Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock.
Rain
Ch.4 Flight (Part 1)
John spends the first day coming to his decision and, in a sudden fit of enthusiasm, chooses to blatantly disregard the logistical aspects of his idea and just go for it. He spends the second day cleaning the entire flat, trying to make it presentable to potential future tenants. There is a painful twist in his gut as he thinks of Mrs Hudson, but John soldiers on. He is still unable to touch – let alone shift and clean up – Sherlock's belongings, so he decides to leave them be. They are no longer his problem nor concern.
It is during the third day that John begins to falter. The flat is spotless, sans the litter of Sherlock's things. He cannot remember the last time he had cleaned it with such vigour. John finds himself in the midst of packing a duffel bag for travelling when he suddenly stops.
Reality hits home as it dawns on him what he is doing. Tendrils of doubt begin to creep into his mind.
He is acting on a whim, he is going to leave Baker Street, he intends to leave his life behind but he does not know where he will go, he has not given a thought to the clinic or even contacted them to resign, he doubts his bank account will be able to support him as he tries to find a new place to live and –
Three knocks sound from the front door.
John's first thought is that it is Mycroft and he growls softly before picking himself off the floor and heading downstairs. Mrs Hudson is out for the afternoon and though he is not surprised, John nevertheless feels a little unsettled. Leave it to the older Holmes to pinpoint the exact moment he decides to leave and pop by for a chat to convince him otherwise.
It takes John ten steps down the stairs before he remembers that Mycroft never knocks on the door. The government official would have simply swept his way in – in every memory where Mycroft is in the flat, John realises that he does not recall a single time he had waited outside to be allowed entrance. But if it is not Mycroft Holmes at the front door…
Hesitating slightly at the last step, John cautiously reaches for the doorknob. Taking in a deep breath, not knowing who he will see on the other side, he pulls the door open.
John goes pale.
The first time he lays eyes on her, she is bleeding out next to a burning building.
Blood soaks her entire torso, streaming down from two deep gashes in her back, staining her white long-sleeved shirt a crimson red. Her white long skirt does not seem able to last much longer either, not from the way she stumbles about in the rain and mud, trying to put distance between herself and the blazing heat from the fire.
It does not take a genius to realise that the girl needs immediate medical attention, so John – university student, doctor-in-training – pushes his way through the crowd of curious onlookers from where he has been observing the paramedics work and rushes towards the dark alley she is moving towards. As he approaches, she quickens her pace, gripping the alley walls with her bloody hands as she tries to move faster.
"Wait!" John yells after her retreating figure. "I'm not going to hurt you!"
The girl jumps slightly as she startles at his voice. Panicking, she makes to run but trips after two wobbly steps and falls to the ground with a painful gasp. She turns around and scrambles backwards as John comes nearer.
"Hey, hey it's okay… I just want to help," he soothes, slowing to a stop as he notices the terror in her face and wide eyes. The girl remains tense and still as John moves towards her and crouches down to her level, holding his umbrella over both of them.
John may not have graduated from medical school yet, but he still knows a thing or two about assessing injuries. In this case, the blood gushing out of the girl's back is definitely Not Good. She will bleed out if the flow is not stopped soon and if she is not given a transfusion. But she is afraid of him and John does not know if he can get her to trust him enough to help her. That does not mean he is not willing to try.
"Listen," he says, trying to sound comforting. "I know it hurts, but I can get you to a hospital and the doctors there will help you. There's no need to be scared, everything's going to be okay." John manages a reassuring smile, but it falters when the girl shakes her head fervently.
"I can't…" she murmurs, looking away. "I can't go to a hospital. They'll find me!"
John mentally frowns at her words. Was she a runaway? Was she hiding from the police? What if he was dealing with a criminal?
As if reading his mind, the girl shakes her head again. "I'm not a bad person," she says. "I just got… left behind." What about your parents, John wants to ask, but she cuts in with "I'll be okay. It's not so bad. See?"
At first he thinks she is referring to her situation, but then the girl turns her back slightly. John cautiously peers over and lets out an involuntary gasp, his umbrella nearly slipping out of his fingers.
The back of her shirt is torn and shredded and although there is blood staining her body and clothes from shoulder down, her back is smooth. Other than storm-black bruises covering almost half of it, there are no sign of gashes anywhere, not even scars. John cannot find any part where the skin has been broken. He blinks twice and rubs at his eyes. Could he have imagined it? Saw her torn and bloody clothes and assumed she was injured?
Under his sharp scrutiny, the girl shifts uncomfortably. Noticing her disconcertion, John quickly backs off to give her space. She makes to sit up but winces as the bruises on her back protest. The flash of pain in her eyes does not escape his watch.
