More pain. Calvin felt something hot running down her back as she laid, motionless, on the floor of Sherlock's flat. She was just barely conscious, and wasn't sure if Sherlock was hurt or conscious. The thing was, she couldn't find the ability to open her eyes, as her mind was jumbled with pain and confusion.

She supposed that she should be having a panic attack at the moment, but the absence of full consciousness kept her anxiety issues at bay for the time being.

Calvin wasn't sure how long it was before she heard Sherlock groan and stir next to her. It took a bit more time until he noticed her laying on the ground. She listened as he slid over to her, cool fingers pressing against her pulse point at her neck. Satisfied that she was alive, his hands moved to pull up her shirt.

Becoming more conscious with him touching her, she groaned softly in protest. Why was he probing at her back? It hurt and was altogether much to hot, though his cool fingers were helping.

"Are you awake?" his deep voice asked from somewhere still far away. Calvin's eyes flicked back and forth under her lids, signalling that she was indeed at least somewhat conscious. Sherlock went back to checking her body, Calvin focusing on the little pokes and prods that he was administering, and the pain that came along with it, in order to pull herself back into the real world. She felt as though she were submerged in a tank of Jell-O.

Her eyes finallu fluttered open and she moved her head slightly to watch Sherlock, who was still inspecting her back.

"Shot yesterday, blown up today..." Calvin commented, trailing off as she realized how much her head hurt.

Sherlock ignored her. "You have glass embedded in your back." he informed her. "Possibly a concussion, severe bruising, burst eardrums."

"I should stay away from you, Mr. Holmes... You're trouble." she answered, dazed and confused but becoming less so by the minute. She surveyed his injuries then, or rather, the lack thereof. He had been in the center of the two windows that had exploded, and hadn't been hit by any of the shattering glass. He looked a bit bruised, but otherwise was fine. The debris had pretty much missed him entirely.

She, on the otherhand, now had glass in her back, a terrible headache, and definitely more bruises than she could count. Her heart lept into her throat as she realized that she may have to go back to the hospital.

That thought sent her heart on a rampage. She hated hospitals. Not so much for the needles or sickness or other normal reasons, but because being around so many doctors made her nervous beyond belief. Calvin felt that if she went to the hospital that they would find out that she had anxiety somehow. That was not an option.

"We need to take you to a hospital." Sherlock said, and Calvin's eyes immediately widened.

"No!" she snapped, sitting up sharply. As she did so, she felt more warmth running down her back. Reaching back, she came back with red-stained fingers. Blood. Fabulous.

"Are you stupid?" he demanded, picking her up swiftly and carrying her to the couch. He laid her on her stomach to keep her off the glass."You have glass embedded in your back. You need the shards removed."

"I-I don't like hospitals." Calvin said truthfully, though she made her voice less desperate and more aloof, as she usually did with Sherlock. "Besides, two hospital visits in two days? They'll think I'm the victim of domestic abuse." She smirked at her morbid joke, but on the inside she was dreading his answer

Sherlock glared at her, and Calvin sat up again. "Call John, have him do it." she asked. Sherlock pushed her back down onto the couch gently, trying to keep her in a laying position on said couch, and picked up his phone.

Calvin watched as he dialed the number multiple times, to no avail. "His phone is off. We're going to the hospital." he made a move to pick her up and Calvin swatted his hands away.

"Why don't you just do it?" she suggested desperately, though her voice was still cool and collected. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I'm a consulting detective, not a doctor." he told her snidely.

"Please, you're probably better at it than they are." Calvin told him, smirking. At this point, she was stroking his ego. She knew that the moment that she stepped into the hospital, she would have a panic attack. She was just barely able to keep it at bay when she went for her shoulder, but now, with multiple injuries and even more stress buzzing in her mind... she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it together. And Sherlock would figure out her disorder and so would the hospital.

He stared at her. "Hospital." he insisted, reaching around her to pick her up bridal style once more.

"Please." she said strongly, though her voice cracked ever so slightly. It would have been imperceptible to a normal person, but to Sherlock... well, it was as if she were begging.

"Fine." he agreed after a moment's deliberation. He set her back down on the couch and went into the kitchen, arriving back with two kits. One was a standard first-aid kit, and it had John's last name written on it. The other was much less friendly looking, and it obviously belonged to Sherlock.

"I have nothing for your pain." he reminded her, insinuating that it would be very painful to have the shards removed without pain medication. Calvin smiled at him.

"Pain builds character." she told him.

