Sherlock and Felicity snuck out of Ruth's Academy for Young Ladies, got into Sherlock's car, and drove to London. The ride was mostly silent; Felicity seemed more relaxed than before, but she was still uptight and withdrawn. Sherlock hoped that time away from the prison she'd been in before would help her come back to her carefree nature. One long stretch of driving later, the two of them booked a hotel for the night and settled in. They shared the queen bed, even though neither of them really slept. Sherlock hadn't gotten a good, full night's sleep since he faked his death three years ago, not that he'd ever been able to fully curb his insomnia before the event. Felicity, on the other hand, used to be able to fall asleep without much difficulty. Now she was such an insomniac she sometimes didn't sleep for weeks; dreams of Charley dying or bullies from her school breaking her apart deterred her from sleeping. Felicity and Sherlock took comfort in having someone nearby they could trust for the first time in years.
The next morning, Sherlock and Felicity ate a quiet breakfast before they turned in the rental car and hopped on the tube. Sherlock was well aware that it wouldn't take Mycroft long to notice him on CCTV so they didn't have much time. Logical thoughts aside, Sherlock was anxious to see his friends again. He wanted to run to them, throw open the door and see their faces for the first time in three years. He wanted to know what their lives had been like, what had happened since his 'death', and, most of all, he wanted his old life back. He tried to find a shred of patience as he and Felicity got off the tube and walked to 221B. As they walked from the tube station, Sherlock surreptitiously inspected Felicity. In the light of day, his deductions from the night before were screamed back at him. Felicity had grown, that was for sure, but she'd also lost more weight than was necessary in the process. She held herself like a queen, but the stiff regality of her movements seemed fatigued. Her vibrant hair sharply contrasted her introverted, antisocial personality change. An odd feeling pulled at Sherlock's heart as they stopped at Speedy's. Sherlock stared at the door to 221B, fighting down waves of emotion that crashed over him. He wasn't with the people he cared about most, not yet, but he was home. He was in London, the city that had inspired him to become a detective. Three years away suddenly felt like three centuries, three millennia.
Sherlock was jerked out of his thoughts by a tiny, cool hand taking his own. When he looked down, he noticed Felicity at his elbow giving him a sad yet reassuring smile. She squeezed his hand and then released it, knowing that Sherlock would stay until she called him. Sherlock ducked into the sandwich shop, his heart racing as he watched Felicity go right up to the front door and knock a few times. After a moment, the door opened and there was a loud gasp from Mrs. Hudson as she got a good look at the girl on her doorstep. Sherlock devoured Mrs. Hudson's image as his kind landlady and friend gave Felicity a firm hug. "Felicity? Felicity Muller? Goodness gracious, child, look at you." Mrs. Hudson fussed, holding Felicity at arm's length and gazing at her from head to toe. "You're all grown up!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, and Sherlock saw a brief spark of worry in Mrs. Hudson's eyes. She saw the bad changes, the changes that had killed the old Felicity as well.
"It's been a long time, Mrs. Hudson, but I thought I'd come by to see you. May I come in?" Felicity's voice made Mrs. Hudson blink again at the obvious change and the slightly hollow smile Felicity gave her. However, Mrs. Hudson was a strong, patient woman. She knew that she would get to the bottom of things soon enough, so she saved her questions for later. Instead, she gave Felicity a huge smile and ushered her inside, leaving Sherlock to wait anxiously for Felicity's call.
"You look so peaky, dear. Are you feeling ill?" Mrs. Hudson asked, steering Felicity into her flat and closing the door. She instantly started a pot of tea, regardless of if Felicity would want any or not. It was a habit of Mrs. Hudson's; the action was second nature to her. Felicity sat in one of Mrs. Hudson's dining room chairs, posture so perfect it looked painful as she watched the older woman make the tea. The nostalgia of the moment was warming Felicity's heart a bit, but her heart was still buried and almost lost inside her where she'd stored it when Charley was deployed.
"No, I'm in good health, thank you. How about yourself; is your hip still bothering you?" Felicity deflected the question with ease, her internal wince masked behind her neutral, eerily calm face. Mrs. Hudson tutted as she sat down.