"Let's get you cleaned up," the words are out of John's mouth before he even thinks about it, surprising both himself and the girl. "You don't want to go to a doctor for medical attention and I'm not about to just leave you here by yourself, especially not in your condition," he says hurriedly. "My apartment's nearby and I just got myself a freshly stocked first-aid kit. You should probably get all that blood off you before you scare someone on the streets."
The girl cracks a shy smile. "You're a doctor?" she asks.
"In-training," John smiles back. "My name's John. John Watson."
"Call me Carolyn."
During the course of the past three days, there are times when John wonders whether he had already begun to lose his mind. He questions the plea he made after waking up on the floor and struggling to find common ground between the doctor and the soldier. Could he have been so desperate to escape that he had lapsed into wishful thinking? Other times, he wonders if it had been a dream. The incident from his past justifiably seems so surreal and recalling the memory only makes him doubt himself more. John is not surprised to find that he has somewhat forgotten about the debt entirely.
But he cannot ignore the living (not really, strictly speaking) evidence standing before him. Some part of John cheers at the fact that he has not gone insane just yet, but mostly he is shocked by the confirmation. It is a pleasant shock, though John still cannot believe his eyes. The whole thing suddenly feels so surreal all over again and he is barely aware that he is gaping openly and staring with eyes so wide with disbelief.
Carolyn smiles at him with understanding, clearly seeing that there are too many thoughts and emotions swirling around in John's mind for him to form a coherent greeting. Instead, she grins and offers her hand in invitation.
"Come on, let's go for a walk."
"Welcome back, John!" chirps Carolyn, poking her head out from the kitchen as he steps through the door into his apartment.
"Hey Carolyn," John greets pleasantly, toeing off his shoes and pushing them to the side. "I bought Japanese," he says, lifting up two plastic bags with takeaway boxes inside. A bright smile lights up Carolyn's face as she goes to set the table. As John puts down the food and heads to his room to deposit his jacket and bag, he reflects on the slight turn his life had taken.
It has been two months since he met Carolyn and allowed her to stay at his apartment while she recovers and plans her next move. During that period of time, the soft-spoken Chinese girl has alternated between resting and keeping his apartment clean, despite John's gentle protests. She insists on earning her keep by playing housekeeper in exchange for food and shelter and John finds himself admiring her sense of principle as well as enjoying her company.
Carolyn keeps a tight lid on her past, clamming up whenever John's curiosity flares up and he asks about it. All he knows is that the twenty year old has a poor relationship with her family and almost no friends – apart from him – to speak of. He cannot help but feel suspicious sometimes, wondering what she is up to in the hours that he is at the university. John has no reason to suspect something is amiss since nothing strange has happened, like things disappearing from his apartment or seeing people lurking around, but his gut tells him that something about Carolyn is off. She assures him that she does not intend to stay with him indefinitely, that she still needs to do something before she can leave, but she does not say what.
John can only wonder and hope that whatever it is, it will not come back later to haunt him.
They walk leisurely on the streets of London without any particular destination in mind. No words are exchanged between them, but the silence is more companionable than awkward. John takes the time to think – he seems to be doing a lot of that recently – while Carolyn waits patiently for him to come to terms with the situation before speaking.
"Did you mean it?" she asks.
"What?" John keeps walking, but he turns slightly to face her.
"Your wish," she clarifies. "You wanted me to get you out of here. Did you mean it?"
John falters in his steps as he stares at her incredulously. "You heard me," he whispers in disbelief.
"Of course I did," Carolyn smiles knowingly. "Don't you remember? I made you a promise. It's the least I can do after what you have done for me."
Frowning, John looks away and slows to a stop. Looking worried, Carolyn stills next to him as his mind returns to the issue at hand.
"I would have come within the hour when you called me, but I thought I'd give you a few days to sort through your thoughts first," she explains. "I had to be sure you understood what you really wanted and what you were asking for."
"What are you offering?" John asks, staring determinedly ahead as he resumes walking.
"An escape," Carolyn easily recovers and quickly catches up with him.
"What do you mean?"
"I can take you away. Make you disappear."
"Where?"
"Someplace safe. Somewhere no one will find you."
"Mycroft would," John snorts.
"No he won't," Carolyn replies confidently. "Where I intend to bring you – with your consent, of course – he won't be able to even get a lead."
"Really?" he asks, turning towards her. John is fully aware of who – or rather, what – Carolyn is, so even though he knows the older Holmes is practically the embodiment of the British government itself, he allows himself to hope. But Carolyn can still see a faint trace of doubt lingering and she nods reassuringly.
"I mean it. I can erase you from the face of the Earth, make it as if you've never existed."
"You're serious," John breathes out in awe, eyes wide and shining for the first time in ages.
"Deadly," Carolyn promises gravely.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Comments are greatly appreciated :)