Someone moving my feet and legs woke me up. I opened my eyes as Sherlock sat down and placed them carefully back in his lap, adjusting the blanket that was lain out over me.
"Hi," I yawned.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized as he settled himself onto the couch.
"It's fine. What time…?"
"Three thirty in the morning."
"Where's Mary?"
"She left when I got back," he said. "She said you ate the food she brought."
"Yea."
"Good. You needed to eat."
"Did you put her up to that by the way?" Sherlock didn't look at me, but I could see the guilty smile he was trying to hide. "Don't lie. I kinda figured. It's ok, thank you."
"I didn't like seeing you like that and for once I had no idea what to do. I don't like not knowing things."
"I'm sorry."
"No need. It's just things I'm not used to. I never thought I would be worried over the welfare of another human being. This is why I don't do caring."
"I know," I yawned stretching my arms out above my head.
"Would you like to go sleep in your bed?"
"Doesn't matter," I replied. "I'm quite comfy."
"Ok."
I snuggled down deeper into my couch, "Where'd you go?"
"I was trying to see if I could get a lead on who might have pulled the trigger. I have my homeless network working on it. Lestrade showed me a more in-depth report that included the ballistics this time and met me at the crime scene. I'll figure it out, don't worry."
"I'm not. For some reason I have full faith in you." He was quiet for a while. I watched him. He seemed like he was deep in thought as we sat there on my couch. "Mary said John's looking for a new flat."
"He's not."
"She's going out with him tomorrow to help him look."
"He's not leaving Baker St."
"Sherlock, the only way he thinks he can move on from your 'suicide', is to move out."
"Nonsense. I'm not dead. He doesn't need to do anything. I shall be returning to 221B Baker St soon."
"Yea, well you might want to tell him that," I replied. Sherlock stared straight ahead. "Sherlock, you have to tell him your alive."
"I will."
"When? You can't keep putting it off."
"Tomorrow."
"When tomorrow?"
"After he goes looking for a flat. We'll go tell Mrs. Hudson first," he informed me with a smile.
"What's with the 'we' business?" I asked holding back my own smile.
"You're coming with of course."
"Why?"
"Because I'm telling you that you are."
"Why?" He looked at me, bewildered by my question. "I want to know why."
He rolled his eyes, "Because I want you to."
"Why?" I asked smiling at him full well knowing I was probably starting to get on his nerves.
"Must you have a reason?" I nodded my head. "Too bad, you're coming and that's it."
"What if I don't want to?"
"I don't really care," he stated. "We'll go after noon. Go back to sleep."
"I don't want to."
"Why must you be difficult?" I shrugged my shoulders. "What were you planning on doing then?"
"Mary said George was getting some of the arrangements done for the funeral so I need to get together with him at some point," I explained.
"Then we'll meet him in the morning and then go to 221B Baker St and tell Mrs. Hudson I'm alive and then wait for John."
"Again with the 'we' business," I smiled.
He growled at me, "Will you just shut up?"
"Now make up your mind," I giggled. "Either you want me to be quiet or you want me my normal self. Which is it?"
"I want a happy medium between the two, but that's not going to happen."
"Ah keen deduction skills Mr. Holmes," I replied with a wink.
"I suppose there's only one way to make you be quiet then." I raised an eyebrow at him. He reached over and grabbed one of my hands and pulled me up into a sitting position next to him so that he could lean closer and kiss me, our lips molding together. I reached up and ran my hands through his curls as he shifted us back onto the couch, me laying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close. I pulled away and looked at him. He gave me a questioning look, "Something wrong?"
"No, not really." He raised an eyebrow at me. I leaned forward to kiss him again before laying my head on his chest and snuggling into him. "I'm tired…"
"Go to sleep."
"My brain won't let me."
"Close your eyes and you'll fall asleep," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.
"I can do that, but it won't be quiet…"
"What are you thinking about then?" he asked.
I sighed, "Everything that's happened the last few days."
"It'll get better."
"When…" I asked quietly.
"I can't give you a specific time, but that's the advice most people give."
