A week has passed since Curtis was kidnapped and from what his memory tells him, discovered who his sister was. You'd think he'd be with her, catching up and ask where she went to. But for now he was at home resting from the 'traumatic' event. Sure it was to him, but he had gotten over it and just wanted to talk to Hawk- to Helena now. His mother had near wailed glad he was but wanted him to stay overnight in the hospital. No injuries were made as he didn't even remember getting hurt, but remembered how he was taken. Curtis explained to Sherlock at the hospital, that the man named Trevor informed that his friend Lotte was being harassed by his bullies. Naturally -and stupidly Sherlock added- he complied, but only remembered going to his room to leave his stuff and blacked out when something pinched his neck. Sherlock determined with a drug in him that he had a needle injected to his neck, typical trick, not impressed.
Once Curtis' story was explained for Sherlock and John, he asked where Helena was as she wasn't with them. He expected her to be there, John assured she's concerned but currently keeping a distance for his safety. She takes the blame for this whole incident, and even if she could his mother wouldn't want her near the building. The men didn't blame her, as Sherlock had wanted to tell her Trevor was with Moriarty. But never found exactly how to break the news of this to her, knowing she wouldn't believe him. When Curtis was in the ambulance to the hospital, Helena told Sherlock what Trevor was said.
"Jim can help us, leave Sherlock."
The detective knew where Moriarty was taking this with Trevor. He gets Helena and Sherlock loses her. Anger built in his stomach when he heard her tell him that; burn the heart. One he doesn't have but these words he wanted to keep Helena near. Although that became impossible now as when he turned back to her, she was gone from his side.
At the Shaw household, Curtis was in his room and hadn't left or even begin to think how to approach his mother. He felt lied to, and needed to know why Helena was gone and not in their lives. The teen asked Sherlock but he said it was his mother he should ask for this information. He couldn't even respond to her when he came down for food or watch television and she greeted him. He didn't want to concern her, but the fact she didn't pester him like usual was what made him suspicious that she was hiding something. So, he decided today he would 'demand' an explanation.
"Curtis! Dinner's ready!" His mother called from downstairs.
He exhaled and looked into his mirror. "You can do this, just ask 'who is Helena'." He told himself and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.
The beginning of the meal was silent, Curtis barely touching his food mentally yelling at himself to say it. His mother took notice of this, and cleared her throat. "So, tomorrow will you be alright going back to school?" She asked cutting into her meat.
He nodded.
"I understand what happened was traumatic and people will ask questions." She started taking a bite, Eileen peaked at her son who stared at his potato. "And if they do, you don't have to tell them anything. It's none of their business."
He nodded again poking the vegetable.
Growing concerned she put her fork down and reached to her son's chin to lift his face to see. But he only moved his head away, Eileen's concern grew at that. "If you're still not alright, we can wait another week for school. Still haven't told me anything about what happened. Told Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson."
Still he spoke not a word, now piercing the baked potato's skin.
Eileen thought for a moment then tapped the table with her hand. "I know, we can call in a friend you can talk to." She stood and went over to her phone book on the side table with the phone. "I know a few consultants just for the-"
SLAM
She spun to her son who slammed his hands on the table, to Eileen's shock -not the slamming bit- her own son was looking hard at her. She was a bit scared, that look was the same as her's.
"Are you alright, Cur-"
"Mum." He spoke taking a few breaths to get his courage out. Eileen was a bit scared but kept her look of concern on. "Why did you hide her from me?"
Eileen feared this; she heard from Mr. Holmes that he did indeed find out who Helena was, as she 'disobeyed' and left anyway. With a straight face, the mother stuck her nose up in the air looking to the wall. "It was for your own good and for the family's own good." She told.
"I should have a right to know who is part of this family." He told standing erect. "Especially my own sister."
His mother turned to him. "She is not part of this family."