"Of course, dear. It always does. How are you, Felicity? The last time I heard about you, I was hearing the most awful news that your brother was being shipped off somewhere horrible." Mrs. Hudson launched her grandmotherly, information seeking attack. She honestly wanted to know, that was true, but she wanted to know quickly. She'd missed Felicity a lot and missed her sunny disposition. She saw the flash of pain in Felicity's eyes before it vanished.
"I've been focusing on my studies quite a bit." She said carefully, as if she was choosing her words on purpose. "I was sent to a boarding school when Charley was deployed four years ago to Kuwait. He's visited every Christmas, but he's so busy over there that those visits are the only time he's been able to take off." Felicity explained almost tonelessly, and Mrs. Hudson tutted sympathetically, getting the kettle when it started to whistle. She prepared a cup of tea for Felicity without any prompting on how the redhead took it; Mrs. Hudson always remembered how people took their tea. Felicity smiled softly at the mug as it was placed in front of her as she slowly wrapped her thin hands around the porcelain. "And you, Mrs. Hudson? How have you been getting on?" Felicity asked, and Mrs. Hudson's face dropped slightly.
"I've been fine, dear, trudging on as always. It's been a bit difficult since Sherlock's passing, but John and I go to visit him every month." Mrs. Hudson said in a quieter tone, taking a slow sip of tea to steady her nerves. Felicity's ghostly smile dropped as well at the mention of Sherlock. "That must have been hard for you to hear about dear, while you were stuck in school." Mrs. Hudson added in a firmer tone as she got her wits about her. Felicity's sad smile returned and her eyes, which were usually so carefully guarded, started to drown in their own misery.
"It was, Mrs. Hudson. It was." She said very softly, and then leaned closer to her, eyes fixed on Mrs. Hudson's face in a way so reminiscent of Sherlock that Mrs. Hudson felt a jolt of surprise. She'd never expected to be on the receiving end of such a stare ever again. "That's slightly why I'm here, Mrs. Hudson." Felicity hedged, working to speak around the lump in her throat that had appeared as she remembered the day when the news of Sherlock's suicide reached her. Seeing Mrs. Hudson again was helping Felicity come to terms with the fact that she wasn't so repressed anymore, but the memories of seeing that tabloid and reading about Sherlock came back, it made Felicity want to cry. When the landlady looked at her questioningly, Felicity continued, taking a deep breath. "Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock isn't dead. I know he isn't." She said, and it took Mrs. Hudson a moment to process. Her first instinct was to deny Felicity's words; Sherlock was obviously dead, he jumped off of a building for god's sake. After the shock and anger of Felicity's idea ran their course, Mrs. Hudson started to wonder. Felicity was one of the few people Mrs. Hudson had met that could lay a finger to Sherlock's intellect. If Felicity was sure of Sherlock's livelihood, than perhaps she was right.
"Felicity, dear, I-I," Mrs. Hudson stammered, trying to find words. Felicity's hands instantly shot across the table to collect the more wrinkled hands that rested there, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
"I know that he's alive, Mrs. Hudson, because he's the reason I'm here." She said earnestly, her eyes searching Mrs. Hudson's face for evidence of Mrs. Hudson becoming overwhelmed. "Sherlock snuck me out of my boarding school so that I could ease the stress of his return." Felicity summed up, and Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened so much, Felicity wondered if they were going to fall right out of her head.
"You've seen him? Alive?" She whispered finally, and Felicity nodded solemnly, still watching her anxiously for signs of stress. "For the love of—I'll kill him," Mrs. Hudson growled weakly, wiping tears away from her eyes as sharp hope and sadness bloomed through her chest at the same time. Sherlock was alive. How and why was that even possible? Where had Sherlock been all of these years, and why was he returning now? "Where is he?" Mrs. Hudson asked, and Felicity hesitated.
"He's here in London, and he wants to see you yet today. I'll call him, don't worry," she added hastily, seeing Mrs. Hudson's expression change for the worse, "but I have to tell John first, and that's going to be…difficult." Felicity struggled for the right words and Mrs. Hudson's previously angry expression instantly died.
"John hasn't been the same since Sherlock jumped, dear. I used to say that a part of him died with Sherlock, but Sherlock isn't exactly dead, now is he?" Mrs. Hudson asked weakly, swiping at her eyes again. Felicity looked worried as she watched Mrs. Hudson dab at her eyes with her handkerchief.
"Tell me about him, please." Felicity asked softly, and Mrs. Hudson sighed, taking a sip of her tea.
