Disclaimer; I do not own Sherlock, or any of its characters.
Appearances by Lestrade, Sherlock, and John.
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We continued up the stairs, my head getting heavier with every step. I just wanted to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Sadly, John would not allow that.
'Nope, sorry, Vera. No sleep for you. Don't want you slipping into a coma.' He warned as he gently shook me out of my haze.
When we reached the top of the steps, John put me down and opened the door.
'Sherlock? Lestrade? Could I get some help here?' He called out.
'In here, John.' A low, smokey voice rang back.
He sighed and turned to me.
'C'mon, we have some...things to sort out.' He held out his hand. I took it, grateful to have something to hold on to.
We stepped inside the flat. To the left of us was the kitchen. Or, at least, I think it was the kitchen. It looked like a science lab. To the right of us was the living room. It was nice, two chairs, a couch, and a coffee table. Someone had painted a smiley face on the wall. I smiled. No sign of where the voice had come from, though. Still holding John's hand (he was texting with his other), I looked in to the kitchen/lab again. No one. I turned back to investigate the smiley face (it looked like someone had shot it several times). When I turned back around, though, I found myself staring into a man's piercing grey-blue eyes.
I screamed. I tore my hand out of John's and immediately staggered back and tripped over something. I looked down to see what I had tripped over. It was a human skull. I screamed again.
'SHERLOCK!' John screamed. 'Why the hell would you do that!'
The man replied in an extremely fast voice, his head jerking left and right ask he spoke.
'She was attacked. Raped, most likely, and mugged. Separated from her parents and worried sick about it. Mostly because she thinks she'll get in trouble and never get outside her house again. Around 15 and has been outside for about 2 hours. And I was only trying to talk to her, John.'
While I was taken aback by all this man knew about simply back looking at me for half a second, John just seemed pissed off at him.
'Since when do you care about people and their emotions?'
John made a move towards me when the other man, gently, grabbed his shoulder. His face, although already extremely pale, seemed to lose all of it's color.
'John, I did what I had to do. You know it was for the best.'
'I have no idea what you're talking about, Sherlock.' John grumbled back, taking a particular interest in the floor instead of making eye contact.
'John, you would have been killed! I wouldn'tve been able to handle that.'
'And you think you dying was any easier?'
'Well I didn't know it would affect you that much...'
Without warning, John exploded into a fit of rage.
'You didn't think? Did the great Sherlock Holmes just say he didn't think?'
'John, I-'
'HOW ELSE DID YOU EXPECT ME TO REACT? You made me watch you jump off a bloody building!'
'You don't understand, John! They would've been after you. I did this to protect you. I didn't think you would...'
'Do what, Sherlock? The same bloody way you did?'
They were screaming at each other now, and oblivious to their surroundings. Including the even newer man walking towards me. I picked myself up, being careful not to put any weight on my injured knee, and dusted myself off.
Suddenly, I felt angry. Angry at that tall man who had scared the shit out of me. Angry at John for not checking if I was okay. It was whiny, yes, but I had just been assaulted and he was shouting at his flatmate for some prank he pulled. I was almost in tears when the new man knelt down next to me.
'Well, what've we got here? You okay?' The third man asked.
'Oh I'm just jolly. Happy as a bird with a french fry.' I answered, tears and angry sarcasm dripping from every word.
I looked up at him. He was nice looking, in a way. He had slightly tanned skin, grayish-white hair, and a suit to match. He smile at me, as if he was used to sarcastic comments. Anger melted into shyness.
'Well, c'mon, I've got some questions for you. Can you walk to the couch?'
'Yeah, I got it.'
I hobbled over to the couch, avoiding John and Sherlock's screaming match, which had evolved to something about their relationship, and sat down. The man sat infront of me.
'I'm Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.' He said, getting his clip board out.
'Vera. Vera Davis.'
'Alright, Vera, what's wrong?'
'I was just seperated from my parents, mugged, abused, and possibly raped.'
Lestrade looked up.
'Well.. That's one hell of a night.'
'She's showing signs of a concussion.' John added from the kitchen as he raised a hand to silence the taller man. That only set him off more. He started yelling even louder and John ended up having to take him into the back room to finish there argument.
'Ah, well.' He smiled. 'New set of questions then, yeah?'
I nodded, suddenly feeling curious as to what they were arguing about.
I was pulled from my thoughts when Greg pulled out a new sheet of paper and asked 'And where do you live?'.
'Redwood Lake, Minnesota, in the United States of America.'
'Addr-'
'NO!' I shouted, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. Everything went quiet. 'Redwood... Redwood Falls? Yes, FALLS. Redwood Falls, Minnesota.'
Lestrade crossed out his notes and added a bunch more.
'Address?'
'1014 South 17th Street.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes.'
'Really?'
'Yes.'
'Parent's names?'
'Rachel and Andrew? No, Anthony. Rachel and Anthony Davis.'
'Siblings?'
'Alex, Charlie, and Michael.'
'What hotel are you staying at?'
I opened my eyes.
'...um, I don't really know.' I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
'S'alright, love. Do you-'
'ASK HER THE DIGITS OF PI.' John yelled from the back room.
'Digits of pi?' Lestrade repeated.
'3.14159267. That's all the farther I can get.'
'President of the United States?'
'Barack Odama.'
'Try again?'
'Barack Obama.'
'Right, what's the date today?'
