The echoing slam of Charlotte's door was enough to indicate she wasn't up for further discussion. Sherlock simply straightened up his coat and wandered back over to the door of his own flat, his previous intentions of investigating a boring case now forgotten.
''Are you going to explain that?'' John asked, puzzled.
''Explain what?''
John scoffed, wondering if Sherlock was actually being serious with his ability to overlook everything he didn't think was important.
''What were you doing in that woman's apartment?''
''Mrs. Hudson was concerned, I was nagged into checking she wasn't dead,'' Sherlock answered, hanging up his coat and relaxing into his chair, thinking.
''Oh and you just sparked an argument with her, just like everyone else,'' John shook his head, taking his own seat.
''No, not like everyone else,''
John looked over to him expecting him to say more and Sherlock could already hear the questions he was about to ask. He always had to explain things to him which he thought were so obvious.
''The woman across the hall is here for a reason, I know how she works and I know when something isn't right,'' Sherlock explained. ''I was trying to find answers, but it seems the situation is more complex than I thought,''
Staring back at him, John had a million more questions now. Sherlock didn't have old friends, people that he could catch up or get together with, but he did have enemies. Many of them. But if this woman was an enemy, surely he would have told him by now.
''You...you know this woman?'' John pointed to the door.
''She's a dangerous woman, obviously,'' Sherlock put his hands together, his eyes narrowing as he thought out loud. ''Involved in something much more dangerous...she can't handle it. Something she hadn't encountered before,''
''How do you know her?''
''And then she came here of all places, knowing it'd make me curious, needing my help but then refusing it...'' he continued his thought. ''Oh yes, something dangerous definitely,''
''Are you even listening to me?'' John threw his hands up. ''Who is that woman and how do you know her?''
Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh and put his hands down, his thought process paused for the moment.
''A year ago I was on a case out of town. One man on the run, one chance to stop him but someone else had the same plan. I had been investigating the matter for months so one could understand my distrust of another person becoming involved. I ran into her and she made sure the suspect was...unable to escape before she handed the rest of the responsibility to me. We've crossed paths on a few occasions since then, other than that we're completely disconnected. Until now, of course,'' he explained. ''Now, onto more important-''
''So she does cases,'' John nodded, understanding. ''She's like you,''
''No. I have my methods, she has her own, we're not alike,'' Sherlock looked over to John, almost offended. ''Charlotte has a habit of getting involved in operations she's not capable of handling. Underground matters, much darker than the cases I take on,''
''So she's got more experience?''
''Of course not,'' Sherlock scoffed. ''She just finds those cases interesting for some reason. To me, there as plain as everything else in this world. Boring, really. But she is capable of taking care of herself and rarely runs away from anything, which is why the idea of her hiding is so suspicious. She's gotten into something she can't handle, I just don't know what,''
John watched Sherlock walk around the room, pacing and looking out the windows. He was thinking intensely as if he was on a big case, and then John realized that he had just found the next thing to take all of attention. He wasn't going to let whatever Charlotte was caught up in go, he was going to focus on that now, and if it was as dangerous as Sherlock was assuming, it was something to be worried about.
''You're going to help her,'' John wondered.
''I haven't made my mind up,''
It had been two days since Sherlock had been to Charlotte's apartment, and still nothing had changed. Charlotte hadn't appeared, hadn't left her flat and nothing more was said. Sherlock busied himself with experiments in the kitchen, occasionally searching for any more information he could find on the situation Charlotte was involved in, but nothing had come up yet. Whatever it was, it wasn't a public case, it was underneath the radar.
One late afternoon, Sherlock was staring at the wall in the flat covered in newspaper clippings and photos of suspects involved in cases Lestrade had told him about while John was blogging away on his laptop. The whole building was silent until the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs became apparent. They were hurried as if someone was running, and then the sound of fumbling fingers trying to unlock a door made Sherlock open the door to see what was going on. Usually when he heard footsteps on the stairs, it meant someone was coming to his door, perhaps a client, but when he looked out the door he saw Charlotte leaning against her door twisting the key.
Her fingers seemed bruised as they held the doorknob and her whole body was shaking. Fear. Sherlock hadn't even noticed she had left the building and he had been paying close attention to it over the past few days. However she did leave, and something happened.
''What are you running from?'' he asked, startling her as she finally opened the door.
Charlotte didn't answer, instead she pushed open the door and hurried into her apartment, not even bothering to shut the door. Sherlock followed out of curiosity and hopes he would get answers, watching as she walked into the bedroom and began ripping drawers and cupboards open. Everything that was inside them, she threw into a suitcase she pulled out from under the bed. Her movements were so fast, Sherlock thought whoever she was running from was already in the building, but they would have been here by now.
''What's going on?''
''Don't worry, I'm leaving,''
Sherlock walked closer to her and noticed the cuts on her hands as well. Whoever she was running from had found her somewhere tonight, and she managed to escape. He put his hand on her shoulder and made her turn to him, eyes narrowed as if he was looking for any other mark on her, but he didn't need to, the damage was obvious.