"John is haunted by the loss of his friend." She summed up finally, gesturing hopelessly with her free hand as she clutched her tea mug. "He still works at the surgery and goes out to the shops and all…but he's different. His limp is back, his hand tremors are back…it's like he's reverted to the man he was before he met Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson sighed, looking at Felicity with sad eyes. "Why don't I walk you up there now, hmm? I don't want to keep John from this any longer than necessary." Mrs. Hudson said firmly, standing up. After a moment, Felicity rose also, following her out of the flat and up the stairs. With every step her heart beat faster in her chest. This place held so many memories for her, happy memories that she'd repressed in an effort to become a robot. Seeing 221B in the flesh once more made her heart clench uncomfortably. She'd learned of Sherlock's existence just yesterday, and now she was back in London, reuniting with some of the people that mattered the most to her. Swallowing her emotions, she waited patiently as Mrs. Hudson knocked. "Yoohoo! John?" Mrs. Hudson called.
"I'm a bit busy, Mrs. Hudson," John called back at the moment, sounding tired. "Let yourself in, please," he added, and Mrs. Hudson opened the door, stepping in first. Felicity hovered behind her, unsure of how she wanted to reveal herself. Mrs. Hudson had taken her reappearance and the news of Sherlock's survival surprisingly well (but then again, Mrs. Hudson was as tough as nails). Felicity had no idea how John was going to react and because her mission was to break the news to him gently, Felicity was nervous.
"John, you'll never guess who is here," Mrs. Hudson said, somehow managing to keep her composure and not seem oddly emotional at all. She had just learned that Sherlock still lived and yet here she was, completely normal. Felicity made a distracted, mental note of Mrs. Hudson's amazing acting capabilities as John spoke.
"Who is it? It's not Mycroft, is it?" John asked, his voice holding no interest or emotion at all. It was a flat, tired monotone that made Felicity's skin crawl. Usually, any mention of Mycroft was enough to trigger a reaction in John, but now he was an empty shell. Felicity suddenly had the strong urge to hug John, hug him as hard as she could to make him feel better.
"No, dear." Mrs. Hudson said, blinking away a brief look of pain on her face as the Holmes family was mentioned. "An old friend." At those words, John looked up, interest finally piqued. He stared at Felicity in the doorway, all thinned out and a bit beaten down, and his mouth formed into a perfect 'o' as he stared at her in shock.
"Felicity?" He managed to gasp finally, surprise, sadness and joy managing to all fit into one word. His tone was too much for Felicity to handle, and in seconds she'd blitzed across the room and hugged John as tight as she could, burying her face into one of his classic wool jumpers with a barely concealed sob. Felicity had missed John just as much as she'd missed Sherlock. John was her rock, her normalcy, her lazy Saturday in with crap telly and a jar of jam. She'd loved him with all her heart, only to be cut off so brutally that she hadn't even seen his face in over three years. For a girl who never cried, Felicity seemed to be doing a lot of it lately as she hung onto John and shed more tears than she thought was possible. John embraced her just as tightly, his short stature making it easy for him to bury his face in her hair. Felicity was sure she felt a few tears land in her fiery red locks, but she didn't care. She was home. She was with John. Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson, Baker Street, London- all of it; it didn't replace her life with her brother in Sussex, not completely, but it was such a release from her confinement at Ruth's that she didn't know what to do with herself. "Felicity, what are you doing here?" John managed to croak finally, holding Felicity at arm's length to get a better look at her. Seeing that their reunion would take a long time, Mrs. Hudson smiled to herself and snuck back down the stairs to her own flat.
"I came to see you," Felicity said quietly, locking her emotions away again, hopefully for real this time. She had work to do, and crying wouldn't help resolve the issue any faster. John looked confused as he insisted that Felicity sit down in the other armchair, Sherlock's old armchair, as John settled into his own. John looked thinner, his face more tired. His hair was graying a bit further with stress, and his eyes had a dead look to them to match his previous tone. All in all, he and Felicity looked a bit gaunt. "How have you been, John? I haven't seen you in…a while." Felicity asked carefully, seeing how John stiffened at the question.
