26.
"She's with the crisis team right now," Lestrade explained, leading Sherlock and John down the corridor. He paused to show his ID to another officer, who nodded and waved them through the door. "I don't know what happened, she wasn't making much sense when she came in –"
"When did she come in?" Sherlock interrupted fiercely. John found it hard to keep up with his long legged strides.
"I don't know the exact time, earlier this evening – anyway, she was in a right state, hysterical – she kept talking about a swimming pool." Lestrade shook his head, unaware of the look Sherlock and John exchanged. "I didn't talk to her but from what I've gathered, it was some kind of –" Lestrade cut himself off, taking in a deep breath before finishing his sentence. "Sexual assault."
Sherlock's heart missed a beat. He understood sex to a certain extent. It didn't make much sense to him – Sherlock couldn't see the appeal of it – but to think that someone had forced themselves onto Elspeth, attacked her in such a way that would remain with her forever – it made him furious.
He lurched forwards, reaching for the door, but Lestrade quickly restrained him, pulling the younger man back.
"You can't go in there, Sherlock."
"Why not?" Sherlock demanded. "She's my daughter."
"And she's with an officer," Lestrade snapped back just as angrily. "You're worried, I understand, but you can't go barging in there, Ellie's in a state and you shouting the odds isn't going to make her feel any better."
Glaring at Lestrade, Sherlock tugged his arm out of his grip and stormed back down the corridor, pacing back and forth. John watched him and, unable to stand for much longer, took a seat in one of the plastic chairs outside the room. As he paced, Sherlock paused occasionally to peer through the blinds with a frustrated frown, getting angrier each time he did so; he couldn't see anything but he continued to torture himself, desperate to see Elspeth.
"Christ, Sherlock, you're making me dizzy," Lestrade complained.
Sherlock glared back at him feebly. He didn't say anything as he started to pace again.
A younger officer shuffled down the corridor, mumbling something to Lestrade with a nervous waver in his voice, and Lestrade frowned. Excusing himself, he walked with the officer the way they had come.
A minute later – Sherlock counted the seconds silently – Lestrade walked through the door with someone by his side. Sherlock sighed.
"Catherine –"
Catherine's hand shot out, striking Sherlock hard across the face, the crack making both Lestrade and John flinch. Sherlock slowly turned around to face the seething woman.
"Always a pleasure to see you again."
"How dare you!" Catherine said furiously, pointing at him. "How could you let this happen? That's our daughter in there –"
"I wasn't aware you still had parental rights," Sherlock interrupted dryly. Catherine looked like she was going to slap him again.
"I am still her mother."
John, who had risen to his feet the moment Catherine struck Sherlock, stared at the woman in disbelief. When he thought about Elspeth's mother, which wasn't very much, he never imagined her to be so – he couldn't even find the words to describe Catherine. Wild. Undignified. Spitfire. Elspeth had her eyes, he realised when Catherine turned to glare at John, and he could see where she got her wild temper from.
"And who are you?" Catherine demanded rudely. It was because she was worried about Elspeth, John reminded himself. She was concerned for her daughter.
"John Watson," John replied. "I live with Sherlock and Ellie – I'm Sherlock's friend," he hastily added, seeing Catherine's eyebrows raise slightly.
"Can we see Ellie now?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.
"Just wait until they're finished talking, then you can go in."
"How long do I have to wait?"
"As long as it takes," Lestrade said, trying to keep his tone patient. They were all worried about Elspeth.
It didn't take long for the officer to finish talking to Elspeth, but for Sherlock, Catherine and John, it felt like hours.
"You can go in now," the officer, a kind looking red haired woman, told them. "Not too many people at a time though, she's in a fragile state."
"You two go ahead," John said to Sherlock and Catherine. They were Elspeth's parents, he could wait.
Opening the door, Sherlock strode into the room. Elspeth was sitting on the doctor's bed, her pale hands clasped together on her lap, with her hair scraped back into a ponytail. She looked washed out and frail, like a sudden gust of wind could snap her in half, and Sherlock wanted nothing more than to stick a bullet through Moriarty's head when he saw the state of her.
There were angry red marks covering her neck, like someone had bitten the skin, and there was dried blood on her bottom lip, which was slightly swollen. Her cheek was red from being slapped and a bracelet of bruises circled both of her skinny wrists. She'd kicked her boots off, her toe sticking out of a hole in her tights, and she was shivering.
Suddenly, Sherlock didn't see Elspeth as the young woman that she was. He saw the little girl that first came into his home, small and scared and vulnerable.
She looked up at the sound of footsteps, gazing at Sherlock and Catherine with her big hazel eyes that were bloodshot. Elspeth had been crying.
"Dad," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Mum."
Sherlock reached the bed first. Swinging her legs over the side, Elspeth wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest, and he embraced her tightly, cupping the back of her head. His fury for Moriarty faded the moment he saw the fear in her eyes.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked her gently, his hands cupping her face. He silently begged her to say yes because he didn't know how he would cope with her saying anything else.
