First off can I just say how sorry we are for how much later than usual this is. It's examination time so all our time had literary been absorbed by revision and such. We forgot to talk to each other for awhile. However here it is and I hope you enjoy. Hopefully twenty-six will come sooner than this one did.
Several minutes later Sherlock stormed through door and began scanning the room. Obviously looking for Toni. "She's in my room, Sherlock. She's taking a lie down."
"Inconvenient. Wake her up."
John sighed jumping out of his chair. "Fine. I'll go get her. Just go nice on Toni. Be less..."
"Me?"
"Yes. That would be lovely." Making his way to his room John sighed. He has best warn Toni before she got into the living room. He knocked three times before yelling through the door. "Toni! He's here!"
Inside he heard the shuffling of somebody falling out of bed and swearing under their breath. The door creaked open and Toni appeared. Her eyes appeared redder than earlier. Obviously she had been crying. "Sorry about that."
"It's okay. Come on, lets go see Sherlock." And with that they both made their way into the living room.
Sherlock wasn't exactly the most civil person when he saw Toni. He announced her exact weight without consideration and even hinted at some other personal things. Then again she was prepared for it. On the way back to the living room John had said Sherlock would over compensate for the fact he got something wrong. "BUT YOU'RE A WOMAN!"
"Yes?" She replied tentatively. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"Your footprints indicate those of a man." Sherlock frowned, turned around to look out of the window.
"Da didn't raise a girly girl, Mr Holmes." She said with slightly more confidence, Sherlock turned around. "I was raised to be practical. It's easier to get around. To change. To hide. You of all people should know that and the way I walk shouldn't have been the basis of your assumption of my gender. You keep that skull but I don't go around saying that you are covering up for some absent parental figure in your childhood by talking to it like a loved one." There was an awkward silence. John looked back and forth between Sherlock and Toni. Unsure of what was going to occur next. "Sorry, Mr Holmes, but back off a little. My Da just died and I've come to help you. The least you can do is show a little consideration."
Sherlock didn't say anything for awhile. Instead he stood there. Staring at Toni who had the body language of a much more confident person now. "Apologises." He paused, gesturing to John's chair as he sat down in his. "Sit and talk."
Toni slouched in John's chair and looked at her feet for a second, gathering her thoughts, before looking at Sherlock and sighing slightly. She began telling her story; less emotion and less words were spent on this telling of the tale than the time that she told John.
Sherlock leaned forwards from his chair, almost touching the young lady. His eyes flickered back and forth, memorising her every move as she matched her words with gestures. Sherlock nodded every now and then, clenching his jaw when something conflicted with an already thought of and picked though plan.
"So that's it, Mr Holmes." Toni said, leaning back into John's seat. "That's my story. Da told me to keep it quiet like, but I can't. Not with 'im gone. I need you to get the bastard that caused it and lock 'im up."
John hovered behind Sherlock's chair, his fingers drumming against his thigh. Sherlock shot a glance at him, and he stopped drumming.
"Now that you're done," Sherlock said, "we need to put you in a safe house."
"A safe house?" Toni asked, her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline. "I ain't going nowhere, Mr Holmes, until the man that killed me Da is behind bars."
"John..." Sherlock muttered, getting up and walking to the window, "explain it."
"The gang members all died, yes?" John said quietly to Toni, ignoring Sherlock's brooding.
"Yeah. They were murdered." Toni swallowed, hate and pain glimmering in her eyes.
"And what did they do to you?" John said calmly, like he was trying to make friends with a wild, wounded animal.
"Someone tried to kill me." Toni growled.
"And they probably followed you here." John stated, flat out.
"Probably?" Sherlock snorted, "I can tell you what car they're in."
"Shut up, Sherlock." John snapped over his shoulder. "Let me finish."
Toni laughed quickly, but muffled it as John turned back to look at her.
"But they followed you, and they'll try again. So, we need to take you somewhere safe."
"Okay." Toni nodded, "I understand."
Pausing for a moment John wondered where on Earth they were going to place her until she was safe. He didn't know that was for sure. He didn't even know how they were going to get her there. Considering if she was followed. Well no, he knew that was actually true. Sherlock, with his big mouth, had confirmed that. He didn't believe that Toni would go with the Government approach and be placed in some weird locked away building. It needed to be more homely. More personal. There was no way John would trust Sherlock to come up with the place. It would be highly unsuitable. He only knew one person. Was that the best idea? "If you are thinking about the place I think you are," Sherlock announced from the window. "It actually might be a good idea. However unfortunately we shall have to include Mycroft."
John took a double take before nodding. Well that was sorted then, he guessed. He turned back to Toni, smiling reassuringly. "Looks like we have a place suitable already. I just have to sort it out with them and then we can get all the other parties involved and get you safe."
"Thanks, John. Mr Holmes." She smiled weakly. "I really appreciate it. Erm ... I hate to be a bother but it's been a long forty eight hours. I ain't slept much. Would it be possible to lay down for a bit?"
"Yeah, sure." John smiled, "You know where my bedroom is. Please, feel free to spend the night there."
"I don't wanna be a bother..." Toni muttered, a slightly worried look on her face.
Sherlock absent-mindedly drummed his fingers on his hips. "It won't be a bother. John can get into my bed. I won't sleep tonight. Not when I'm on a case."
