hospital and on the way there, a kid hopped up on ice skipped a traffic light and ploughed into our car. My parents died on impact. I was the lucky one."
Rachel took another sip of the tea. The temperature was more bearable now, and she greedily drank half the mug before looking up at John. She waiting to see the disgust in his eyes, the disgust she felt for herself every day. There was only pity and concern and that made it worst.
"Did you brother owe anyone any money? Was he involved in any radical groups? Had a grudge against any one?"
"I… am not sure about his finances. After the accident we lost touch and he hadn't approached me for money. As for the rest, he was a pretty mild person, I would've been surprised if he was even interested in politics."
"But he studied history?"
"Political Islam. He wanted to work in Intelligence, and it seemed to be an area where knowledge was needed. "
"Smart boy."
Rachel nodded. "He was smart, very much so. My father idolised him, and ensured that he had the best of everything. He… Paul didn't take the death of his number one fan very well. I think if he could've found a way to track down every person involved in some way in the drugs business he would've. What he would've done then, I have no idea. "
It was quiet then, with only the sound of a faraway ambulance making its way across London. Gradually other city sounds filtered through, cars, taxis, people, dogs. Normal life. Something that Rachel knew she didn't have, couldn't have.
"I need to go home, thank you for the cup of tea." She smiled weakly at John, grimaced at Sherlock and moved to get her coat. "Where is the nearest tube station?"
"You're catching the tube at 2am? Are you serious?" John looked at her with wide eyes
"I don't have enough on me for a cab fare and that is the best way home, so yes" she snapped.
"Oh for goodness sake, just take the couch. You've just had a massive shock and fainted twice in the last couple of hours. It is my medical opinion that you should stay right where you are for at least another 12 hours. I'll get you a blanket".
Rachel wanted to argue, but the thought of leaving the apartment, trudging through the city and dealing with the denizens of the night made her even more tired.
"I wouldn't argue with him if I were you" Sherlock piped in. "He get's annoyed if he can't play knight in shining armour."
That's how Rachel ended up spending the night in Baker Street and how she managed to survive the night. Because the next morning, she was greeted with the news her apartment had been blown up.