'Today is June 14, 2012'
'S'actually the 15th, but that's alright.' He smiled, finishing up the notes on his clipboard. 'Now, what's happened to you tonight?'
'Well.. I was walking back to my hotel with my parents after the games. I got distracted and-'
'By what?' A deep voice interrupted.
I looked up to see that the man who was fighting with John. The man they called Sherlock. He was a few feet away from me, now sipping tea John had made him. Odd. I hadn't even noticed them.
'I was looking at the stars.'
He scoffed. 'You don't look like much a star gazer.'
'I'm not.'
'Then why be bothered with them?'
'I was bored.' I smirked.
He smirked back.
'Sherlock, please. Just let me finish asking her questions.'. Lestrade interrupted. 'She's obviously concussed, confused and scared.'
'Oi! I'm not a five year old!' I shot at him, shyness evaporated into burning hot anger within seconds.
'Vera, calm down. Lestrade is going to help you.' John breathed, walking towards the living room.
'Fine.' I huffed. 'What else do you need to know?'
'Describe what happened to you tonight. In full detail, please.' Sherlock asked before Lestrade could utter a word.
In excruciating detail that I have already told and don't wish to repeat, I told them about the man who had robbed, and probably raped me, and how I got here. When I was finished, Sherlock smiled.
'Americans, always being so aggressive.'
I smirked again.
I told Lestrade about my parents, how I couldn't remember my hotel, and gave him all the phone numbers I had.
'Alright, don't worry, Vera. We'll get you back to your parents by tomorrow for sure.' He nodded towards me and gave me a small, rather sympathetic, smile.
'Thank you, sir.' I nodded back.
He took John and Sherlock into the kitchen, as if that would block me from seeing and hearing them. I watched then from the couch.
'Sherlock, Watson,' he whispered.' you do realize she has no where to stay, right?'
'Of course she does.' Sherlock answered.
'Where?' Lestrade asked.
'We have a couch, don't we?'
'But Sherlock-'
'I do believe that John and I are fully capable of taking care of one teenager for a night.'
'John?' Lestrade sighed.
'Fine by me.' I could practically see his hands fly up in a way that said 'I do not care about your dispute with Sherlock, I just want to make sure this girl is fine.'
'Fine. I'll go find her parents. John, take care of her leg and head and find someone who can sort out the rape business. Sherlock...let her sleep. Please.' Lestrade instructed. Sherlock wasn't listening.
'Yes, Lestrade. Now, if you want to keep your wife, I suggest you get home before she has another affair with the gym teacher.'
Lestrade turned on his heel and stormed out.
'Why?' John asked quietly.
'Joking. It was a joke, John.' Sherlock dragged on. 'Besides, this time it's with the Librarian.'
I giggled. Both of them looked over at me. Sherlock smiled. John sighed.
'Well, it looks like we get to be parents for a day.' Sherlock said, still smiling brightly. 'Wonderful things, teenagers are. Bursting with energy, always bored. Do you get bored, Vera?'
'All the time.'
'Wonderful. Glad to see you two are bonding.' John interjected. 'But I need to check your head out.'
'Oh yeah..' I mumbled
'Sherlock, I need you to run to the store quick and get a cheap knee brace. Probably only about £6.'
'But-'
'Now, Sherlock.'
'Fine..' Sherlock grumbled as John sat infront of me.
'How many fingers?' He said, holding up his hand.
'Three.'
'Good. Now follow my finger but don't move your head.'
'Okay.'
'Good! Now, are you nauseous or dizzy at all?'
'Both, and very much so.'
'Right. Well it seems like just a mild concussion,' he said, feeling the top of my skull with his fingers. 'Does it hurt when I push down?'
'Just in the back, a little. Right-' I winced. 'there.'
'Well, I don't think too much damage has been done. Just get lots of rest and stay off of that leg.' He smiled.
'Thank you, sir.' I said, smiling back.
'Right, well, I think you can use Sherlock's room for the night, he rarely sleeps in there anyway.'
The door slammed. John sighed.
'Well, it's true!' He yelled after Sherlock.
'Oh, I'm fine on the couch, really.'
'Oh no, no. You're sleeping in a proper bed, young lady.'. He said as he scooped me up from the couch. I winced as my knee popped.
'And as for your knee, I think it's just bruised. ' He said as he carried me into a small bedroom. 'Just stay off it, wear a brace, and you should be fine.' He smiled down at me. I tried to smile back, but sleep was overtaking me.
'Could I...have, have some tea?' I asked when John set me down on Sherlock's bed.' I've never had traditional British tea.'
'Aaaalright. I'll make you some.' He said smiling, pulling the duvet up around me. 'I'll be right back.'
'You remind me of my dad, Mr. Watson.' I blurted out before he could leave.
'Do I? That's odd.' He said, leaning in the doorway.
'It's just the way you take care of people. I mean, you barely know me and you're tucking me in in your boyfriend's bed. You must have kids then, yeah?'
'No, no kids for me-Hey, hang on! We are not a couple!'
'Oh yes you are.' I said, waving it off. 'So tell me, Mr. Watson-'
'John's fine, thanks.'
'John, why are you so...parent-like towards people?'
'Just the way I was raised, I guess. Plus I have to take of Sherlock now, after-'
'JOHN!' Sherlock roared, slamming the door.
'Speak of the Devil.' He said, his warm and comforting smile now gone and replaced by a worn and tired look.
'I'll be right back,' John said, ducking out into the hallway.
I was asleep within seconds.