Curtis chewed his lip in thought. Reading Sherlock does this on John's blog; he took the chair his mother sat in and put it in the opened area, then took his own and placed it across from her and sat down, crossing his arms and legs in wait.
"What are you doing?" She questioned his odd upfront behavior.
"I want all the answers to my questions, if you're not going to give them to me then I might as well go back out there and ask my sister myself." He told glaring her chair awaiting her choice.
Not wanting him to do so, she complied and sat down across from him. "She's not your sister." She muttered near childishly.
"Then what is she?"
Eileen looked right into his eyes. "A mistake." Curtis leaned back seeing the hate in his mother's eyes. Not towards him, but to Helena. "She always was different from the other kids. Never minding her own business, getting into trouble and coming home filthy with injuries." She scoffed, "Your father tried to hide it from me, but I knew. A black sheep is all she is, now with filth just like her."
Curtis shook his head, not believe what was coming out of his mother's mouth. "That was so bad? Just because she was different?" His hand rubbed his forehead.
"Dear, she did more than just that." Her eyes went to a photo of her and her husband resting on the wall. "She did something horrible that changed this family."
Curtis followed her gaze and looked back to her with knitted brows. "What?"
With a inhale, his mum answered, "She killed your father."
Fingers typed away as John Watson was writing their recent case, though a title hasn't been given yet, he didn't even know if he would publish this one on his blog. This said case was of the teenager Curtis Shaw asking Sherlock Holmes to find his long lost sister, bring her back, and find out what happened to her. Though said detective labeled it 'unsolved' still, John counts it as enough to start writing. He found her, brought her back -sort of- and now it was his time to find out the truth.
The doctor looked up to give his fingers a break peering at the sight of the flat. Sherlock was currently on his laptop looking through emails in that bored fashion of his. To his surprise, Helena had actually stayed at the flat for the past week not even left. Whenever he or Sherlock left she'd be here sitting somewhere in her own world, silent and not looking or talking to anyone. The males didn't complain about her stay and didn't mind it; she slept on the couch, ate what Mrs. Hudson made, and stayed out of anyone's -Sherlock's- way. John wondered how long this would last, she likes freedom and to stretch her body out for a good run. Maybe the jump made her hesitant to return to her usual canter around London. Thought no one brought it up, it was obvious Sherlock kept an eye on her.
John would see how the two would interact silently when they passed each other or when she was sitting looking bored or just plain sad. He would make her tea the way she liked it, hand her a book for her to read from his shelf, and most of all played his violin which lead to her fall asleep. Of course, this didn't start from the first day. John kept up on this as it nearly turned into a daily routine for over ten days.
John would wake up to her on the couch still sleeping, if awake she'd be lying there almost wanting to go back to sleep. Sherlock emerged and would start his experiments or go to Bart's morgue to get or work on more stuff. John had talked to her or tried to a few days only to have her give a shoulder of silence. Around noon Sherlock would make tea for her and himself as John was out to shop or job search. She didn't accept it from him at first, but soon did and the detective enjoyed the silent tea time between them until Mrs. Hudson made her way up with some treats. In the Evening when John returned, he would ask Sherlock about dinner, always leading to take out if there was a new body part in the fridge. Another attempt to get Helena to talk was to ask if she wanted anything, but never gets a word out.
One morning, two were eating breakfast. Sherlock spotted the tramp trying to reach a book out of her reach. John noticed the paused eating of his flat mate and looked up following Sherlock's gaze. Though he only watched to see if she'd get it, John cleared his throat getting the detective's attention. John nodded toward her with raised brows, giving the notion to help her. Sherlock furrowed his brows at him and looked back down at his food, thinking she did fine on her own. That was proven wrong as Helena was at this for a good five minutes before huffing in aggravation, she took the blanket over John's chair and pouted on the couch covering herself and over the head with it. Said man looked over at Sherlock expectedly, was this going to be one of his 'she can get over it' moments? Clearing his throat, John kept pestering him to help her; tapping his fork, whistling, and even Finally sick of the annoyance, he got up trudged and into the room like a teenager forced to do a chore.
