Chapter eighteen: Tomorrow, not tonight

I couldn't sleep.

The entire evening had exhausted my body, but my mind was a restless piece of hopeless turmoil. Mrs. Holmes immediately had a bath drawn for me and had shouted for everyone to get whatever luxury she felt I needed and she insisted on John Watson examining me. I refused to confess about the bruises that had undoubtedly formed on my legs. I didn't refuse the blanket that was offered to me, but I refused to accept any of the mollycoddling.

I just sat there, in the midst of all this turmoil watching the world revolve around me. I sat there numbly as everyone pressed Sherlock for details about the evening. I didn't really listen much, but evidentially, Sherlock and John had forced my stepmother to reveal my whereabouts. However, her information was incorrect. A woman named Irene, had given them the correct information. Mycroft seemed to know her, but refused to depart any information about her.

As everyone argued, I stood up and walked over towards the piano. I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me as I sat down. Playing music for me was the only way for me to attempt to calm down. My favorite piece of music was Antonio Vivaldi's Violin Concerto no 6 in A Minor, Op 3, Rv 356, Largo. It was of course, made for a violin, but I always played it on the piano. Granted, it sounded slightly unusual, but I was too old now to learn to play the violin. No one seemed to notice me as I sat down and gazed at the ivories.

The urge to release the numb pain, hurt and despair inside me was too much to resist. I closed my eyes and began to play. I knew this piece from the heart. I could remember so many things that I'd forgotten. My parent's arguments, my mother's constant affairs and my father's tolerance of them. I wonder if at times that they stayed together for my sake. However, there were times that I could remember them being happy together. I scolded myself for even doubting their affections.

The sound of a violin caused my eyes to open. I turned and looked to see Sherlock making his way towards me, a violin tucked under his chin and he was playing. He nodded for me to continue and I joined him. This was the first time I'd ever seen him play a musical instrument and it would happen to be the instrument that I'd always desired to play. I looked back down at the keys as our instruments blended in perfect harmony. If he knew that I was far more upset than I let on, he didn't say anything to me.

But all too soon, the music came to an end. Sherlock lowered the violin and the bow from his neck. He studied me for a moment before turning back to the group. "I'm taking Tammy home." He carefully tucked the violin into the case, closing it carefully.

Mr. Holmes was the first man to object. "Sherlock, it's been a rough day, she should stay home and rest."

John nodded. "I agree. She should stay here."

I looked at Sherlock, mentally pleading with him to get me out of this house. I wanted to be back in our home. Well, it wasn't really 'our' home. It was the closest thing I had to a home, but it was also the one place where I could have some privacy.

Fortunately, he read my mind. He stepped towards me and picked me up. "I'll make sure she rests. I'm certain she'd prefer to rest among familiar things including her own bed." He turned and addressed me. "Am I correct?"

I nodded. "I'm fine."

Mycroft exhaled deeply. "Oh Sherlock."

He never said anything more, but his tone dripped with disappointment. Sherlock stiffened and walked out of the parlor. "Goodnight everyone."

The journey home was silent. Sherlock didn't speak to me and I didn't speak to him. I had too much and nothing to say to him. Sherlock was in his 'mind palace' as he called it, so he wasn't concentrating on me. I closed my eyes and tried to relax in the carriage. I was exhausted, but I knew I could never sleep tonight.

Sherlock silently and dutifully carried me from the carriage up the stairs. He set me down outside the door of our room before entering it. As per arrangement, he grabbed his nightclothes and then left to grant me the privacy of undressing and changing.

As the door shut, I silently began to undress myself. More tears burned my eyes, I wanted to cry, but I was also tired of crying. I had been crying for so many days for so many reasons, great or small. Yet, I should cry, I had gone through so much.

I looked at myself in the mirror and the look in my eyes immediately made me drop my gaze. I looked so tired, exhausted and depressed that I wasn't certain that I was looking at myself in the mirror. I hung my clothes over the chair and after pulling my nightdress over my shoulders, I sat down and began to brush my hair after removing the pins. I purposefully positioned myself away from the mirror so as not to gaze at myself.