We laid there in silence for a while. I picked my head up to rest my chin on his chest so I could look at his face. He was watching me and raised an questioning eyebrow at me. "Will you be leaving after tomorrow?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"After John knows your alive, will you live back with him?" I asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Will I still get to see you?" I asked.
"Charlotte, have you not listened when I told you I wanted to keep an eye on you?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not going to leave you by yourself. You've had a very trying week and to be honest, I'm still waiting for a bigger meltdown than what you've had. I don't want you upset with no one around."
"You can't keep an eye on me 24/7 you know."
"Ridiculous, of course I can. Especially if you come stay at Baker St until I see fit that you'll be fine on your own."
"Sherlock, I've know you four days. I can't move in with you."
"I'm not saying move in. I'm saying come stay at 221B Baker st. When you feel like you can be on your own, you can stop staying there."
"Don't you think you should talk to John about this first? I mean, he may not be all that receptive after he finds out you've been alive. I could see him going on a killing spree."
He leaned down and kissed me rather sweetly, "You let me worry about him, you worry about yourself."
The following morning, Sherlock accompanied me as I met with George at his place. There wasn't much George needed help with on the arrangements which I was thankful for. He let me pick out the flowers and what clothes she would wear before he suggested we go take a look at the pub. Sherlock didn't say much, but I could feel him looking at me every so often to see how I was doing.
My spirits were lifted slightly upon seeing the pub. Most of the damage seemed to be confined to the kitchen. It was hard to say seeing as we could go inside until insurance checked it out. The roof seemed mostly ok from the outside as was the front of the pub. There didn't seem to be a lot that would need to be re-vamped, but it definitely was going to need refurbishment.
"The police said the firefighters got here quick enough to stop it before it hit the liquor," George explained. "We'd need a whole new pub if not for them."
"Remind me once the pub's rebuilt and open to thank them," I sighed surveying the damage I could see.
"Do you want me to call insurance tomorrow?" he inquired.
I shook my head, "I will. You've done enough already…more than enough. Thank you by the way. I don't know what I'd do without you George."
"Hey," he said wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in for a hug. "You and Camille was like daughters to me. I promised your da that'd I'd watch out for the two of ya. I may not have done too well with Camille, but I'll do better with you." He looked over my head at Sherlock. "That means you best take care of my girl here. I hear you mistreat her, I'll make sure you fall off a building for real."
I giggled at the taken aback look on Sherlock's face as he surveyed George. "Empty threat, don't worry about him. He's harmless."
"I'm not sure about that," Sherlock muttered as he and George stared at each other.
"Would you two want to grab lunch quick?" George asked.
I shook my head, "Not today. Raincheck?"
"Sure. You kids behave," he said giving me a kiss on the head and a 'I'm watching you' look to Sherlock before hailing a taxi. I stood next to Sherlock, took one last look at the pub and turned to look at him.
"Ready to start getting your life back?" I inquired when he didn't say anything.
He took a deep breath and nodded before holding a hand out for a taxi. He gave the cabbie the address and we were off. We sat in silence. I kept watching Sherlock as he sat there in thought. He looked worried as we rode along. The usual calm façade I had constantly seen on him the last few days slipping and giving way to the nervousness behind it. I reached over and took his hand, weaving my fingers in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was the least I could do to let him know I was there after he had comforted me the last few days, even if it wasn't the normal way but his own odd way.
The taxi pulled up and we got out. I paid as Sherlock stood on the curb and looked at the Speedy's sub shop and a blue door next to it that read '221B'. I watched him but he didn't seem to want to move.
"Are you going to knock or something or are we just going to stand here?" He looked down at me. "Would you like me to do it?"
He didn't answer. I rolled my eyes and stomped up to the door and rapped sharply on it. I looked back at Sherlock who was still standing glued to the spot. I rolled my eyes, "Really, you'd figure the fact you have an emotional range of a teaspoon, you'd be a bit better with dealing with this…" I heard the door click open and an older woman stood there looking at me.
"Yes?"
"Uh hi. You don't know me…Um, You are Mrs. Hudson yea?"
"Yes," she replied giving me a confused look. "Can I help you?"
"Um well…there's uh.." I turned and looked behind me. She followed my gaze and I heard a gasp behind me.
