Silent Afflictions
Silence of the Parents
Taking his suitcase to his own room, Sherlock didn't bother unpacking yet, mind still turning over all the information he'd collected on their latest case, his Mind Palace in a bit of a state from his rifling.
Slipping off his coat, he hung it on the back of the living room door before throwing himself on the sofa, hands coming to rest under his chin as he thought, the wish for a nicotine patch trying to worm its way through the maze that was his mind.
Vaguely, he heard John come up the stairs and put the kettle on, mugs hitting the counter quietly as he prepared the drinks. It was the doctor's words that brought Sherlock out of his thoughts though. "Who are you?"
Snapping his eyes open, Sherlock sat up, searching the room; he hadn't seen them at first, and later he'd think about the similarities of when he first officially met Rose and ponder the irony. But for now, he just took in the two woman who were now standing in front of the fireplace, having gotten up from the chairs.
The taller of the two was very slim, her greying brown hair tied up neatly in a large bun just above the nape of her neck, mature makeup giving her slightly wrinkled features more colour. She also wore a lot of jewellery - two necklaces, several rings, at least two bracelets on each wrist and a pair of short earrings - all of it polished bright. She wore a long coat open over black trousers and a rather old blouse, her handbag resting against John's usual chair.
But as always, Sherlock saw a lot more than that.
He saw the depth in her knowing eyes, the exact shade of brown her hair would have been before it faded, the way it would have fallen if it were loose. He saw the confident body language, the way she held herself with pride, knowing that she could handle any situation she found herself in.
This woman was Rose's mother.
The deduction only taking a fraction of a second, he now looked to the shorter woman, waterproof coat unzipped to show a football shirt, team colours faded from age and use. She wore faded black jeans, cut off at the bottom - probably hand-me-downs, cut to accommodate her lack of leg length - scruffy trainers on her feet.
The short-cropped hair made her look more masculine though, the way she looked at the taller woman giving away their relationship immediately. Her eyes though were very familiar; they were the same exact blue as Joe and Zach's eyes. This woman was their mother.
"Rose's parents." Sherlock answered, letting them all know where they stood. His voice was not friendly, nor enthusiastic at all. He had noticed that she barley spoke of her parents, even with her brothers. He didn't know what had happened, but they weren't on good terms; that much was clear.
The taller woman frowned. "How did you know that?"
"It's my job to know things." Sherlock smirked.
The woman just raised an eyebrow, the expression familiar yet with a disliking to it that they hadn't seen on the features of Rose. "Then you should think of a different career."
Sherlock didn't reply, simply staring at the woman, thinking intently. Certainly the same wit, he thought drily.
John just looked between the women and his friend, wondering if it was a good idea to leave Sherlock alone with them. Then again, someone had to go tell her. "I'll go get Rose…" He muttered quietly, getting a forced smile from the taller woman while the shorter just looked him over, not smiling.
Sherlock sat down on the sofa again, leaning back. "Sherlock Holmes." He introduced himself, hoping to get some names.
"Yes, I know." Said her mother, leaving it at that. She wasn't here to talk to him.
Sherlock was persistent though "And you are?"
"Rose's mother." She said, frowning slightly. Hadn't he just said that?
"Let me rephrase…" Sherlock said, trying to be a little patient. "Your name is…?"
He was interrupted however as the living room door swung open fully, a fuming Rose standing in the doorway, arms crossed as she glared at her parents. "What the hell are you doing here?"