The look on Elspeth's face hurt Sherlock more than anything ever could. The fear, the hurt, the pure sadness in her eyes. She couldn't get her voice to work because the words just got stuck in her dry throat, so Elspeth mechanically shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Catherine let out a stifled gasp, covering her mouth with shaking hands, and Sherlock took a small step to the side so she could hug their daughter. He was unwilling to let go but Elspeth seemed to be grateful for her mother's affection.
"Oh Elspeth," Catherine murmured, holding her close.
Elspeth pulled away slightly, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand and then doing the same with her nose. It was slightly disgusting, which was why she grimaced after she did it.
"Why . . . why are you here?" she asked Catherine.
"Because I'm your mother! I've been calling you for weeks –"
"You have?" Sherlock interrupted suddenly. Catherine gave him a dark look.
"I was going to tell you," Elspeth said quietly. She didn't look at Sherlock. "You were busy though . . ."
"It doesn't matter now," Catherine said dismissively, gently smoothing down a flyaway strand of Elspeth's hair that had escaped her hairband. She tucked the hair behind Elspeth's ear. "Elspeth, love, do you . . . who did this to you?"
Elspeth bit her lip. It was her nervous habit.
"I don't know. It was dark, I couldn't really see."
She had a guilty look in her eyes but Catherine didn't see it, embracing her daughter again. Sherlock didn't take his eyes off his daughter.
"Can we go home now?" Elspeth asked Sherlock in a small voice when Catherine let go of her. Sherlock nodded, taking off his blazer and draping it around Elspeth's shoulders while Catherine fetched their daughter's boots from the ground. Clutching the blazer, Elspeth slid her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around herself.
She slid down from the bed, stumbling slightly, and Sherlock was the first to catch her, keeping Elspeth steady. She smiled at him weakly.
As they walked across the room, Elspeth drifted closer to Sherlock, who put his arm around her shoulders. Catherine looked at them, a flicker of hurt in her eyes before she turned away again.
"We're going now," Sherlock told Lestrade.
"Alright. Call us if you need to," Lestrade said to Elspeth, gently squeezing her shoulder, and she nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly. She smiled, but it felt more like a grimace than anything. "Are you coming as well?" This Elspeth directed at Catherine.
"If you want me to then –"
Elspeth shrugged apathetically and walked ahead of them, desperate to get out of the corridor as fast as possible. Sherlock turned to Catherine with a hard expression.
"I'll make sure Ellie's alright," John mumbled uncomfortably.
"You don't want me to come back," Catherine stated, flicking her hair over her shoulder and jutting her chin out defiantly. Elspeth looked more like Sherlock than her mother, but when they pulled faces like that, it was easy to see the resemblance.
"Is it really that obvious?" Sherlock asked dryly. Catherine snorted.
"She's my daughter too."
"You're incredibly fond of repeating that statement, yet I fail to see what right that gives you when I was awarded full custody."
"You didn't even want her."
"I wanted her more than you did."
Catherine's hand twitched, like she wanted nothing more than to slap Sherlock hard across the face a second time, but she looked down the corridor, where Lestrade waited patiently, and thought better of it.
"I was –" she cut herself off, taking in a deep breath. "Post natal depression is hard to live with. You don't realise how much I hate myself for not loving our daughter like I was supposed to."
Sherlock's hard expression softened only slightly. He couldn't forgive Catherine for flitting in and out of Elspeth's life whenever it suited her, though, because every time she left, it broke their daughter's heart.
"I suggest that you do what is best for Ellie," Sherlock said.
Catherine gazed up at him, her eyes brimming with tears that Sherlock had no sympathy for. She sighed.
"Can I have a minute to say goodbye?" she asked quietly. Sherlock nodded.
Elspeth seemed to anticipate Catherine leaving. She didn't cry or protest, just nodded with resigned acceptance and hugged her mother.
"Thank you for coming," Elspeth mumbled, as if it was a party. Catherine gently stroked Elspeth's hair.
"Elspeth –"
"Ellie," Elspeth interrupted. She grinned sheepishly at Catherine's confused frown. "Everyone calls me Ellie. I . . . I kind of prefer it."
"Ellie," Catherine amended with a small smile. "Darling, you can call or text me any time you need me."
"I've need you my whole life," Elspeth said quietly. "and you weren't there. You're only here because of what happened. It's alright, though," she added. "I know you never really wanted me."
"My God, Elspeth, you couldn't be any more hurtful if you tried."
Elspeth shrugged silently, looking away. "Bye Mum."
Catherine stared down at Elspeth before murmuring a quiet goodbye and striding down the corridor. Elspeth shut her eyes and leaned against the wall. She was a horrible person. She was hurting and she wanted everyone else hurt as well because then she wouldn't be alone in the unbearable pain.
"Ellie," Sherlock said. Elspeth opened her eyes, seeing Sherlock's extended hand. With a small sob, she took it and hugged him, silently crying into his chest.