He stopped in the middle of the room eyeing Helena, though he didn't see what book she wanted, the detective strode over taking whatever book was out of her reach. John watched Sherlock stroll across to Helena and hold the book out to her despite with her wrapped in a blanket, couldn't see Sherlock's act of 'kindness'. The man waved the book wanting her to already take it from his hand, soon he just dropped it on the table and turned to continue his meal.
"Happy?" Sherlock asked John as he bit into his toast.
John mumbled, "Such a child." but the flatmate ignored the insult.
Breakfast done, one out of the two flatmates went off to shower leaving Sherlock to watch Helena hiding under the blanket. Sure that night was pretty off to her, he thought either she was scared from jumping off the building or what happened to Curtis. No, he knew what it was. It was just a calm act for John, Sherlock was honestly glad to have Helena sitting around here. After seeing her- He instinctively closed his eyes and shook his head to rid the replaying image in his mind.
The detective had tried all night and morning to delete this from his mind palace, but no matter how hard he tried it wouldn't go away. Closing his eyes, fingers to his temples; he gave another try. The screaming, the heart wrenching feeling, the pain. He didn't like what this memory was making him feel.
No! He can't, he has to delete this! Feelings weren't for him, he was a sociopath! This memory made his heart sink, giving him a sick feeling, sweat try to produce through his skin, and brought.. was this fear? Fear of Helena hurting or, dying from her jump. She may have if he and Lestrade hadn't caught her or her angle wasn't too close to the cop cars.
"Sherlock?" Eyes snapped open to find the said tramp standing in front of him, blanket wrapped around her still but with her free hand held the book he gave her. Was she to thank him? "I umm, I can't read this."
His brows lowered, sure it wasn't the she was trying to get a book none the less. "What's wrong with it, you wanted a book did you not?"
Her tired eyes looked down to it then to his own. "Yes, I did. But I don't understand Russian."
Sherlock looked at the book in her hand, it was indeed a Russian novel. "..Oh." He took it and went over to the case returning it, then turned to her. "Which one did you want?"
Hesitating, she maneuvered over to him and looked up. Helena scanned the bookshelf, but turned away. "It's not there, I thought it was."
"What was?"
She sighed sitting on the couch. "The Walkaway. Maybe I imagined it." Re-wrapping the blanket, she let it over her head and curled up facing the couch.
Sherlock thought over the title, he was sure he had it. Looking over his selves, he found out it was indeed not there. Where the hell did it go? He found himself later checking under the buried papers at the table, then through the kitchen moving the plates just next to the sink, and finally strode into his room to see if he left it in there. Sure the rest of the flat was a mess but he usually never leaves his room close to being off balance. Only time it was would be when Helena took her naps in there, at least he stop with accusing her of 'dirtying' his bed with her 'filth'.
John emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh from his shower to find Helena still on the couch but Sherlock gone, he didn't hear him pass the door into his room so he assumed he went to change. Said doctor made it for the stairs, but paused hearing the dark haired man return with a book in his hand. The bloody thing was hiding in his side table drawer with a paper in it, so Helena left it there as he's read it enough times already. John watched as Sherlock removed the blanket from her head and presented the book to her. Her smile was soft taking it and giving Sherlock a thanks before opening it to continue her reading. Little did Sherlock know John spotted a softer smile on his lips seeing Helena was pleased with his true act of kindness.
This went on and to John's surprise Sherlock was treating her much better then when she had her eye injury. He offered what was left of his food or even his full meal when he wasn't hungry from morning to evening. Leaving the remote by the couch for her to watch TV, with him giving his input now and then letting the girl have a good laugh. John didn't know what happened when he was out on a random blind date, job searching, or just food shopping so he assumed it was the same as him there. But when he was gone, Sherlock would act kinder without the doctor's eyes watching him. The detective would give her new books to read when she finished, hack into John's laptop for her to use for any internet entertainment. Though he wasn't one for it, he did help navigate video sights as she hadn't been using the internet being homeless for years. Hell took her a good while to figure out how to text on her cell phone. And the one thing late at night John could hear, was Sherlock playing his violin of soft somber music, lulling Helena to sleep.
