A/N: Not many people have reviewed. Sigh. I want to know your thoughts people! C'mon, 50 people looked at this story yesterday and no one reviewed. *pouty face* Just kidding! I am posting this for me own entertainment.
Well, anyway, this chapter is focused on our beloved detective. Kind of. He is confused at the present time. This is where I insert all those lovely descriptions.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THIS FASCINATING DETECTIVE.
Thanks to Lysdi and Telula13 who have reviewed.
On with the show!
A.C.B.
Alexandra C. Bowyer.
15 years of age.
Lived in the U.S.
Likes baseball.
Wears hat constantly.
Hazel eyes.
Dark hair.
Dyed. (Obvious now that you're not wearing a hat. You really should re-dye that.)
Trained in martial arts.
Cheap but fashionable clothes.
Doesn't wear make-up.
But who are you?
Sherlock's thoughts were disrupted when John walked back in the room with some horrible hospital coffee. Greg and Mycroft left earlier to go to work.
"Confused as well, Sherlock?"
"Confused? I'm never confus-. What do you mean by 'as well'?"
John shifted uncomfortably. "I - I don't know." He looked at his feet. "Al isn't a very open person. Really all I know is what Mycroft told me."
Sherlock looked at him. "Why don't you know more? Your better at those feeling things aren't you?"
"Well, yes. But I don't think that Al shows her true emotions. What rape victim wakes up in an unfamiliar place, cries, and forces everyone to leave but one, then laughs? It doesn't make sense."
"That John is what a person does when their emotions have only ever caused them pain."
"Is that what happened to you?"
Sherlock looked at John indecorously. "I am not going to dignify that with an answer. Anyway, Al is hiding something. Something really big, something she doesn't want anyone to know."
"Doing a good job too." John smirked at Sherlock. "What with all you and your brother's resources, you should be able to find something."
Both of them were so enraptured in their conversation that they didn't notice Al had woken up and was watching them with interest. She kept it that way.
"Yes our resources are impressive but if a person is basically off the grid for most of their lives there isn't much information.
Laughing silently, Al nodded.
"What about that name she shouted? Jake, was it?" Sherlock nodded. "What about him? Could someone contact him an-."
"You'd need a psychic for that."
John and Sherlock (to her delight) jumped and turned to her. "Jake's dead. Has been for over a year now. He died in a car accident with Matthew. My boyfriend and my little brother."
John felt guilty now. "I'm -."
Al angrily interrupted him. "Don't you dare apologize to me, John Watson!"
John looked abashed. "But-."
"No. Do you want my apologies for your military service? I could you know. You were there helping the troops from my country eliminate the threat to the people. You were a medic you friends died in front of you. Same happened to me. We are in the same boat, John. I don't need your pity. Save it for a person who actually wants it." Al spat vehemently.
They stared. That was the most that they have ever heard out of Al in one go.
She is also very proud.
John looked at his feet again. Sherlock was still looking at Al, trying to deduct her. By the way, his eye was twitching, he wasn't having very much luck.
Al looked at the two of them. She smiled again, "When do I get out of here?"
A.C.B.
After the somewhat revealing talk with Al, John went to the nurses' station and got her discharge papers.
Al was very excited to get back to the flat. As soon as the cab pulled up to the curb, Al jumped out and laughed. John chuckled and paid the cabby. Sherlock grabbed the small overnight bag and opened the door. Al gets inside and promptly crashes in Sherlock's chair. John chuckles again and asks Sherlock if he wants some decent tea. Sherlock sat down on the couch seeing as his chair was being pilfered by Al.
"Of course, John." John bustles about boiling enough water in case Al wakes up soon.
The girl in question wasn't really asleep. "Can I have some chai, John?"
John smiled again, made her the wondrous chai, and handed it to her. "Mama always said that chai had special healing powers. Just one of those things mothers tell their kids. I always believed her, no matter how old I got."
Even Sherlock had a small smile on his face at this point. Who wouldn't?
Al got up off the chair and plopped down on the couch next to Sherlock, and pulled John down to sit next to her after he had handed Sherlock his tea. They sat like that on the cramped couch for a time until almost all the tea had gone.
Al turned to face John and hugged him, burrowing her face in his jumper. "Thanks, I don't think I could've stayed there for much longer without going stir-crazy."
John smiled and hugged the girl back. Sherlock sat awkwardly on Al's other side, no knowing what to do.
John rolled his eyes and jerked his head towards Al. Sherlock got the hint and cautiously put his arms around Al and John.
Al smirked, going unnoticed by the males hugging her.
They broke apart suddenly when the doorbell rang. John got up to answer it while Al leaned back against Sherlock, the day's excitement getting the best of her.
John came back upstairs holding a package. "Al, you have a package."
"Really? From who?"
"The guy wouldn't give me a name but he looked familiar."
"Hm. Toss it here." John did. Al examined the unassuming package. Sherlock handed her a knife. She swiftly cut open the tape.
And peeked in the box.
And let out a squeal of joy.
Al pulled out a stuffed elephant. A lavender one. With a note taped to its ear.
"What's the note say?"
"Umm. 'Get well soon. The Scotland Yard. P.S. Sally picked it out.'"
Al laughed, "It's perfect!"
John sent a text to Greg: Hey, Al loves the elephant. Thanks to everyone. -JW
"I'm dubbing you Kolakolli."
A.C.B.
A/N: Well, that was fun. This chapter had a mind of its own. This was not how I planned this scene to go. Sorry if it sounded rushed or something.
Live Life & Have Fun!
Al
