Chapter 10

It was four days later when she was back at the Met and the evidence came. Mycroft had warned her that he would send out the proof which would finally clear Sherlock, but actually listening to tapes made from Sherlock´s cellphone and seeing the suddenly found CCTV was a whole different story.

Sherlock had vanished the afternoon after their talking all night together without saying goodbye, which according to Mycroft was perfectly normal behaviour for him as he hated the sentiment of goodbyes. But it had left Sally somewhat pissed. Especially since Sherlock had reverted back to his normal sociopath behaviour over breakfast. It hadn't happened like someone had turned a switch, but gradually he had become distant and snappy. Now Sally deduced that he probably had been scared, but at that day she nearly had gone back to fighting with him. She guessed she had gotten a rare glimpse at the boy which Sherlock had been once, before he reverted back to his mask, making sure he alienated everyone.

Stupid idiot.

And the running away hadn't made it better but worse. It was then when Sally finally admitted to herself that she was really worried about the freak going off alone like that. Especially since he was still hurt. And it wasn´t just the body she was thinking of, because she had nightmares like hell and she didn´t think Sherlock would be different.

Nevertheless, Mycroft had wanted to go back to work in London the same evening as well. Although he had offered her the option to stay at the Holmes House for a while to catch her breath, she had declined. It just didn't feel right. She couldn't sit around while Sherlock and probably Mycroft to some degree, went back to chasing criminals. What was she supposed to do here? Twiddle her thumps and hide?

So she found herself back at work the next day, complete with extra long sleeves to cover her still bandaged wrists, and with Mycroft´s promise to alert her if Sherlock needed help.

She wasn't too sure he would, but she had told him that if he didn't keep her updated, there´d be hell to pay. Anthea had been amused by that, and she also had promised to kick Mycroft´s ass, just in case, as they were on their way back to London. Sally had decided that she liked the woman and vowed to invite her for a coffee soon, though she had no idea if Anthea even did trivial things like that.

But time would tell. Now she had to get through this afternoon first. It was Lestrade who had gotten the envelope with the tapes and who watched them first. A bit white in the face, he then told her to call Watson and round up the Superintendent and the rest of the team. Calling John was a bit awkward, since she knew he hated her, but she did what she was told. She considered apologizing to him over the phone, but decided it was better to do so in person. Even if there was a good chance he wouldn't talk to her after that.

She owed that to him, and to Sherlock.

Watching Lestrade lead the rest of the team and the Superintendant into the room to watch the tapes, she stayed back at first. She knew what was on them, so she could wait. Well, that and a part of her didn't want to admit that she was reluctant to watch them because she already felt uneasy thinking about Sherlock.

So it was her to whom John came up to first. She could see in his face that he wasn't really happy to see her, and so she got up quickly and led him towards the room where the rest of the Met was discussing what they had just seen. Lestrade saw them at once, grabbed what she thought were the tapes and came over to them. Only moments later they were sitting in the second media room and Lestrade explained to John why he had been called.

To her surprise John remained pretty calm, even though she was still in the room with him when Lestrade switched on the monitor with the CCTV. He also took out a little tape recorder which had been set back to the exact point where it would fit with the video and started it.

The fact that she was supposed to know what was coming didn't help really. It was just after Moriarty had killed himself, the desperate look on Sherlock´s face, that did it.

She knew he had known what was coming. She knew what was coming. Hell, she knew he was okay- mostly. But still seeing him that desperate reminded her of how he had looked just a few days ago. The moment after Sergej had told him that he´d rape him while Sally watched, and then he would make sure that Sherlock got to see her slow prolonged death. Bile rose in the throat as the Sherlock on the screen started to talk to John and it was just after the figure on the roof had jumped that Sally couldn't take it anymore and ran for the bathroom.

She only just made it in time as she threw up her lunch. Damn memories. Damn Moriarty and all the shit lies which resulted from him. She was so tired of everything. Damn Sherlock. Why couldn't he be here right now so she knew he was safe? Damn PSTD. She was stronger than this. She had to be.

She took a few moments to calm herself, knowing she had to go out there and face the music as the door opened. To her surprise it was John who looked in.

"You okay?"

Sally took a deep breath and nodded before she splashed some water into her face. "Sure, I just have eaten something wrong." She managed and added a "You don't need to check on me." Right after.

John didn't look convinced, so she tried to get away from him, by walking back into the bureau again. But of course he followed her. "Maybe you should go home and have some rest." He told her which managed to stop Sally. Why the hell was he the one comforting her? That wasn't right.

She turned around and now actually looked at him for the first time after she had run out of the room. He looked pale, had red rimmed eyes as if he had cried, but yet he looked generally concerned for her as well. "Why…" she started. "… I mean… listen… I´m sorry about what happened. I was wrong and I shouldn't have…" She sighed. There was nothing she could say that would make that right even if Sherlock said it was okay.

John seemed to think the same. "I knew you didn't hate him. Not really. And he didn't hate you. Even though you two put on your fights. Just be sure of that. And … listen… you had no chance of knowing that the evidence was all fake, I know that now. Hell, I sure as hell didn't see that coming. And Sherlock was a genius and he couldn't figure out in time what Moriarty had been planning, and because of that he had no choice and killed himself. There was no way to save him I guess. "

Sally barely held back a grimace. What could she say to that? She desperately wished she could tell John that Sherlock was ok, and yes, that he was indeed right, and that Sherlock didn't hate her, or at least not completely, but it wasn't an option. Not now. She turned back to run away again, as John grabbed her arm, making her gasp and stop her breath completely.

