The first thing Elizabeth's eyes gazed upon once regaining consciousness was the blinding white light above her. Usually this meant that she was either dying or is already dead, but when her vision started to become clear, the light that shone came from the ceiling above her. Instead of being at death's door, she was in a room, not Sherlock's bedroom or her own. In fact, she was in a hospital room, getting suffocated by the how tight the blanket was tucked around her. When she tried to get up to get a sense of where everyone was, she fell back down onto the softness of the pillow; she reached a hand up towards her head, a headache suddenly appeared, causing her to scream out in agony.
The last thing she remembered was being held down by that man that was with her, they were fighting over a gun. After that, the other part of the story was just a blur, when she tried to think really hard about what happened, her head only strained more; again she called out for help. Starting to panic, she tried to grab the handles on the side of the bed, only to fall back down with much greater force than before.
When she realised that moving out of the bed was impossible, she buried her hands into her face; reflecting on what has happened to her in just 24 hours, water droplets fell down her cheeks as she tried to hold back the sobs that forced its way up her throat. Gathering herself together, wiping the tears from her eyes, she decided to call out for someone, as she suddenly became very thirsty.
"Someone? Anyone?" the first word was more like a choke than words, "Help? Please!?"
Straight away, the doors in front of her opened and stepping inside the room was none other than Sherlock. Never did she think that there was a way of seeing him again after she wrote goodbye to him.
"Sh- Sherlock?" she said, reaching out a hand towards him, hoping for him to return the gesture. Instead, he closed the door behind him and sat down on the open chair that sat next to her bed, continuously staring at her without saying a word.
"Wha- What happened?" she gazed around the room, wondering why she here and not fighting over a gun, "Where's Mo- Moriarty? Where's John?"
"John left to get your belongings from your old house an hour ago, before the police take it away as evidence. I said that it could wait, but he said it couldn't. As for Moriarty, who know? But that doesn't matter now,"
"Really? You've just found out that your archenemy is somehow back from the dead and all that you can say is that it doesn't matter?"
"He's probably thinking the same thing. You think he's finished this whole game of his?" Sherlock asked, receiving a shrug from Elizabeth, "No, he hasn't. I don't know why he fled in the car, but we'll find out eventually. For now-"
Getting up from the seat, Sherlock walked over the water bottle that sat further away from Elizabeth's reach and picked it up; then passing it over to her, "-you need to rest. I'll be outside if you need me."
"Wait Sherlock!" he stopped and turned to face her, "You're not going anywhere! Sit back down!"
Without hesitating, he sat back down, knowing what questions were about to be thrown at him. Shuffling in his chair, he got comfortable and looked her straight in the eye.
"Right, you're not going anywhere till you answer my questions. You owe me that, first why am I in a hospital?"
"You didn't get shot, but your head was constantly slammed into the floor that in caused concussion. Next question,"
"Is Sebastian dead?"
"Yes, you want to know how?"
"I know how. I'm not that stupid," she turned her head to look at somewhere other than Sherlock, "I shot him, didn't I? You don't have to answer, I know I did, kind of lucky that I did or else I'd be dead. Next question and I want you to answer truthfully: What happens to me now?"
At the end of that question, the door opened and entered Mycroft, looking completely casual and just like Elizabeth last saw him. Looking into his eyes, Elizabeth tried to find any sense of emotion that could change the way she thought of him. Surprisingly, she could see sadness-for once-in his eyes.
"Sherlock, you can leave now," For once, he didn't argue with his brother and left the room, closing the door shut firmly behind him, leaving father and daughter to sat silent towards each other, until Elizabeth spoke out.
"What are you doing here Mycroft?"
"I wanted to apologize for my behaviour towards you. I haven't acted like the father I'm supposed to be, it's just hard to think about me actually looking after you without you getting hurt. My job is a dangerous job, and considering what has just happened today, it makes matters worse. Please Elizabeth, forgive me,"
"I don't know if I can...Dad," she looked away again as she did with Sherlock, "I mean, Sherlock's accepted me more and considering what I've heard from his history, his job is more dangerous than yours,"
"We're both in dangerous situations, you have to understand why I sent you back to live with your mother."
"And look how that turned out," remembering what happened to her mother, she started to cry, not caring to look brave for him anymore. All of the pain of the last month smothered her, "My mother's dead. You once loved her, what happened?"
"We change Elizabeth, just like everyone else. You're right, I did love her once. I still do, that's why I need you to forgive me and let me look after you. I can take care of you,"
"So if I forgive you, you take care of me and let me live with you, wherever you live?"
"Yes, exactly."
