Sherlock practically guided me along by the shoulders, and strange enough I let him. He shuffled me to the street with John in tow, and raised a hand to flag down a passing cab, gently guiding me inside it. I was too stunned to move on my own, and he seemed to understand that on some level. We rode back to the flat, me still trembling slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that my legs would stop shaking.

He must think me a weak fool, I told myself. He's probably calling me pathetic in that stupid afro head of his. Damn, I really didn't like this. Dreams are supposed to be fun, light hearted, not make me into a fool.

Something touched my knee and I jumped, looking down to see Sherlock's hand resting there. He gave it a gentle squeeze. A tear welled up in my eye, genuinely touched by his kind action.

"If you don't calm down the entire cab will start shaking," he said bluntly.

My brow twitched in irritation, and I knocked his hand away on principle. "Fuck you," I muttered under my breath. I hated to admit it (oh boy did I really frigging hate to admit it, but I did stop shaking. He's such a bastard, I thought. It's as if he has to undermine his own good actions by snobbery simply to keep his aloof exterior. He was such a moron.

Not a word was spoken the entire way back.

As we clambered out of the cab, I moved instantly inside and to my own flat, not wanting any company. Behind me I heard John mutter something to Sherlock, who muttered something back. Sherlock sighed for a moment, then called to me just as I was leaving.

"Helen," he said lightly. I turned around, my eyes lifeless and tired. "Would you like a cup of tea?" he offered, gesturing upstairs. My head tilted to one side in incredulity. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Tell John thanks for the offer," I said, knowing it was he who put Sherlock up to this. "But tell him I need a bit of alone time at present. And by the way, please save that old woman. If you would excuse me." I left them and went inside my own flat, my head aching in response to the days events.

Sherlock moved to follow her, but was pulled back by John.

"It was a nice try Sherlock," John said. "But this time it might be best to leave her be." Sherlock stared after her, not convinced. "Are you worried she's still in league with the bomber?" John asked, concern coloring his voice.

"Not anymore," Sherlock responded. "I still had lingering doubts but today's events washed them away. I thought she might let her guard down if I told her she was no longer under suspicion. However, it is clear to me she would never work for that person, not even if her life depended upon it."

"How can you be so sure?" John said. "She is receiving calls from him, and we both know she's hiding something."

Sherlock shook his head. "Did you see the way she was quivering? Like a leaf. She was afraid, so afraid she couldn't believe it herself. Most of this means nothing to her, it's almost as if she's just here to be a spectator and occasionally dip her fingers in. But this," Sherlock said, narrowing his eyes. "This spooked her. She probably didn't expect to be drawn so far in, and she's likely terrified."

"You worried about her?" John asked casually.

"Ye- no of course not. Worried about her, how dense can you be John," Sherlock said, walking up the stairs.

"Not as dense as you," John called after him, following the detective up to their flat.

I curled myself up on the couch, trying desperately not to think. My fingernails scratched the sides of my head, and all the while I repeated the words "wake up" over and over, hoping they would have some impact. Unfortunately, they did not.

It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I had been dreaming for what felt like days. I had been there long enough to establish some form of friendship with these people, no, these characters, and as long as I could rationalize that everything was fine.

But there were moments when everything just seemed so real. I had never had a dream quite like this before, and it rattled me. I was confused, I was frustrated, and I was anxious. I needed something to do…

It occurred to me that I should probably text Mycroft, so I did so before I lost myself in some activity.

At 221B. All is well.

HR

After pressing send I looked around, and spotted the box where my unassembled bed was packed up. Now was as good a time as any to put the dang thing together.

I wandered over and started taking the pieces out one by one, and then I picked up the instructions. It was all in a different language that made no sense. "Fuck that," I said, tossing it aside. The damn paper didn't even have any pictures!

I sat down and tried to construct the bed, and I ended up holding every single piece at least once, trying to make out which other piece it connected to. I grumbled, trying to make things fit together that obviously had no purpose being together. "Why does this have to be so fucking confusing!" I whined, and in defeat I left it and returned to the couch, deciding to take a little nap and escape my own thoughts.

My mind went black, and suddenly all I saw was Soo Lin Yao. She smiled at me, and began folding one of the little lotus flowers out of origami paper. I watched her, entranced by the way her fingers were able to mold the paper as easily as if it were butter. Surely my own fingers were not so nimble.

After she finished the folds it was perfectly made, and she held it in her hand. Her smile gently faded away, instead being replaced by sad down-turned eyes that could not look me in the face. In a swift movement she walked past me. I spun around, and watched as she delicately placed it on the side of a bed. In the bed was the old woman, the woman from the phone.