"I've been better, Felicity, but I'm doing fine. What about you; you look a little ill." John commented, unknowingly echoing Mrs. Hudson's previous thoughts. Felicity grimaced. "It was that school, wasn't it? The one like Pentonville Prison." John put together, and Felicity's grimace deepened. "You know, Sherlock and I were really upset when we weren't allowed to contact or see you. We tried writing to you by posing as another relative, but something tells me the letters didn't make it." John said, his voice getting that flat note to it again as he mentioned his dead friend. Felicity shook her head silently in confirmation in an effort not to speak when another lump was rising in her throat. "When was your graduation? Is Charley home? I'd like to see him again, catch up on old times." John asked, and Felicity flinched slightly at his comment. Before he could comment on it, she answered him.
"Charley isn't back from Kuwait yet, and I haven't graduated from Ruth's Academy." Felicity said softly, and John stared at her, bemused.
"Then how are you here? You didn't run away, did you?" He asked, his voice rising in anxiousness as he started to put the pieces together. "You ran away? By yourself? Felicity!" John exclaimed in shock, too surprised to rebuke her properly. Her action sparked a pit of worry inside him; if Felicity had run away from school, how bad of a facility was it? What drove her to such an extreme measure?
"I had help, John, and that's why I'm here." Felicity continued in that strangely calm and flat voice that made John instantly suspicious and even more worried. "John, Sherlock helped me get out of Ruth's." Felicity broke the news, and John stared at her for a minute before his face clouded over in anger and surprise at the same time. "I know that it sounds ridiculous, John, and I know that it's hurtful, but I've seen Sherlock. He's alive." Felicity continued, her voice starting to strain as she tried to keep calm.
"How can you say that, Felicity. I'm sure you read the papers, watched the news. Sherlock is dead- I saw him jump; he's dead!" John very nearly yelled, then hid his face behind a hand, rubbing his forehead as they sat in silence.
"John, why would I make this up, why would I lie about this? Sherlock was my friend too. He was my mentor, my-" Felicity struggled to take a deep breath, and John looked up as she interrupted herself. "Sherlock was my proof that things do get better. He survived the bullying and growing up so I thought I could too." Felicity whispered, closing her eyes and giving her head a rough shake to pull herself together. John was staring at her when Felicity opened her eyes. He looked like he was facing an internal struggle- should he continue to repress his sorrow for Sherlock's loss, or should he let it all out and accept that it wasn't real, that he didn't have to grieve anymore? "Trust me, John." Felicity meant to say it firmly, but it came out like she was begging. That was what finally pushed John to believe her. He got up and crouched next to her, eyes wide but sad as he tried to process.
"Sherlock is alive." John said slowly, as if he had to test out the words. Felicity nodded, her face white with restraint. "Where?" John asked, and Felicity smiled a ghostly smile.
"I'll call him. Mrs. Hudson already knows and I'm sure Mycroft will show up soon." Felicity told him, voice still strained as she pulled out a small pay-as-you-go mobile phone and hit the first speed dial, trying to ignore the excited, angry, and terrified look on John's face. Sherlock picked up immediately but waited for Felicity to speak first. "Come up when you're ready." Felicity managed to say it clearly, without the strain in her voice. Sherlock hung up, and then there were footsteps racing towards them, skipping stairs two to three at a time. Before Felicity could comprehend it, Sherlock was there, standing in the doorway. His hair was ruffled- he'd been running his hands through it in frustration and impatience. Felicity could see how his hands shook, even though he was holding quite firmly onto the door and the doorframe. The hurt on his face was so prevalent that Felicity couldn't even look at him. She didn't look at John either as the doctor slowly stood, placing a hand on the back of her armchair, Sherlock's armchair, for support. The two men stared at each other as if they'd never seen a human being before; cataloging changes they saw in their faces.
"Where on Earth have you been, Sherlock?" John asked finally, his voice incredibly calm. Sherlock flinched as if he'd been punched, his head drooping at the question.
"I had a plan going up onto that rooftop, John. I was prepared to destroy him- the incident on St. Bart's rooftop was to be our last altercation with each other. When my plan backfired, I had to rely on my secondary plan." Sherlock started, his voice hollow.
"What, by throwing yourself off a building?!" John spluttered, his grip tightening on the upholstery under his hand.