Yet she was lucky. Just a few centimetres more and John would have grabbed the bandage which would have resulted in some severe pain and thousands of questions. But as it was, he was oblivious. And it was that luck which made her ask the next question and give in to him. "You know what? I think we both look like we could need a cup of coffee, don't you think?"

John just nodded.

#

When she finally entered her apartment that day, she was exhausted. Physically, but also emotionally. Yet she was also glad. The talk between her and John had cleared the air between them, and even though they probably wouldn't become friends, they now could at least speak to each other without getting all awkward.

John had been surprised at the café, when she asked him to tell her about Sherlock. "I want to know what he was like, you know? How it was to live with him. Sometimes I just wish I had tried to get to know him better." She had enquired and he had looked at her for a moment as if she had asked him to change water to wine or something like that. But then he had started to talk.

He told her about what happened between solving the cases. About Sherlock not eating and sleeping enough- that she could vouch for- as she had witnessed it herself in the last weeks. About the crazy experiments in the fridge and the flat. About shooting the wall. Randomly deducing people for a laugh and much more.

She found that she compared his Sherlock to her memories of the past weeks and she regretted that she couldn't tell him that he hadn't changed that much. Though this wasn't all true. Her Sherlock ( something which still sounded all strange to her, damn the freak) had allowed himself to become undone in front of her eyes. He had let himself be vulnerable and he had cried, allowing her to comfort him,she marvelled, not for the first time, that he had allowed her to do that. Normally people didn't trust her that much because they didn't think she was worth it, but Sherlock had. Being in the same boat, so to speak, had something to do with it, she was sure, but she doubted that it had been the whole reason Sherlock did it.

There was just the fact Sherlock trusted her now. And she had sworn to herself that she would honour the trust.

That also included that she would try and watch out for John. Although that wasn't the whole reason. She had liked the doctor anyway, and now that they were on speaking terms again she could watch him much more openly. She could already hear Sherlock "tsking" about that, but she didn't care. Myrcroft was wrong. Caring could be an advantage and she damned well would show that to the Holmes brothers.

#

Sally had known that he was finished with the network, as Mycroft had sent her a text last night, letting her know he wanted to resurrect himself the next day. She knew the older brother was extra busy with resurrecting the younger now, but actually seeing Sherlock in the Yard was different.

It took a while until she stopped watching the undead man in secret, now sitting together with John and her DI in Lestrade`s office. And it took even longer until she had the courage to come out of her hiding place to walk towards them. She had no real idea how to react. They had never talked about what would happen "after". Was she supposed to play evil Sally now?

Whatever.

From afar she could already see that Lestrade was still pissed. John`s mouth was also set in a grim line, and while he looked more calm than the detective, it was clear that this was no easy situation for him either.

Sherlock looked even more haggard than a few weeks ago, which she thought wouldn't have been possible. He also had a split lip, which looked reasonably fresh. Courtesy of Watson she guessed. He seemed a little stiff which might mean he was hurt somewhere else and trying to hide it, but since John was here with him, and not at the hospital, it couldn't be so bad.

Well at least she hoped that, cause with the stubborn git you never knew. She would definitely get that out of him later.

And hold him down for Watson to treat him if necessary.

She strolled through the half open door of Lestrade´s office and came to stand behind John and the Freak. There she put a file onto Greg´s desk and couldn't resist ruffling through Sherlock´s hair as she bent back.

"Hey Freak!"

All three of them turned towards her, albeit Sherlock didn't turn around as quick as the others or even scolded her for touching him like that or at all. That alone resulted in a bigger surprise from Watson and Lestrade.

"Sally."

Sherlock just nodded and looked back at Lestrade while the mouths of the other two dropped open enough to admit whole planes if necessary. She only just managed to hide her threatening giggle, as she turned around to leave the room, passing Anderson who was standing at the door now, gaping like some big fish.

Sally grinned. That was all really amusing.

Only a few minutes later, she was back with a cup of coffee and a package of crisps that she knew Sherlock liked. Without further ado she went into the office, deposited the package into his lap and demanded.

"Eat."

Cue more surprise from everyone else, and a big pout of Sherlock which made her sigh.
"Listen Freak, I can deduce from the glassy eyes and the way that your hands are trembling and your whole complexion that you probably haven't eaten anything for 3 or 4 days. Given that your are obviously hurt and need to keep up your strength, I suggest you eat or I´ll make you. Cause if you don't and you keel over, I´m going to…" She didn't need to say more. Sherlock pouted for a few moments longer but then took the package, making Sally grin.

John, Lestrade and the still looming Anderson were speechless and Sally had to fight not to dissolve into laughter right there. The looks on their faces were priceless, and she could see Sherlock`s lips twitch as he started to eat the crisps like a good boy.

He was definitely having fun with this as well.

Damn it that she had forgotten he mobile phone in her office and couldn't take pictures, but seeing Sherlock again had shaken her more than she would like to admit. Even to herself.

It was John who found his speech back first: "What the hell.." Was all he could say before he was waved off by Sherlock.

"It's a long story."

Sadly, Sally wasn't able to hear anymore after that, as a constable came to get her, telling her that her witness for the latest case had arrived. Damn. She would have to ask Sherlock later. Too bad she couldn't make the witness wait, but as the woman was in her seventies and hardly able to walk, it was damn nice of her to make it here in first place.

So off she was.