It wasn't until John noticed that Helena didn't seem to be leaving by the 5th day. She never stayed that long without even going near a window, she didn't even give it a glance. He grew worried, but if he brought it up he didn't want to possibly upset her if it was what he thought.
There was a few times Helena was alone in the flat, John and Sherlock were both out, sadly as was Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock was called to Lestrade and John followed with him, the two tried to coax her to come with them, but only told Sherlock she was fine alone. Though she didn't expect Mrs. H to had left earlier that morning.
Sitting there staring at the television not really paying attention to what was on, currently on commercial. Though it wasn't her main focus, her mind wandered off. Curled in Sherlock's chair, the soft wool blanket wrapped around her tightening herself more into a ball. Helena grew comfortable and found herself to fall asleep in the chair not hearing the door creak open behind her.
It felt longer and more tortuous; the repeated dream made her feel construction in her breath and body restricted from movement. All she kept seeing was her brother falling from her grip, that face of who she once considered her only family, then herself growing closer to the ground below. Wishing to wake up every time she make contact with the ground, it only repeated over and over again. Growing louder and harder to breath or move, only wishing to be rid of this horror.
A touch on her arm threw her back into the real world. Sweat peeling through her skin, arms trembling down to her fingertips, eyes wide with terror seeing the man who awoke her.
"Did I catch you at a bad time?"
Helena glared the man and slapped his hand away roughly, "It's bad enough your brother sees me like this.." She cleared her dry throat and stood to get a drink from the kitchen.
Mycroft watched her get a bottle of cold water from the fridge, she checked if it was opened before doing so herself and jugged a good amount. "Why not simply leave if you wish he didn't?" He asked leaning on his umbrella casually.
Helena sent another glare wiping her mouth, she returned with her water and made her way to the couch feeling the coffee table was a wall between her and the government man. Though he kept to his spot, he soon took seat to John's chair facing her. While she glared, he just smiled in that smug way of his.
"It's been nearly a week and no response." He spoke twisting the cane of his umbrella.
"And?"
"I simply came to make sure you weren't kidnapped, again. Or hanging from a building."
Her eyes narrowed hugging the blanket closer to her after putting the bottle on the table. "You saw?"
"Cameras."
"Of course." She grunted looking away from his gaze. "Did you know?"
He gave a puzzled look, fake or not was hard to determine. "Know what? That your brother was foolishly taken by the man you thought you could trust or-"
"You know what!" She barked letting her voice crack. "You knew Trevor was with Moriarty. You knew, Sherlock knew, even John knew. You all knew and never told me!"
Mycroft took a breath. "Did you think to believe if we ever did?
Her jaw locked up at that inquisition. Sure she had asked Sherlock- no demand Sherlock where Trevor had gone. He either ignored the question or changed the subject. She remembers telling Mycroft about this as well.
"I was hoping to find Trevor and ask him. He saw it happen."
"Are you so sure?"
Helena dug her nails deep into her blanket, of course his words were a warning. Or at least a hint to rethink her words on what Trevor-
"Wait, Mycroft!" She stood noticing he was now making his exit to the door. He paused turning to her. Biting her lip, Helena gulped and asked, "What was Trevor r-really doing when I lost my sight?"
Mycroft watched her, fear was in her eyes to find out the true horror of what her once was long friend truly doing and his intentions back then. The brother knew everything and everyone- it was his job as the government, but pleasure as Mycroft Holmes. "It's not my job to answer this."
She exhaled pressing her hands together and knotting them up feeling clammy. "You know who to ask." And with that, the elder Holmes made his leave not planning to see the younger Holmes. Not today.