The door opened and I looked up at Sherlock. I wasn't surprised that he hadn't knocked, but it was the expression on his face as he lingered in the doorway for a moment watching me. It was an unusual look, he was staring at me almost. But, I decided that he was simply making a deduction about me, so I resumed brushing my hair in silence as he closed the door.

I stood up, setting the brush down on the nightstand behind me. Sherlock approached me and I paused in place. Not once had he ever approached me in our bedroom. I held his gaze as he stopped a foot away from me. "Here." Sherlock handed me a semi-frozen cloth.

I frowned. "What's this for?" he didn't answer me, but he dropped his gaze down to my lower abdomen. I flushed as I realized that when he cut my bonds, he must have noticed where Moriarty had struck me. I was grateful he hadn't said anything. But why did he have to notice everything? I dipped my head. "Thank you."

He simply nodded before turning and walking towards his side of the bed. I shook my head as I crawled into bed. Once I was under the covers did Sherlock crawl into bed beside me. He closed his eyes for a moment, granting me a moment of privacy while I slid the cloth between my legs. I let out a hiss as the ice stung, but it was a relief, I'd been throbbing down there all evening and it was getting unbearable. I glanced over my shoulder to see Sherlock watching me out of the corner of his eye. It was awkward for us now. Maybe because I knew that any moment he'd say that we really shouldn't still be sharing the same bed together as we weren't going to remain a married couple for much longer.

He cleared his throat. "You did well tonight."

"Thank you."

Again, silence pervaded the room, until Sherlock spoke. "Mother mentioned that you had never seen Elise McKenna perform before." I nod as I carefully roll over to my back so I wasn't craning my neck to look at him. "She purchased us two tickets for us to go see her tomorrow night in 'Wisdom of the heart.' She's leaving tomorrow for an extended tour to America, so, it'll be her last performance."

"That is very generous of her. I shall look forward to it." I bit my lip and shifted deeper under the covers. I cleared my throat as I drew the covers up to my chin. "I didn't know you played the violin. You're good."

"It helps me think."

I smiled. "I know." He looks at me curiously. "Why else do you think I play the piano?"

He smirks at me for a moment before the smile fades away. "Go to sleep."

"I can't."

"Why?" I couldn't answer him on that one. I just turned over on my side so I couldn't look at him. After a few moments of silence, he asked me. "Would you like me to hold you?"

His kind offer took me by surprise. I peered over my shoulder at him curiously. His face showed no emotion. "Why?"

He groaned. "You, like all females in emotional times like this, for some reason always desire comfort."

"If it's so offensive and against your principles," I snap in irritation. "then why are you offering it?"

His reply is instant. "Because after what you've gone through, it's the least I can give you."

I'm quiet for a moment, then, I carefully slide the ice pack over to the side before I roll into his side. I can feel Sherlock's gaze on the top of my head as I lean my head against his chest. I exhale and murmur. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. By some strange magnetic connection, I wrap my hand around his waist, desperate to feel him closer to me. As his other hand locks around my waist, the final tears fall down my cheeks. I can feel him gently brushing my hair before murmuring. "It's all over. It's over now." I don't know what other things he murmured to me, but my body and mind accepted that I was safe and secure in his arms at that moment and I instantly fell asleep. Whatever happened tomorrow, would happen tomorrow, not tonight.

Hi everyone, I am so sorry about the delay. I developed an issue with my computer that locked me out of fanfiction and I've just now been able to get back on. I also realized that I got hit by porn spam again on my Robin Hood fics as did other friends of mine. Condoleezza Rice, is the name of the newest spammer. As always, block them to protect yourself. You can report them to fanfiction if you wish, but fanfiction told us to ignore the spam, so I sincerely doubt that they'll do anything. So, I shall be deleting my 2 Robin Hood fics and reposting them to get rid of the spam.