((TW: Attempted rape))
An unlit cigarette dangled from her lips as she scrawled across page after page of lined notebook paper. London had proved inspiring, for a place so seemingly drab...until strings of murders and rapists revealed themselves.
As she took a fresh page she felt someone sit down on the step beside her. She didn't even have to look to know it was him.
"You wouldn't happen to have another of those, would you? I'm absolutely dying for one. The patches aren't helping."
A quick ruffle of noise as she pulled the packet out of her bag, handing it to him without taking her eyes off the notebook. Sherlock flicked the packet open and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as he set the packet down beside them.
"You don't smoke."
It wasn't a question. He could tell she didn't smoke, and probably never had. But still the cigarette hung from her mouth; still, she carried a packet of the things. With a lighter. Cigarettes, a lighter. Never smoked. Sherlock flicked the ash away, frowning in thought.
"You carry them out of habit. Was he a friend or a lover?"
A dark look crossed her face and she turned away from him. The grip she had on her pen tightened, her knuckles becoming stark white. She continued writing, but with such force she pushed the pen straight through the page. She threw the notebook down on the step as she got up and walked away.
I need to clear my head. I'll be back later.
She pushed her hood up and kept her head down as she strolled through the streets. The sun was beginning to set off in the distance - it was later than she thought. People were rushing around her, on their way home from busy days working and shopping. The streetlights flickered on as the last of the sun's rays gave their farewell to the day.
She continued walking, distractedly rolling up her sleeves for something to do. The things they'd seen that day...the thought one human could do that to another was almost too much. Lost in thought, she didn't realised how far she'd gone. Parker stopped and looked around. She was utterly lost. The shabby buildings were unfamiliar and panic rose inside her. Her breath caught in her throat as she spun around, trying to retrace her steps.
"Need any help, love?" A gravelly voice sounded from somewhere to her right. A man stepped out of the shadows with a wolflike smile that showed far too many teeth. She shook her head, stepping backwards, fumbling in her pockets for phone.
She'd left the damned thing at home. He grabbed at her arm, nails digging into the bare flesh. Before she could pull away, he had her pinned against the bricks, his breath hot in her face. He pulled her into the alley and roughly pushed her onto the concrete. She landed awkwardly, scraping her arm against the ground.
"Not putting up much a fight, are you?" That gravelly voice hissed in her ear. "I like that."
He pushed her skirt up and pulled at her tights and wasn't expecting it at all when her fist made contact with his jaw. He leaned back, sent reeling by the hit. The next hit was a kick to his nose. Blood spilled across her tights and boots as she scrambled backwards and pulled herself to her feet, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst. He staggered towards her, his own fist hitting her cheek and knocking her aside. The taste of blood was bitter across her tongue. She found herself pinned again with a sharp crack to her skull against the brick. Stars swam before her eyes and she kicked out at him, a startled grunt telling her she'd made her mark.
"Oi! What's going on over there?!"
Her attacker swore and sprinted away. Parker tried to stand, stumbling forward before she fell. She was aware of gentle hands on her and a voice asking if she was alright, telling someone else to call an ambulance, before everything become fuzzy and grey, fading to black.