He sighed, pulling out a pair of what seemed to be oversized tweezers from his bag. "They are neither overly large nor very deep, or you'd be in the hospital right now." he informed her, cleaning his tool with alcohol. "Take off your shirt." He said it in such a manner that made the request seem like nothing. And it was, it meant nothing in this circumstance, but it was still strange.

Calvin began to reach to the hem of her shirt to pull it off, when the movement made her back burn with pain, and also irritated her shoulder wound. "Cut it off." she told Sherlock steadily, not wanting to make a big deal about it.

Instantly, he obliged. He grabbed a pain of scissors from his desk and returned to cut the old fabric from her back. He set them on the table behind him, and began cleaning the areas that needed glass removed.

His fingers found her bra, unclasping it without so much as a warning. Calvin turned slightly, surprised, but he merely rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh for god's sake there's a piece just below the clasp. Calm down." he snapped at her, eyes only on her back as he continued cleaning the area. Calvin chuckled slightly, turning back around. There was also no warning when Sherlock began pulling the pieces from her skin. She ignored the fact that she was bare from the waist up and she was only wearing a pair of shorts below that, as Sherlock didn't seem to care in the least.

Calvin yelped as the first one was taken, but with a sharp look from Sherlock, she instantly quieted down for the rest of the procedure. There were a dozen or so shards in her back when she started. Now, her back burned as antiseptic was put onto her wounds, followed by gauze and bandages found in John's kit.

"Clean those daily, or you'll get infection. And that calls for days in the hospital." Sherlock told her clearly, closing his bags. "You also may have a concussion. Don't sleep tonight. Mrs. Hudson!" He handed his outer robe to Calvin, not looking at her as she used it to cover herself.

No answer. Sherlock glanced down the stairs and then at his watch, 3:36am. He looked at the front door from the top of his steps and remembered that Mrs. Hudson had been in the building when the blast went off... but she hadn't come to check on them. Was she hurt?

Sherlock tramped down the stairs and knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door quickly. After a few moments, a very tired-looking Mrs. Hudson answered the door in a daze.

"What is it, Sherlock?" she asked, bewildered, but perfectly unharmed. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Just needed to check on you. Good night, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said, spinning on heel and heading back up the stairs. She stared after him before closing her door once more. Sherlock was satisfied that Mrs. Hudson was unharmed, and decided that her failing hearing in her older age had kept her from being fully aware of the large-scale explosion and perhaps passed it off as fireworks or such. He would inform her in the morning.

He found Calvin still sitting on the couch, but this time had a book in her hands. One of his books.

"What are you still doing here?" he demanded, she barely glanced up from her book to regard him.

"I'll fall asleep if I go back downstairs." she said, tone passive as her eyes flew over the page. "And it's hardly safe for me to be alone at such a time. Damsel in distress and all that." She was obviously teasing him, and he collapsed in the chair across from the window. In reality, she was covering for the fact that she was too frightened to be alone at this time. She swallowed that part of her and made her passive emotions as real as possible in her own mind.

"Blast came from across the street." he informed her, Calvin's eyes peeked back up to look at him, interested now. "I'd suspect a gas leak but that's too obvious."

"Too obvious?" Calvin asked, getting up and making her way, painfully, over to the window. She saw the smoking remains of the shop across the street and saw a few people panicking, perhaps neighbors.

"Should we help them?"

"What for? That's the Yard's job." Sherlock scoffed, and Calvin pursed her lips in irritation at him, but she simply turned and looked at him with a bemused look.

"Well you seem to like doing the Yard's job on every other day of the week." she retorted, still with an aloof smirk gracing her face. Sherlock snorted at her, crossing his legs haughtily. Calvin narrowed her eyes at him ever so slightly, and returned to her seat on the couch, careful not to touch her back to the couch. She picked back up her book and decided to ignore him for the rest of the night.

It wasn't very difficult for Calvin to stay awake throughout the night. She simply kept reading the book she had taken from Sherlock's shelf. He did not seem to mind the absence of conversation, although he did wonder aloud to her a few times, to which she did not respond. She drifted off into a state of only thought as she continued to read, which she was only awakened from when Mycroft Holmes entered the flat, sun shining through the windows at this time. Calvin glanced at Sherlock and found that he had changed.

Mycroft was staring at her in a most amused fashion. "Ah, Sherlock, it seems that you have become rather close with young Miss. Baker, then?" he implied, sitting across from his brother in the second armchair. Calvin realized that she was still wearing Sherlock's robe, which covered her from neck to thigh, masking the shorts she had on. For all Mycroft knew, she was naked under it.

