Mycroft felt his body hit the ground, had he been shot? There was no pain…
"Mr. Holmes?" a concerned voice sounded out, but it was slightly fuzzy…great, he was in shock. "Mycroft!" the same voice sounded angry now.
He blinked and stared at the concerned face, now registering it to be Vanessa. He swallowed and gripped tightly on her arm, supporting himself, trying to clear his mind, he looked over to the man, but no one was there.
"He fled." She said, disgust evident in her voice.
Mycroft shook his head and went to stand up.
"You're bleeding." She said looking at his head. "Wait here." She scurried off and came back with a few napkins. "Here," she started wiping away the blood as Mycroft looked absently at the door. Who was he? Then he remembered what the man had said right before he shot at him…Artemis's father? No, it couldn't be true, he didn't look like her…but then again, Mycroft didn't see very much of him.
"What happened?" he asked as she threw away the bloodied napkins.
"He shot at you, but he missed." She said without looking at him.
"Then how did I end up on the ground?" he asked and put his hand to his head, only to wince when he felt the large gash. "And I hit my head."
"I um…I knocked you down, sir." She said shyly.
"Didn't I tell you to wait in my office?" he raised an eyebrow as she glanced at him.
"With all due respect, sir, I did just save your life." She said with a hint of amusement.
"Yes, you did…" he said thoughtfully. "I suppose I'll forgive you this one time."
She smiled.
"But then again…" he continued. "You called me 'Mycroft' instead of Mr. Holmes."
Her smile fell suddenly. "No I didn't." she said blankly.
"Yes, you did." He smirked.
She frowned and stomped off, leaving Mycroft smirking, leaning against the reception desk, dabbing his wound with a napkin, but before she exited the large room, she turned and glared at him. "And get that checked, sir." She said and kept walking.
He chuckled.
Sherlock paced around the room, wondering what to do with the sleeping girl on his couch. Mycroft said someone would be there around ten, it was fifteen minutes past now.
Artemis had fallen asleep shortly after reading a short book, now she was curled up in his chair, and he didn't want to move her for fear of waking her up.
He sighed and sat down on the couch, putting his hands into a steeple under his nose, he stared into the blank screen of his television. This was too boring, so he got up and headed to his room, leaving the small girl to herself.
Once inside the bedroom, he shut the door quietly and took off his robe, leaving him in just a T-shirt, he sat down on the bed and laid back.
He concentrated and slipped into his Mind Palace easily…with a little help from his syringe
As soon as he entered, his looked around and saw only the white hallways, but down at the very end, there was a small figure.
That was new, so he focused on it, trying to figure out who it was, but he finally realized…Artemis.
Only, her face was split into a grin and her hair was in curly waves down to her shoulders, her bangs were brushed to the side. He saw she was wearing a colorful sundress with cap sleeves and a flowing skirt, she was barefoot…and there were no scars on her.
He frowned at her and started walking to her, but with every step he took, it was as if the hallway got longer. He finally stopped and accepted that he would never reach her, but her smile never faltered and it was unnerving.
He groaned in irritation and went to the destination he had been thinking of, but whenever he looked back, she was there, smiling. He
"Great, that was a waste of a trip." He said with a sigh, standing back up and looking down at Artemis, she was smiling again.
Goodbye. She signed, no longer speaking.
Sherlock gasped as he jolted up in bed.
Artemis stood wide-eyed beside him, her hands up like she had been shaking him.
He stared at her, taking her appearance, his shirt was long on her but still left her legs uncovered, they were scarred…good.
"I'm back…" he breathed a sigh of relief.
What happened? She asked in sign language.
"Nothing…" he said. Her eyes landed on his bedside table; on top was the syringe he had used, sitting in a case with the tourniquet, his eyes followed her and he snapped it up and put it in the drawer.
An awkward silence fell over them, Sherlock looked at the window and noticed there was light coming from it, he frowned and walked over to it, stepping on his bed to get to it. "It's…day?" he asked her and she nodded. "And Mycroft hasn't picked you up yet?"
She shook her head. In fact, she had been scared when she woke up, she didn't realize where she was for a second and…she wanted to call out for Mycroft. She quickly shook that thought from her mind.
"Alright," he sighed. "I'll call him, should you…I don't know, wash up?" he sat back down on his bed, not really sure of what he was supposed to do.
She usually took baths at night, but she didn't last night and she felt dirty, so she nodded.
"Okay, I'll…um…run the bath, I suppose." He shrugged and got up, brushing past her.