The sound of a phone buzzing caught her attention, her phone sat on the table between the windows. She straddled over the coffee table taking it hoping it was from Sherlock wanting to ask more than ever. To her dismay, it was just a text from Mycroft.
Sherlock will be needing you.
Don't let his answer change you.
-MH
The next afternoon of a surprisingly warm spring day proved how May was ending, and the summer of June was arriving. Although it wouldn't last long as warm days were rare enough it felt like winter all year long in England.
Sherlock was dressing for the day buttoning his white dress shirt when a knock came on the door. Knowing it wasn't Helena, he called "What is it John?" as Helena never knocks and was sleeping on the couch currently.
The doctor came in standing halfway in as Sherlock tucked his shirt in. "Are you busy?" He asked, he himself dressed in one of his many plain dress shirts.
"If this has to do with figuring your password out, try harder." He told not batting an eye to his flat mate buttoning his cuffs.
John was about to answer, but mouth closed and brows narrowed at Sherlock's response. He looked to down the hall where his poor multiple violated laptop sat. Holding back a remark to the action, "Uh, no, no it doesn't." he entered and closed the door behind him.
"A client?" He asked getting his black blazer on making sure the lapel wasn't folded over.
"Nope. This is about Helena." John got to the point finally getting Sherlock to take a glance at him.
"What about her?"
Hands folded behind his back he cleared his throat to get his thoughts out. "Well, it has been over a week- nearly two since the incident with Curtis." Sherlock 'hm-hmmed' for him to continue. "She hasn't left this flat since and is barely talking to us."
Buttoning the blazer he finally turns to the doctor seeing his clothing look fine in the mirror. "Where are you going with this, John?"
"It's just that this isn't like Helena. Sure she visits and has had some moments-"
"Moments?" He questioned with narrowed brows.
"Everyone does when traumatic events occur; little to no appetite, frustrations, social withdrawal-"
"She seems social with me." Sherlock pointed out.
"Yes with you, but not Mrs. Hudson nor I. She keeps getting messages on her phone but never responds to them or touch it."
Sherlock walked over to his bed sitting down to put his shoes on. "If from my brother, I wouldn't respond either."
John didn't even want to ask why Mycroft would message her, clearly something that went over his head that didn't concern him right now. "How about the little appetite?" He asked with now folded arms.
"She eats fine of what portions I have to give."
"Mood swings?"
"That's normal in women."
"How about the night terrors?" Sherlock paused to answer, getting his shoes on firmly and standing he sighed.
"I know there is, John. What do you expect me to do? Go straight to her and tell her she's suffering from Post traumatic Stress Disorder?" He asked sharply.
"Not straightforwardly, but yes. She needs to get out there." John motioned to the window.
Sherlock scoffed getting his phone off his bedside table checking for messages. "Thought you would 'scold' me for not treating her right. After all, don't these things need to be taken delicately?"
John half turned bringing a hand down his mouth to his chin, Sherlock wasn't wrong. John went through this when returning from Afghanistan, after meeting Sherlock the cases and crime solving really helped him. He guessed it would do the same for Helena, but he once offered her to go with Sherlock when called by Lestrade only to deny it and go to his room to nap. Anything mentioned about going outside she went quiet or left the room.
"Am I wrong?" Sherlock questioned glancing up from his texting with a raised brow.
Breaking his thought, he answered, "No, no you're not. But how do we get her… her back?" He tried to word out.
The detective shrugged. "Try to take her out, you haven't talked with her at all and I've been doing all the hard work." John's jaw dropped at those words. Him? Him!? He was sounding like a wife complaining about doing all the house work.
"Easier said than done." The doctor mumbled as Sherlock made his way to the door leaving the room.