No one spoke in the taxi on the way back to 221B. Elspeth sat between John and Sherlock, her head on her father's shoulder as she gazed out of the window with a small frown. Moriarty's voice echoed in her head and she squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fists until her nails broke the skin.
Mrs Hudson was in bed when they got home, so the silence continued as they walked up the steps. Elspeth walked slowly, trying to ignore the pain that shot through her with every step, and went to her room, mumbling that she was going to put on her pyjamas.
"I'll make tea," John said, the first time he'd spoken for most of the evening. He walked through to the kitchen and Sherlock sat down in his armchair, his fingers drumming against the arm. He glared at the smiley face on the wall, fidgeting restlessly. John was glad he had taken the gun before they left the pool.
Upstairs, Elspeth slowly and mechanically peeled away her clothes, dropping them on the floor. She kicked them under the bed, making a firm resolution to burn them.
Elspeth stopped when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. There were bruises everywhere, the most painful ones on her thighs. Her eyes lingered on the marks on her neck and she touched them gingerly.
No longer able to gaze at her reflection, Elspeth turned her back on the mirror and changed into her pyjamas, pulling on a thick jumper over her top.
She wanted nothing more than to climb into bed, curl up into a ball and sleep for a very long time, but she knew that she had to talk to Sherlock.
He was still sitting in his chair when Elspeth walked downstairs. John was in the kitchen. Elspeth hesitated for a few seconds before taking a seat on the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them.
"Who did it?" Sherlock asked quietly, staring ahead of him. Elspeth squeezed her eyes shut.
"Dad, I –"
"Who did it?"
"Sherlock," John said. Sherlock didn't pay any attention to him, turning to face Elspeth with an anger in his eyes that she had never seen before.
"Jim – Molly's boyfriend," Elspeth added. She pinched the bridge of her nose and ran her hand through her hair. "He . . . he was at the club."
"Moriarty," Sherlock muttered darkly.
"Yeah, he said that name, he called himself Moriarty . . ." Elspeth's voice trailed off and she lifted her head to look at Sherlock. "Is that him? Is he Moriarty?"
Sherlock nodded. John left the kitchen, handing a cup of tea to Elspeth, and sat down in his chair.
"Six pips," Sherlock said. He was talking more to himself than to John and Elspeth. "Six pips . . . four innocent people, two people who I am close to."
"So what, Ellie and I are just part of his sick game?" John asked furiously, unable to supress his temper for much longer. Elspeth looked at him in bewilderment.
"Wait, what? What did Moriarty do to you?"
"Strapped me to a bomb."
"Oh my God, are you alright?"
John wanted to laugh at Elspeth's concern for him. After everything that had happened to her, she was worried about him.
"I'm fine," John told her.
"What happened after the club?" Sherlock demanded from Elspeth.
"I don't want to talk about it, Dad."
"Ellie, I need you to –"
"You don't need me to do anything!" Elspeth yelled angrily, rising to her feet and throwing the cup down so suddenly that John flinched. The cup shattered, hot tea soaking into the carpet. "You don't need me to tell you what happened because you already know! You're Sherlock Holmes! You know everything and you know that he only did this to me to get to you!"
Sherlock stared up at Elspeth in shock. He had seen her angry, he had seen her upset, but he had never seen her like this. She was trembling with anger and her tears were filled with tears that she stubbornly wiped away as she glared at Sherlock with hatred.
"Ellie –" Sherlock stood up and Elspeth shook her head.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"Where are you going now?" Sherlock asked in exasperation as Elspeth turned to leave the living room.
"To bed!" Elspeth snapped back, whirling around to face him. "Is that alright with you?"
Without waiting for an answer, she stormed up the steps. John and Sherlock heard her bedroom door slam.
Sherlock didn't move. He didn't say anything either.
"Sherlock?" John asked gently. "You alright?"
Silently, he walked out of the living room, down the corridor to his room. He shut the door quietly and changed for bed, even though he had no intention of sleeping.
Sherlock Holmes rarely cried. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and a single solitary tear rolled down his cheek. Letting out a deep breath, Sherlock shut his eyes.
Thank you Destiny Xavier16, Starcrier, Scribbler95, TheDoctor'sAmazingCompanion, helbel, Bookworm45669, Goodbye Mr Holmes, Hannah skywalker, xxxMadameMysteryxxx, WerewolfHybrid31, LoverofWords22, tinuviel21, SuperNaturalxxFreak, iwanttobeaneverdeen, EveLily, Tayla, lisistrataantigona, bookaddict209, my four anonymous reviewers, LeoInuyuka, thestargazer7, ElizabethCullen08, nakari ash, ameerawrites, GottaLoveTen, AlieCat, Lucy Moon-Walker, Adrillian1497 and Turtleluv19 for reviewing!
This was a hard chapter to write but I hope it's alright!
Ellie's mum finally made an appearance and, yes, she was the mystery caller - well done to everyone who guessed it! Whether Catherine will make another appearance I'm not sure, but I'm not promising she isn't . . .