Chapter 2- Baker Street and Housework

I must have hit my head harder than I thought, this could not be real. Any second now I would wake up and find myself sitting in a hospital bed surrounded by my family laughing at my own bizarre dreams. Closing my eyes I locked my mind on that simple thought, home. "Please, please just let me go home," I could still feel the arms carrying me and jostling with every step.

"Of course, we were simply just taking you to our place because it is a much closer walk," I could feel his voice vibrating through his chest and I closed my eyes praying to god I wasn't going insane. Trying a different tactic I clicked my heals together.

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home," once again opening my eyes and sighing in disappointment, "apparently that only works for Dorthy".

"Watson, I think she may be delusional," I could not beleive it, I was actually in the arms of Sherlock Holmes and in the presence of John Watson. This was incredible and wait a second did he just say delusional? If only he knew.

"Hey! I am most certainly not delusional, or well not in the way your meaning," the pounding in my head had lessened quite a bit and my mind was slowly starting to form connections. We had been on the bus, there was an accident and now I was here. Lights and than waking up to pain and two men whom apparently are the famous Holmes and Watson. I needed to find a way home and figure out what happened to Megan. Groaning softly it was than I realized that she could be anywhere and I needed somewhere to stay.

"We are almost at our flat Miss, just a few more blocks," looking up into the face of Watson I knew he thought I was groaning from pain, if only he knew. The streets were full of people but no one seemed to care what Holmes was doing, Watson was casually walking beside us as if he did this on countless occasions. I suppose everyone was just used to his bizarre behaviour by now and no one really questioned it. Watching the horses go by pulling wagons I realized how far back I had actually travelled and seriously hoped I wouldn't be spending too long in this version of London.

"Here we are Watson, if you would be a gentleman and open the door, that's it," turning sideways Holmes carried me through the door and up a set of stairs coming to a stop in front of what I assumed to be his room.

"Holmes, we are not going to put her in your room. Heaven knows what kind of a state it's in," feeling an exaggerated sigh, I felt rather than heard Holmes turn his head towards Watson.

"Watson, we both know that the Nanny has already done her best to ruin my room with her need to destroy me so everything will be out of place yet again," bending ever so slightly he turned the knob giving the door a light push. Walking into the room he moved towards the coach, slowly and carefully setting me down. Gasping softly at the return of pain I closed my eyes trying not to move a muscle. There were fingers once again pressing against my neck and moving down to my arms and legs. Flinching slightly when the hands reached a tender spot I felt a cold cloth put over my eyes and forehead, sighing softly I could hear the detective and doctor discussing me.

"She needs at least three days rest, she has cracked multiple ribs and I'm sure her body will be covered with bruises. I can't imagine what could have possibly have happened to lead to such injuries. They don't make sense," Watson came back towards me carefully lifting my shirt, "I need to wrap up your ribs," another set of footsteps were coming towards her.

"Well dear, I think explanations are in order don't you?" Groaning softly, I had been two seconds away from a much needed sleep.

"You won't believe me anyways," debating with myself whether or not to just tell them the truth or pretend I couldn't remember.

"You will never know what we believe if you do not tell us something," Holmes said pushing the cloth up over my eyes. Blinking a few times I let my mind wander for a minute, looking over to see Holmes sitting in a chair, his pipe sticking out of the corner of his mouth, looking back at me. Taking a deep breath I started to tell them what happened from the beginning. I had to give them credit, throughout my story they were both very good listeners even though Watson spent most of the time wrapping my ribs he occasionally asked questions and attempted to make sense of my story.

"Well than, I believe you need a place to stay and so happen to know a flat that has an extra room," Holmes stated calmly continuing to smoke from his pipe.

"Really? You actually believe everything I just told you," turning my head to get a better look at him I winced in pain forgetting that moving hurt every part of her body.

"You really need to stop moving, it's not good for your head or the other injuries you sustained," Watson instructed firmly placing a hand on my forehead to stop any further movements.

"In answer to your question, yes I do believe what you have said. Nothing about your demeanour has shown any signs of lying and your cloths are most definitely not from this time. Although I just have one more question, what is your name?" oh right.

"Karlie," turning my head ever so slightly and resting my head against the coach I let out a yawn. I felt who i suspected was Watson pull a blanket over me. Opening my eyes slowly I looked up at him offering a small smile as my lids once again fell shut.