John followed, the two finding Helena by the window looking outside. It brightened the doctor a bit, Sherlock paused in getting his coat finding himself with the same feeling with her by her door to freedom. Though she showed no intentions of going out said 'door', it was the only improvement they saw of her for the past week. Hearing the creaking of the wood below their feet, Helena turned seeing Sherlock tying his scarf around her neck.
"To Bart's, Molly has a sample for me to use on a case Lestrade wants me to solve. Shouldn't take long." He assured quickly looking to her not needing her to ask. Helena nodded and turned back, Sherlock gave John a wink and made his leave down and out of the flat.
John chewed his inner cheek, how can he get Helena out?
That was surprisingly easier than he assumed.
"You still have trouble with the machine?" Helena asked, hood over her head and hands shoved into her jacket pocket as she walked down the street with John.
"Eh, yea. It's got it in for me." He joked with a followed chuckle.
"What makes you think I can work it? Have you forgotten I don't go there as often as you do, I don't use the machines." She told looking to him.
"How do you buy foods?" He asked.
"I don't get them at big markets, just small convenience stores. For others, that's a different story." The two stopped at a red light crosswalk.
John looked to a building on his left seeing a ladder to get to the roof. "Helena, why don't you go ahead of me?"
She looked to him confused, he pointed over and she turned seeing the ladder. Helena looked up at the height of the building but looked away instantly tugged her hood. "No, I don't.. want to leave you behind." She excused.
John pushed it. "No, it's alright. You haven't been out for a while so you're probably itching for a good run." He looked to her, she turned giving a deadpan look. John innocently asked, "What?"
"I'm not an idiot John, I know what you and Sherlock talked about." She admitted making her way across the street.
He jogged after her. "We're trying to help-"
"Ever thought maybe I just don't want to be outside?"
"We did, that's what's concerning." She looked to him with a raised brow. "Helena, Hawkeye not wanting to go outside?" He tilted his head.
Helena thought on his words, and sighed in defeat. "Yea, I can imagine that is concerning." Silent for a moment for another block, she asked, "Is this how you felt?"
"Hm?"
"When coming back from Afghanistan. Just.." She exhaled trying to find the right words. "Like you can't escape from what you've seen or experienced. It repeats in your mind without-"
"Any control? ..Yea." He nodded smiling gently to her. "When I returned I had a therapist, and she suggested I make a blog of having a normal life, that adjusting would be harder. It was harder than I imagined." Helena listened moving from nearly walking into a by stander.
"Barely slept, no appetite, even gained trust issues." John added. "My blog was empty and I struggled just to go out."
Helena chewed her lip. "What got you out?"
John shrugged, "Can't say, I guess the thought of maybe tiring myself would help me sleep or find something to happen in my life."
"Did it?"
He chuckled giving his chin a scratch as the arrived at the food mart, he smiled to her. "Well, that was a day an utter jerk came into it." John went ahead into the building leaving Helena to his words.
The day he decided to go out, his life had indeed changed. He met Sherlock Holmes. The tramp shook her head and removed her hood entering to follow through the aisles with John Watson.
It was a treat to be shopping with John, she gone with him a few times but waited outside and helped him carry the bags mostly. Helena saw a lot of food she hadn't ever set her sights on and was highly curious to the taste. When she wasn't looking, John snuck a box of jimmy dodgers in his basket for her. The duo got the needed items, milk, bread, jam; small amount but needed items. John at times over though on things for the fridge since they at times ended up thrown out with Sherlock constantly holding the said large appliance with body parts.
"Want to try the machine?" John offered as they made it to the self check-out.
Helena looked up getting the items ready in the basket. She took a good look at the machine, then to John. "Did you forget the part of 'I don't know how to work it'?"
John took her by the shoulders and gently lead her to the front of the machine. "It instructs you, don't worry."
Trusting John, Helena didn't want to look stupid with a line building behind her. The screen showed the selections, one she found 'scan items'. She pressed her finger to the button, the screen transitioned to a three picture instruction. Though she jumped when the voice loudly came out, "Slide the bar code on the items across the scanner below."