"Moriarty had three snipers at his disposal. One shot for Mrs. Hudson, one shot for Lestrade, and one shot for you. If the snipers received word that I had jumped, you would not be killed." Sherlock continued, sounding so regretful he almost sounded sick. Dead silence spread throughout the room as John stared at Sherlock, the shock at his sacrifice and his anger for Moriarty mixing in his expression until it created a harsh grimace. "Once my death was faked, I was free to track down and destroy every syndicate of Moriarty's crime network. I finished one week ago and was free to return home without fear of anyone suffering on my behalf." Sherlock spoke haltingly, and at his last sentence anger flared in John Watson.
"No suffering, Sherlock? Despite all your best efforts, we've suffered quite a bit, I thank you." John very nearly yelled. "Lestrade got demoted for working with you, Molly was almost fired for letting you use the lab and it's supplies, Mrs. Hudson nearly had a heart attack when she heard the news, Mycroft's been on my arse, and-" John started to rage, his voice rising higher and higher until he was interrupted.
"Stop it, John." Felicity's voice was so steely and icy that her words stopped John in his tracks, the words dying in his throat. Her usually warm brown eyes were so dark and piercing that John's previous thoughts evaporated. The look on Sherlock's face, John realized, was so sorrowful that it made John sad. His words must have been such a betrayal, such a wound to Sherlock, despite the fact that they were true. John had a right to be angry, to be sad, but he didn't have a right to rage at Sherlock when it wasn't his fault. "You've both suffered," Felicity added in a much softer tone, her brief moment of strength quickly fading away. There was a hefty moment of silence as John and Sherlock stared at each other and Felicity looked determinedly at the carpet.
"Well, come in, get comfy, and I'll put the kettle on." John said finally, his voice relieved yet a bit shaky as he made to walk into the kitchen. Felicity saw his knees tremble to support his weight and she shot up, took him by the shoulders, and gently set him down in the armchair in less than thirty seconds.
"Sit. I'll take care of it." Felicity murmured, and vanished into the kitchen. She could hear Sherlock and John talking quietly, but she started to tune them out as emotion threatened to crush her. The kitchen of 221B didn't look at all like it had the last time she was here. All of the scientific equipment and experiments were blatantly removed. The table was empty, the clear surface mocking her as she filled the kettle with water and put in on the stove with shaking hands. Ignoring Sherlock's advice, Felicity wrestled with her emotions and bottled them up. She loathed sentiment because whenever it showed its face, Felicity lost control of herself. That terrifying feeling was something that Felicity hadn't been able to handle at school. Felicity could only rely on herself, and that meant being in control every moment of every day.
It didn't take Felicity long to find the tea and more bitter memories popped up as she easily reached all the cabinets to get the things she needed. The last time she'd been here, Sherlock had to pick her up to put her on the bar stools around the table. Since then, Felicity had grown by almost four feet in a painful growth spurt that gave the others girls at the Academy just another reason to hate her. Felicity was tall, bony and thin while everyone else was average. Some days, Felicity longed to be normal and then loathed herself for wanting something so mean and mundane. When the water was ready, Felicity steeped the tea, prepared the cups according to the men's preferences, and then carried them back into the living room. Sherlock and John were leaning forward in their chairs, staring at each other with such intensity they could probably burn a hole in each other's foreheads. At Felicity's entrance they seemed to snap out of it, leaning back slowly, tearing their glances away from each other and to Felicity.
She wordlessly passed each cup to each man and then sat on their couch, curling into a ball so that she could watch her two friends over her knees. All she wanted to do was lay there with her eyes closed so that she could slowly adjust to her new situation, but Felicity knew that what she wanted wasn't going to happen when there were careful footsteps heading up to 221B. Sherlock checked his watch as Mycroft appeared in the doorway, expression smooth and calm. "You're getting slow, Mycroft." Sherlock said, but the taunting tone to his voice was gone, replaced with a light, half-heated attempt at teasing to lighten the mood. Mycroft gave him a strained smile as he stepped in, closing the door behind him.
"You're getting reckless." He replied, leaning against his umbrella and studying his brother. Sherlock attempted a tight smile in return. Any normal brothers would run and hug each other at such an emotional reunion, but Sherlock and Mycroft did not have that normal relationship.
"Did you tell Mummy?" Sherlock asked and Mycroft nodded. Sherlock visibly relaxed, leaning back more into his chair and passing a brief hand over his face. "Thank you," Sherlock said gratefully, running a quick hand through his hair. His return was reminding him every second of someone he had been hurt by his disappearing act.