She watched him go, he looked strained, his eyes were odd and his hair looked damp from sweat. Her eyes went to the drawer he had stuffed the syringe's case into.
She looked down. Sherlock might not think she knew exactly what it was, but she wasn't that ignorant…one of her foster dads, he always shot up, and when he did he got really weird, even worse than when he was drunk.
She heard the water start running and started to the door, she saw Sherlock crouched in the bathroom floor, his hand under the water, testing the warmth.
He turned around and saw her, then got up. "It's ready, I'll be in the living room." He left the room, leaving her by herself.
When he stepped into the living room, he closed his eyes with a sigh and got out his phone.
…It went to voicemail.
He called again, aggravated at Mycroft even more now. "Come on," he growled at the inanimate object in his hand. "Answer, you miserable bore."
"Hello?" Vanessa's voice suddenly crackled through the electronic.
"Vanessa, where is my brother?" he barked.
"Mr. Holmes is occupied at the moment, may I take a message?" she said, her voice carried a hint of disdain.
"Someone was supposed to pick up Artemis last night." he said angrily, he didn't particularly like Vanessa.
"You didn't get my message?" she asked, now she sounded genuinely curious.
"What message?" he looked back to the bathroom door, she was still in there.
"A…" She paused, as if searching for the right word. "Unavoidable incident happened, I'm afraid we won't be able to collect Ms. Holmes until later." She said, actually sounding sincerely sorry.
"An incident?" he scoffed.
"Yes, will you be able to care for her until we can get her?" she asked.
Sherlock sighed and heard the bathroom door click as it opened, revealing Artemis with a fluffy towel wrapped around her, she had even put the edge of it on top of her head and a soft frown creased her small face…she looked absolutely adorable.
Sherlock rolled his eyes when he saw some water was dripping onto his floor. "Dry yourself off better." He said.
"Mr. Holmes?" Vanessa asked from the other end of the phone.
"Yes, I'm here." He walked over and ushered the small girl into bathroom again. "She doesn't have extra clothes, does she?" he asked Vanessa.
There was a pause before she spoke again. "I…don't believe she took any with her, but I'd have to ask Mr. Holmes."
"No, no she didn't, did she?" Sherlock mumbled. "Do I just put her back in the ones she slept in?"
Vanessa sighed into the phone. "No, those will be dirty; do you have a button-up shirt?"
Sherlock frowned. "Yes?" he went back to his room and pulled out a green button-up.
"Okay, now get the smallest belt you have." She ordered.
He frowned in confusion and walked to his closet and rooted around the mess, he finally found the small belt that didn't fit him anymore, but he forgot to throw away. "Got it." he said.
"Just put those on her, it'll should like a dress if you do it right, and roll up the sleeves." She said before hanging up.
He peeked around the corner to see her sitting on the couch with the towel still around her, but her hair was puffed up as if she had been drying it roughly.
"Here," he tossed them to her. "You can button things, right?" he asked.
She frowned at him, seemingly insulted before lifting her chin defiantly and gesturing for him to leave the room.
He rolled his eyes and turned back into his room, getting out his own clothes. He got dressed in a pair of torn, old jeans and a plain T-shirt, he slipped on a dark blue hoodie and ran a hand through his bed-head, it didn't do much good but it did help a little.
He looked in the mirror and saw his blood-shot eyes. Sighing a little, he looked away. Had Artemis seen? Of course she had. Would she tell Mycroft? He shook his head, of course she wouldn't tell him…sign it maybe.
His mind drifted back to his dream, she had spoken, not in her own voice, but she had definitely spoken. And her legs were unmarred by scars. Why had he dreamt of her? And with no scars?
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a soft gasp; he turned the corner and saw Artemis wearing his shirt and belt. Vanessa had been right; it did look like a dress.
But he frowned at her tear-filled and panicked eyes. "What is it?" he asked.
She looked up at him and then back down, his eyes followed hers, her legs were uncovered, and she looked at him with sheer terror.
He groaned and rolled his eyes, this was going to be a long day.
So, this was a bit rushed, and I'm not entirely confident in this chapter, but at least I got it on time!
Did I?
I'm not sure, I'm writing this a few days earlier so I could try to update on time.
Please tell me what you thought!
And I apologize for the INSERT LINE HERE thing in the last chapter, it's fixed now.
Also...It's mah birthday! Soon anyway, maybe even the day I update this! Wouldn't that be neat?