Charlotte's eyes were darkening fast, forming painful bruises, as blood trailed from her nose and lip. Yes, they had found her tonight. She had probably been hurt more over her body, but she was still full of adrenaline from the confrontation that she probably didn't even feel it just yet.
''You need to tell me what's going on,'' Sherlock told her seriously, his hand still on her shoulder.
''Oh my god,'' John's voice came from over at the door.
Charlotte's scattered belongings were forgotten about for the moment as she sat in Sherlock and John's flat. She held a small ice pack on her temple while John gathered up his medical supplies. Sherlock stood over across from her, staring, frustrated that she wasn't willing to tell him what was really going on. He would be careful, he could sort it all out, he could help her.
''This is probably going to sting,'' John warned as he dabbed a cotton ball into some antiseptic ointment.
''I need to go,'' she told him, shaking her head.
''Where?'' Sherlock spoke. ''Another city where they'll just find you again, wherever you are?''
Charlotte glared over at the man, staying where she was as John began to press the antiseptic against her lip, looking over her bruised eyes as he did so. He now believed Sherlock in regards to the dangerous things this woman was involved in. But as Sherlock had also pointed out, she could take care of herself. Enough to get back to Baker street without followers which was impressive considering the pain her body must have been in.
''You'll be running for a long time if you don't fix this,'' Sherlock added.
''I can't fix it,'' she finally answered. ''I'm a target now, I can't undo that,''
''A target to who?''
''If I tell you then you'll be a target as well,'' she shook her head.
''We're a target with you just being here,''
''No you're not. I've been here for over a week and none of them have been here,'' she explained. ''They know who you are, this is the last place they'd look for me. They're scared of you, you're too smart for them I suppose,'' she rolled her eyes before wincing at the pain in that small movement. ''They have no reason to come here,''
Sherlock knew she was telling the truth, she had no one else to trust. They wouldn't look for her here, that's why she came here. All this time, Sherlock had been protecting her without even knowing it. He had no idea that his residence would be so safe for her, for anyone really. He had clients come and go everyday, any one of them could have seen her, which explains why she didn't leave her flat. She had it all planned.
''Why did you leave tonight?'' Sherlock questioned.
Charlotte sighed, making a face that suggested she wished she didn't leave at all.
''I had one person in London that I knew, and I'd spoken of them a few times before. I thought they might have known how to get into contact with anyone who could help. But when I got there, I discovered he was no longer an ally of mine but of the others, apparently,''
''He turned on you,'' John shook his head.
''He was the bait, actually. They knew sooner or later I'd visit. I forgot I spoke of him to them, I should have known they'd remember everyone I've ever mentioned, especially around here,''
John looked over to Sherlock, worry in his eyes at the idea of whoever these people were turning up at their door considering Sherlock's connection with the woman.
''They won't,'' Charlotte answered, noticing John's expression. ''I didn't mention I knew you,''
''Good,'' Sherlock nodded. ''It'll be easier for us to play their game now,''
''It's not your game to play, just...stay out of it, I've got it,''
Sherlock looked over to her with a confused yet entertained expression.
''You do realize how stupid you sound, don't you? You can't control this, you haven't 'got this' at all! You never do. You always take action at the last second and you're too late,''
''That's me rearranging my entire plan because you got in the way, every time,'' she argued back.
John sat in the middle of the living room turning his head back and forth each time they spoke. He'd never seen Sherlock argue so casually with someone else. He argued with Mycroft and with John occasionally over stupid things, but right now it was as if he was witnessing a married couple's spat.
''Not to mention every case, even the simplest ones, you've nearly got yourself killed each time,'' Sherlock walked closer to her.
''I'm still alive aren't I?'' Charlotte raised her voice, standing up and facing him.
They stood inches apart, consumed with frustration and anger at one another, as John sat confused. It was as if they wanted to kill one another with the looks in their eyes, yet they were protecting each other at the same time. The whole argument was based on Sherlock's desire to help and Charlotte's intention to keep him safe and out of it all. It was odd for John to witness Sherlock even showing the slightest care for someone else, he knew their history was bigger than a few run-ins during some cases.
''Okay,'' John stood up, taking a deep breath. ''This isn't helping,''
''Good, because help is the last thing I want,'' she folded her arms, gasping as she applied pressure on her bruised body.
They both watched as Charlotte walked over to the door and slammed it shut behind her, making her way back to her flat and slamming that door as well. It was quite for a moment before Sherlock groaned loudly, running his fingers through his hair angrily. John didn't expect him to walk off to his room and slam the door like Charlotte, but that's exactly what he did.
John was then left in the living room alone, looking around and trying to process what he had just witnessed in such little time.
''I'm surrounded by children,''
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. A lot more will probably happen next chapter, more details and stuff coming out. Anyway, it'd be awesome if you guys could review and let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it :) Thanks for reading