"Well maybe I don't want that, maybe I want to be in a place where people actually see me as who I am, not a dangerous target like you do,"
"Wait," getting up from his chair, he paced up and down the room; his hands firmly gripping the handle of his umbrella, "I asked you to forgive me, are you saying no?! Then where is this place you want to go then, hmm?"
"Dad," she grabbed hold of his arm to stop him from walking and look into her eyes, "Even though you might have been the biggest bastard of the month, you're still my dad, nothing will change that. But I don't want to live with you, and I know you don't want me around. I know that you'll try to take care of me and I appreciate that, I just don't want to be a nuisance. I'll live somewhere else, I just hope they say yes, that's all."
"Where Elizabeth?" he sat back down and took her hands in his, "I will look after you, just tell me where you want to be?"
"With Sherlock and John, in 221B. I know they'll probably see me as a nuisance also, but their more understanding. Yes, I know your job is very risky, being the British government rolled into one single person. That's why I want to live there, John seems to like me, especially when I help around the house. I think Sherlock appreciates my little deductions at crime scenes, haven't got anything wrong so far. Mrs Hudson likes when I visit her and help her with cooking and listen to her problems. Somehow I feel like I belong there, I just hope that they agree with me."
Both stayed silent for a moment just staring at each other with sadness, their father-daughter relationship was at a downhill and both of them were free to admit it. It was Mycroft who first made a move. Raising from the chair, he bent down and gently kissed Elizabeth's forehead. He took one last look at her before turning away from the bed and towards the door. When he reached it, he turned his head to face her again.
"I'm so sorry, for everything." Was all he said before he opened the door and left her alone again, in silence.
At least she was honest, she thought. It was safe to say that her family wasn't normal, but she liked it that way. It would take a couple of weeks until she forgave her father, but in the meantime, all she had to do was take life as it was. So many things worried her future: how will she get into a college, get a career, start a new life, live life knowing that the man who kidnapped her is out there in the shadows, waiting to pounce at the right moment.
"All in good time," she said, before falling back to sleep.
It was late at night in the hospital ward. Patients were asleep and nurses dozed off while sat down at their computers. Outside of Elizabeth's room, Sherlock and John sat next to each other, both being the only ones guarding the door in case something happens to her again. Cups of coffee and tea warmed up their hands as they continued to talk about Mycroft's offer.
"Are you going to say yes?" said John, after taking a sip of tea, "You know having her around might be dangerous. I don't have anything against it, by the way."
"Of course I'm going to say yes. If that is what she wants then who's to say no? It'll be tough at first but after a while, it shouldn't be a problem,"
"Well what about this whole 'Moriarty coming back to life' business?"
"We know he's alive, so we should just continue with our lives but be a bit more cautious than we usually were and that means carrying a gun around with you 24/7. Shouldn't be too hard, I suppose."
"I guess you're right."
"Oh, and John?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry about the whole-"
"Stop saying you're sorry!" John gently nudged Sherlock's shoulder with his own, not intending it to be in a negative sort of way, "I know you're sorry and I forgive you, like I've already said. What you did was stupid, but you had your reasons and I forgive you for that. So we should just return to our normal lives, in addition with a hormonal teenager on our backs. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
Leaning back in their chairs, they sighed and soon after, started to close their eyes shut from the warmth of the room and the warmth of their drinks. Each one smiled happily, knowing that cases would continue, experiments would continue and normal life would start again, but it was like Sherlock said: When have they ever had normal life?
However, once they finally settled down to sleep, something at the end of the corridor woke them up. Instantly, John reached to grab his gun without thinking and Sherlock jumped out of their seat. No one could be seen at the end of the hallway, but what could be seen was an item rolling fast towards them. From afar, it looked like an oddly shaped ball but as it came closer, they could identify it as an apple. The apple brought back memories back to Sherlock, when Moriarty carved those letters into it, just after his trial.
It started to slow down, but not slow enough, so stopping it with his shoe, Sherlock picked up the apple and stared at it intensively. Letters were also carved into the apple he held, but instead of three letters like last time, words formed. As Sherlock turned the apple around, he got the full message the was deeply carved into the crimson red peel and smiled. Two words were formed, not just to Sherlock, but to everyone he had caused great pain to over the years. It wasn't over, their little game had only just begun. The apple read:
The End?
READ THIS or skip if you want to :)
Okay, that was the last chapter, but there will be another chapter which is in a different writing style to what I've been doing in these last chapters. It's up to you If you want to read it, if you don't want to then continue with life but if you do then the next chapter should be up next week.
I have had an amazing time writing this, considering it's my first story. Thank you so much to all the people who have followed/favourite or reviewed this story. It's because of you that makes me smile when I look at all my email notifications :)