"He's a little odd." John mouthed at Toni. She giggled and covered her face with both hands. Sherlock turned around a little surprised and raised an eyebrow. John shook his head and stood up.
"If you want to go to bed, do go any time."
"Right," Toni nodded, stifling her laughter, "I really will be off to bed now. Thank you again, John, Mr Holmes."
"No problem." John smiled, watching the young girl leave the room. He turned his gaze to Sherlock. "So... Really?"
"Really." Sherlock nodded, "It will be the perfect place and I'm sure we can convince my darling," he stressed the word, "brother to loan us a security force."
"Well... As long as she's not hurt." John mumbled.
"I guarantee she will not be harmed." Sherlock smiled, "And I can understand how you feel. Even though I myself have no use of emotions, I'd like to think I have somewhat of a collection of knowledge. When it comes to situations like this," he paused, "I think your emotional state is perfectly acceptable."
John sighed and shrugged, "Thanks, I guess. But we are talking about you putting my baby sister in danger. And you know I will never forgive you if she is hurt." His face was suddenly darker than ever. This was a side to John Sherlock had never seen. And, if he was anyone else but Sherlock Holmes, it would have scared him.
"I promise, John. I give you my word that no harm will come to Harry."
"Then I guess I'll call her."
"Obviously not now," Sherlock replied as he jumped into his chair in his usual crouched position. "It is past one in the morning. Harriet goes to bed early."
"How do you know wh- Oh sod it." John muttered as he walked over to stand behind his chair opposite Sherlock. Why did he even bother to ask any more? He clearly didn't learn his lesson three years ago. "Just go easy on Toni too, yeah? Last thing we want is two pissed females. It is bad enough with Harry. We don't need another one, especially with a waist and arm injury, yelling at us."
Sherlock remained silent momentarily. His hands pressed together in the thinking position he had come accustom to. "Indeed. Hormone imbalances within women are not pleasant experiences."
"Right," John said tentatively. Unsure how Sherlock had managed to experience that. "I'm going to bed. We can ring Mycroft tomorrow."
"Something tells me he already knows," Sherlock said a tad loudly that usual. Turning round slightly to look at the top of the bookcase then looked around for John's 'delightful' paperweight. Shaking his head John made his way over to Sherlock's bedroom, leaving Sherlock in the living room. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a decent night's sleep. Without nightmares or risks of explosions or murder or perhaps a young injured woman turning up on his doorstep.
It was clear Sherlock had not yet slept within his bed since his return. It was exactly the way John had left it. Yet the room had the returned smell of Sherlock. Not like before. Not like when it had gone. John could collapse into bed and wrap himself around the smell. Comforting him from the rest of the world. Even if just for a couple of hours.
Sherlock pondered the case into the early hours of the morning. His mind palace was time consuming, but a useful resource. He would never tire of it. But soon, he tired of the case.
John had often wondered what Sherlock did in lieu of sleep. This was what he did, this was Sherlock's way of coping.
Sherlock, in his mind palace, padded to the locked door. There was only one locked door, and it was the only one he wished to keep. The other places in his mind palace flared in and out of existence depending on his need of them. But this room, with the door that looked like the one to used to enter his bedroom, was a permanent fixture. He opened the door and the memories hit him. The ones that made him happy. This is what Sherlock did instead of sleeping, he delved himself in happy memories.
Within that room Sherlock felt like he finally belonged somewhere. It was hard for him to leave that door open. So he didn't. He locked it away. Not letting it interfere with himself. It was weird. For a sociopath Sherlock felt somewhat normal inside this room. Like he was just like everybody else. Which was a pathetic idea, maybe even dream, of course. He could never be like others. The rest of the boring world who could not think. Who lacked structure and observation. Happiness was a distraction. Those memories were a distraction. Ones he didn't need whilst working. Instead it was a substitute for sleep. Sherlock often found the burst of dopamine supplied to him better stimulation than sleep anyway.
A few of the memories derived from his childhood. The times before he had been abandoned and betrayed. The times before everything changed. Before he realised the values of the mind and loneliness. There wasn't many of those considering his carefree days ended when he was barely even seven. After that there were only a few. All occurring after the time he met John. The first person to truly understand him. He was a good friend indeed.
John rolled over in the bed, the smell of Sherlock releasing the tension and pain that had built up inside him. He was sound asleep and his breathing was calm and regular; he wasn't having a nightmare tonight.
Sherlock rocked back and forth on his toes unconsciously. His mind was occupied and his body felt the need to control itself for a while; perhaps to see if it could still perform normal functions that Sherlock Holmes deemed pointless. Sherlock's rocking slowed as he reached one of his happiest memories. His eyes, that were already glazed over, took on a look that no one had ever seen cross his face before; Sherlock seemed wanting, whimsical almost.
Toni sighed in her sleep. The bandage wrapped around her arm prevented her from getting as comfortable as she wished, but pure fatigue had dragged her down to the depths of sleep and there she lay, awaiting the dawn.
221B Baker Street was silent. No one stirred from their nocturnal activities. They did not see the dark blue Audi park outside, nor did they see the man leaning against the window opposite them. They did not see him stub out his cigarette and send a text message. No one saw, because no one was watching. But this simple action would cause Mr Holmes and Dr Watson plenty more strife.