"I can't stay long, Sherlock. There is everything from alerts for missing children to bomb threats happening today." Mycroft sighed, looking truly regretful. He wasn't above spending time with his brother to learn what had happened- on the contrary. Sherlock waved a hand dismissively, having processed Mycroft's want to stay since he walked in the door.
"I understand, Mycroft. Duty calls." Sherlock said, and something changed in Mycroft's expression as he figured out what Sherlock had been doing the past few years. Sherlock had answered a call to destroy Moriarty just like Mycroft received calls daily to protect their country. At that remark, Mycroft gave him a nod, turning to sweep out and balking when he noticed Felicity for the first time.
"Ms. Muller! This is a surprise." Mycroft said, crossing the room to shake her hand, his eyebrows coming down slightly as he instantly started deducing Felicity with a practiced eye. The two of them shook hands, Felicity blatantly ignoring how Mycroft was analyzing her.
"Mycroft," Felicity greeted him, the ghostly smile returning to her face. "It's good to see you again."
"Yes, quite. Will you be in London for long? I would be delighted if we had tea again while you are here." Mycroft offered, and her smile started to become more genuine. Having tea with Mycroft the last time had been such a pleasant and eye-opening experience that Felicity had caught herself longing for another visit while she'd been at school. Every second spent with Mycroft taught Felicity something, and to a genius, that feeling was addicting.
"I'm not sure on the duration of my stay, but I'd love to pencil you in somewhere." Felicity said softly, and Mycroft gave her a nod as well, straightening his suit coat.
"I'll be in touch," He announced to the room before sweeping out. As his footsteps died, Felicity started to laugh weakly as a sudden realization dawned on her. The last time she'd seen Mycroft in 221B, he'd done almost the exact same thing; on both occasions he had completely ignored John.
"Felicity, are you ok?" The doctor in question asked, looking at her with worry. The lighthearted giggles he was used to hearing had morphed into hoarse, choking laughter. It didn't suit Felicity in the slightest, and only made John more aware that something had happened.
"Fine. I'm laughing because every time I catch Mycroft's attention he seems to completely ignore you, John." Felicity laughed, and John chuckled despite his worries. He knew that Felicity would speak when she was ready. For the moment, he was so overwhelmed with seeing her again and the reappearance of his friend, Sherlock Holmes that he couldn't find the words to press her on it.
"We should go and see Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said, rising and going over to Felicity, offering her a hand up. Felicity nodded, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. Seconds later, cars screamed to a halt outside of the flat, red and blue lights flashing. Officers were leaping from their cars, pouring into Baker Street. Boots pounded up the stairs and officers fanned out, guns raised for Sherlock's head.
"Step away from her now!" The officer in charge yelled, and Sherlock slowly released Felicity's hand and took a step away from her, hands rising in defeat. His intelligent eyes swept over the officers, starting to deduce what was happening and why.
"You. Stand up and put your hands where I can see them." Another copper ordered, gesturing for John to get out of his chair. John stood up calmly, coping Sherlock's stance as well as his slightly angry, slightly bemused expression. Felicity slowly raised her arms as well and a female officer tutted at her reaction, coming over and putting an arm around her, urging her out of the flat.
"It's ok honey. It's all over now." The woman told her soothingly, rubbing her bony shoulder. Felicity balked under her touch, twisting out of her grasp. If the officers didn't want her to be submissive, they were here for her. Why?
"What is going on here?" She asked in the same venomous voice Sherlock had heard her wield at one of her bullies. The female cop grimaced put wrapped an arm around her once more.
"You don't have to act anymore. You're safe now." The female cop said, and Felicity stared at her with such a look that she visibly stiffened. A look of understanding suddenly passed over Felicity's face as another man stepped into the room, a CPS badge clipped to his belt. His skin was as dark as ebony, and he carried himself as if he was about to lunge at you. His presence was unsettling.
"Felicity Georgiana Muller?" He asked gravely, stepping forward.
"I understand why you are here, but I'm afraid there has been a mistake." Felicity continued in her dangerous voice, eyes fixed on the man. Sherlock scowled, realizing as well what was going on, but poor John was still in the dark, watching the exchange between the man and Felicity closely.