Her eyes went to John to nodded to her to do as instructed. A sigh escaped her as she picked up the milk, tilting the jug she found the bar code and quickly slid it across the red light.
"Item not scanned. Please try again." John dreaded this, but noticed Helena held it too high from the scanner.
"Put it right against the red light." He told, she repeated the process.
"One milk."
Helena continued, with John helping her to go slower or closer to the scanner. He was glad they seemed to have fixed the machine since last time. When she got all the items, the tramp got flustered on what to do next, with nothing more to scan.
"Here." John handed her his credit card, pressing the button 'pay now'.
"Please insert debt or credit card to pay." It told them, which John near hesitated.
Helena held the card up, she noticed the picture on the screen showing how to put it in. She noticed it was backwards and quickly fixed so before pushing it in. John punched in his pin number.
"Card not authorized. Please use an alternative method of payment."
John's heart sank at those words. "Shit." He cussed and checked his other pockets if he had cash on him this time.
"Don't tell me this happened that one time-"
"Yea, it did. Damn.." Sadly he found no cash. Helena pressed the 'eject card' and gave it back to prevent him from losing it again. "You wouldn't happen to have money on you?"
She gave a guilt look, "I don't carry cash with me.." She admitted, "I think my card is back at the flat."
John felt it wasn't her fault but he himself should've been prepared. "Well, guess we'll have to-"
"Payment accepted." The two turned seeing someone had already stuck their debit card in the slot paying for the items when the two weren't looking.
"Why is it I have to pay for everything?" Sherlock questioned as he received his card back with a receipt.
A bit shocked by him being there out of the blue, the two took the bags and followed him out the door. "I thought you went to Bart's."
"Me too." He retorted and added, "I couldn't with my case still open."
Helena was a bit confused until she looked past Sherlock seeing a certain teen standing a few feet from the market entrance. He waved innocently wearing his uniform, fresh from school. Sherlock took her arm as she looked up feeling her heart pound, wanting to run. She looked to John who had that look of fault. Ah, this is why John got her out.
"He needs this closed, both of you." Sherlock told.
Helena wanted her arm free yanking it to get out of Sherlock's grip. "He knows his sister, that's all he needs to know." She told refusing to look at anyone.
"Helena," John spoke seeing her react the way he feared. "We need to have this done. As Sherlock said you both need closure."
"What more could there be!?" Her voice rose gaining eyes from others entering and exiting the market.
"Our dad."
She froze, her eyes slowly moved up from glaring the pavement to see her brother had approached. He looked better since the incident, she was glad. But the very mention of their father she saw his pleading eyes, her heart ached at the look. Sherlock felt her struggle die down and let his grip loosened, but not completely.
"Helena, sis." He gulped his dry throat stepping closer, he reached down and gently took her hand. His soft ones to her slightly rougher ones. "Please tell me about our father."
Thank you morikhelek13, littleanjel, four-fifty, MarieSeleneArroyo, Fictionlover012298, Tai-Ookami, KilalaInara, ninjagirlA2O, xxDignity, Regin, , Red of Dawn, Odette13, aliaswriter, 1525, ashleydiana105, uzumaki49, Buggy98,bLiteratureCat, icecoatedsha, for the favorites and follows for the story!
Lunar678- Thanks! I did the last chapter early to be ahead of time. Holidays are coming around so looking for a job and finally getting the room painted. Glad you're enjoying the story! =D
MyCatDoesMyLaundry- Thanks for the understanding. Yea, it is sad these things happen.
We've gladly discovered my hard drive is NOT the problem so everything I have is saved! It's the CD drive that's the problem so my dad is fixing it today. Sorry if there's a lot of spelling errors, this was half written on my tablet and other half on my mom's laptop which sucks with typing.
Two days late, but the story is a year old! Surprised this isn't done but proud I kept going thanks to you guys!