Sherlock glared at his brother. "Oh for god's sake, Mycroft. No." he snapped. Calvin took the moment to head down to her flat to change into something. She was, after all, still topless.

"Why is her... undergarment on your couch, then?" Calvin heard Mycroft ask as she headed down the stairs, and allowed a laugh to escape her lips as she entered her flat. She'd left her bra on the couch. She couldn't hear Sherlock's angry reply, but was amused by his revulsion of her.

Changing was difficult for her, as every part of her body stung and ached, but she managed to get on presentable clothing for work. She would be going to work today. She had to.

Calvin washed her face and braided her hair down the side of her face, allowing her bangs to sweep to the side and cover the large bruise on her forehead. Her headache was almost gone, and she guessed that she had not suffered a concussion. Standard make up covered the tired circles under her eyes and the small nicks she had received on her face.

Making her way slowly back up the stairs, she found that John had arrived. Sherlock now had his violin in hand and was plucking at it.

"Are you okay?" John demanded instantly, checking her face over. Calvin smiled at him.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Sherlock tells me you were rather badly injured, shards of glass in your back and all." Mycroft said with a less than friendly smile, and John's eyes widened.

"Let me see..." John demanded, moving around to her back and saw a bit of bandage peeking through her shirt. He raised the hem slightly to inspect it, and Calvin swatted his hand away.

"I'm fine. What is it with you two and trying to get me clothes off, huh?" Calvin teased and John's eyes went immediately to Sherlock.

"What." he demanded, and then spotted the white bra still sitting on the couch. "He what."

"Not like that, John." Sherlock snapped.

"He fixed me up rather nicely, is all." Calvin explained, and grabbed her bra off the couch, stuffing it in her purse. She turned to see Mycroft rocking on his heels, still looking at Sherlock.

"As I was saying, you've got to find those plans, Sherlock." he continued. "Don't make me order you."

Sherlock lifted his violin to his shoulder. "I'd like to see you try." he answered. Calvin cocked her head in interest. She had been right. Sibling rivalry, at it's finest. Although the two were so painfully alike.

"Think it over." Mycroft said with a slight smile. He turned abruptly.

"Good bye, John." he said, shaking Watson's hand. "See you very soon." Mycroft's eyes turned to Calvin.

"Good bye, Miss. Baker. Do feel better." he said.

"If it's up to these two, I'll have head trauma by the end of next week." Calvin answered drly, and Mycroft smiled wider at her before turning on his heel to leave. Sherlock began playing a fast, angry tune on his violin as he left.

John furrowed his brow at his friend until he stopped. Calvin chuckled to herself and waved to the two.

"I have to be off to work. Have fun with your new case, boys." Calvin said with a smile, taking a few painful steps to the stairs.

"Work? You're hurt." John exclaimed, taking a few steps toward her, as if to stop her. Calvin stopped and looked at him over her good shoulder, despite the pain in her back.

"And I will continue to be hurt for quite some time, John. Besides, pain builds character." she said, grinning as she repeated what she told Sherlock that morning. John looked doubtful but didn't stop Calvin as she made her way down the steps and outside.

"Had a fun night with Calvin, then?"

OoOoOoOoOo

GAH THIS CHAPTER SUCKS I AM SO SORRY PLEASE EXCUSE MY LACK OF WRITING SKILLS.

No matter how I wrote this it came out wrong gah I can't write. I apologize but this is the best that I could get it. But it does have a tiny bit of Calvin/Sherlock if you squint REALLY hard. Or rather it was a chapter that had a lot of interaction between them.

But anyway. We are getting closer and closer to Moriarty. fuck yeah. I am SO FUCKING EXCITED OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM.

Anyway I'm tired. Thanks again for ALL YOUR COMMENTS AND IMPUT AND FAVORITES AND FOLLOWS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH HOLY SHIT.

Guest named Emma: Calvin and Sherlock is my OTP 6evr so ha. And thank you! I like the fact that she has anxiety because it adds new layers to her character and it makes me happy.

Hiding in the Shadow: Thank you! I like the new layers, too! And yay! Senor Moriarty!

kykyxstandler: Ugh I know. Je veux la romance aussi, mais c'est impossible pour maintenant. (I want the romance also but it's impossible for now. Im feeling Frenchy right now) Someday!

OKAY IM GOING TO BED NOW. BON SOIR. JE T'AIME. I LIKE FRENCH.

Jess