"My name is Eugene Block with Child Protection Services. If you come with me, we can get you back to where you belong." He continued as if she hadn't spoken. Felicity strode up to him with the scariest look John had ever seen on anyone's face. Felicity was as white as a sheet, her dark, angry eyes and her flaming red hair making her look incredibly intimidating for someone who was only twelve.
"There is no problem here." She said slowly, carefully, in a voice so furious that the officers in the room turned briefly to look at her in shock. "I would appreciate it if you stopped pointing guns at my friends and I would appreciate it if you left us alone."
"Miss Muller, I understand that you may be upset with your current situation. If you come with me, we can get this all sorted out." Block said firmly, not backing down under her furious stare. "By law, when a child is under suspicion of abduction or has actually been abducted, they must be turned over into the custody of Child Protection Services until an investigation can be performed."
"Abduction?" John spluttered, looking between the cops and Felicity.
"Sir, you are advised to remain silent." The officer who had his gun pointed at John spoke up instantly, cutting John off from saying anything more. The room went silent as Block and Felicity stared each other down. Block was an intimidating man to begin with, but was no match for Felicity's ferocity. He seemed to realize that as he absorbed her drilling gaze.
"Miss Muller, you need to come with me right now." Block repeated sharply when Felicity said nothing. Felicity took a deep breath and then let it go, staring at Block with unmasked hatred. She knew exactly what was happening here; Ruth's Academy had somehow figured out that Sherlock had helped her escape. Any video footage, to someone who didn't know Sherlock's relationship with Felicity, would look an awful lot like Sherlock was kidnapping her. If an investigation had been launched, she would most likely be returned to Ruth's, and that was something that Felicity did not want to happen. However, something about this was wrong, so wrong, and Felicity couldn't figure out what that was. The only way to gather more data would be to go with CPS.
"Fine, let's go." She said softly, her voice losing none of its severity. Block gestured for her to leave first and she did, head held high. The two officers upstairs cuffed John and Sherlock and were escorting them out down the steps when they caught a glimpse of Mrs. Hudson being questioned by another officer. Felicity was already gone by the time they were driven in the back of a squad car to the police station. As soon as the two of them were booked and left in a cell alone, Sherlock started to pace back and forth anxiously. Something was horribly, horribly wrong, Sherlock knew it; he could feel it.
"Sherlock, what the hell is going on? What's happening?" John asked, and Sherlock ruffled his curls in frustration.
"I helped Felicity escape from that prison of a school she was attending. Our departure must have been caught on film. If anyone were to view that film, it would look as if I were abducting Felicity." Sherlock rattled off quickly, his mind not even focusing on his response. He was trying to figure out what was off about the investigation. There was something else, a piece to the puzzle that hadn't been revealed.
"What? That's preposterous! Felicity clearly told the officers that she hadn't been kidnapped! Wouldn't footage from CCTV cameras show that she wasn't under any type of stress like an abducted child would? Speaking of CCTV, what about Mycroft? Wouldn't he have had the authority and the clearance to know of the case and stop it before it even started?" John's brain launched into overdrive as he tried to process.
"I don't know." Sherlock very nearly spat, furious that for the first time in his life he didn't know what was going on. Why hadn't Mycroft caught this? Why had the investigation gone forward despite outright evidence that Felicity left Ruth's under her own steam? Finally, what was staring Sherlock in the face and yet he couldn't see it?
OoOoOoO
A/N: Have some mystery, dear readers! This chapter was hard to write because there are so many reunion-fics out there. I tried to have mine be original, I hope it was ok...? I don't like the dramatic faint or the punch to the face, or the emotional downpour, that stuff is shit, honestly. ANYWAY, yes, a new mystery has arisen along with Sherlock's return! Why is CPS involved? A cyber-hug and a virtual cookie to whoever guesses correctly... :D
And, I am proud to say that along with Sherlock coming back there will also be some feelings...some...JOHNLOCK feelings...(YEAH BOI!) so keep an eye out for what I promised you. I know I asked you guys if it would be ok ages ago but I was completely serious! It's coming! Just...be patient. It's not like I'm keeping you from S3 or anything...right? Right.
As always, your reviews give me miniature heart attacks and I love them, so therefore, I love you as well. Thank you!
Finally, my lovely beta, louisuperwholocked on Tumblr, is an amazingly witty and awesome person and the best beta ever. Thank you!