Both Soo Lin Yao and the old woman looked at me as a laughing began in the distance, seeming to come ever closer and closer, drowning out all other noise until it stopped by my ear and whispered "I'm just soooooooo changeable~"

It was only by the gentle coaxing of a familiar voice that roused me from my slumber.

"Helen," it said. "Helen, time to wake up. If you don't you'll miss dinner."

I groaned, but kept my eyes shut. "Five more minutes…"

"Helen," the voice said firmly. "It really is time to wake up."

Gently an arm helped me sit up, and I opened my eyes blearily. The drifted in and out of focus, but even so there was no mistaking that head of curls. "Sherlock, whatdafuck areyou doinginmyflat?" I said, yawning loudly.

"You've been asleep for several hours now," he said tersely. "I know you haven't eaten all day, so I was thinking that after John and I get back from Scotland Yard we could-"

"No thanks, Sherlock." My voice was resolute.

His nose wrinkled in irritation. "I really think it would be in your best interest if you accompani-"

"And I think it would be in your best interest if you would knock before entering my flat," I said curtly. "But I guess you can't always get what you want." I stood up and got a glass from my cabinet and filled it with water.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked warily.

"It's not for you nitwit," I said. I turned to my little fern and gently poured the water inside. "This is my plant, Eugene."

"You named your plant Eugene?"

"Well what was I supposed to name it? Keith? Hardly likely." I looked over at him and waved my hands. "Shoo. I've got important things that need doing."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Like failing to piece together your bed?"

I scowled at him. "Don't be so cheeky."

"Come with us," he said. "It won't be long and we can get this all over with and have ourselves a nice meal."

"No," I repeated. "I don't want to be privy to your tactless conversation, thank you very much."

"I'm only offering," Sherlock said, walking over to me, "because I feel it would be in your best interest to have company for the time being."

We were only a few feet apart, yet it felt much closer after he said that.

"Are you," I said cautiously, "trying to be nice to me?" He looked at me. And I looked at him. And he looked at me. And I looked at him. He looked at me. And I looked at him. He looked at me. And I looked at him. He looked at me. And I looked at him.

"Well," he said, breaking the silence. "We are friends, aren't we?" He offered up what looked like an honest to goodness, genuine, and heartfelt smile.

And I started crying.

"Helen," he said worriedly. "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do…"

I stepped forward and hugged him, crying softly into the fabric of his suit. "You're a really big friggin idiot do you know that?" I said.

His hands were up by his head, and he didn't know what to do. "The fact that you're crying and calling me an idiot is a sign of displeasure, yet you're hugging me which is a sign of happiness and friendship. The two are contradictions of one another."

"Just hug me back you moron," I said, tears still running down my face.

Slowly, but surely, he lowered his hand, and rested them in the small of my back. And we just kinda stayed there, unmoving, listening to the sound of each other breath and the the thump of our hearts. It really felt like we were friends, and he was coming to help me through a rough patch. And that was actually pretty cool in my opinion.

"So are you going to tell me why you called my face sexy?" he said.

I sighed, my tears run out. "Please don't ruin this moment Sherlock. It's rather nice, and I don't want you spoiling it with your crazy ramblings."

"But you did call me sexy," Sherlock insisted. "I am not crazy because that was an event that actually happened."

"Aaaand the moment is gone," I said, releasing him and stepping back. "Well, I knew an asspencil like you couldn't let a perfectly decent moment like that last long. It was only a matter of time."

"Are you going to tell me?" Sherlock said.

"Nah," I replied lazily, pulling down the bottom part of my eyelid and sticking my tongue out. "You're like the human version of menstrual cramps, why would I ever tell you anything."

"I thought it's because we were friends," Sherlock countered.

"Yeah, and friends are always little shits to one another. Duh." I checked my phone and saw no message from Mycroft this time. I typed him a quick message and then looked back to Sherlock. "Ready to go? I'm sure John is waiting for us."

"Yeah," he called out. Unbeknownst to us, John had been waiting around the corner this entire time. "I've been waiting for quite a while. That was a really long hug by the way. Did you really call him sexy?"

As my eyes widened in shock and panic, I could only think one word.

Shit.

I know. I know. I don't wanna hear it. I've had life thrown at me in more ways than one. So here's your friggin update. I hope you like it. It took me a while to get back in the groove since it's been so long.

I look forward to your rants about my not updating in months in your reviews.

Until next time guys ^_^