"I'll tell you what we do now," I said, arms crossed in a defiant manner. I looked at Mycroft.
"You are going to tell me exactly how to get back and I will be going back, even if I have to walk," I spoke confidently and stood tall, asserting my authority. I would be having no arguments and if he didn't tell me, I'd go out anyways and find my way there. Everyone in the room was aware of that, though, because they knew that about me. Even as a child, I was stubborn and bossy. I was often the babysitter.
"I'll not be telling you anything. If you can get out, you are free to go on your little quest. God forbid you let anyone keep you safe," Mycroft answered, pulling my own hardheadedness on me. We are twins after all. I grinned a very mischievous grin and turned on my heel, heading back to the room from whence I came. I slammed the door shut and basically threw myself onto the bed. It was time for some scheming. Across the hall was John's room and I heard him say goodnight slightly awkwardly and Sherlock reply in his deep voice the same way. Things weren't the same as before, anyone could tell. Their once-great friendship had deteriorated by the fall. I sighed, returning my attention to my own problem before my door suddenly opened.
"John, I-" I started as I looked over, but to my surprised it was not John, but Sherlock standing in my doorway. He closed the door behind him and strode over to my bed.
"Get your things, we are leaving," He said. I blinked, wondering how he'd convinced Mycroft. Then I shunned myself for thinking that. He didn't; he was going to sneak me out. I nodded and pulled on my pants, collecting everything I knew was mine in my jacket pockets. When I was finished, I nodded to Sherlock again and he opened the hallway door. I pointed quietly to the window, but he shook his head and in the next moment I realized why. A beam of light, like that of a flashlight, flashed across the window. Patrols. Did he really have me on lockdown, or was he always this paranoid?
"Come," Sherlock said and he didn't have to tell me again. I walked quietly past him and waited in the hall as he closed the door. He took hold of my arm and led me down the corridor, which turned left into another corridor. We slipped, then, into a room that seemed to be another bedroom, but this was clearly Mycroft's bedroom. The window was already wide open, but there were no lights like my room. I rose a brow. How considerate of Mycroft. I get a patrol, but not him? On second thought, he probably didn't want people watching him. I rolled my eyes and we walked across the room to the window. The breeze that rustled the curtains and brushed across my skin was cool and humid, wet with rain. I smiled. I had missed all the rain, though it had rained quite a bit in New York while I was there. Sherlock went out ahead of me, but I stayed a moment. I heard voices that were not Sherlock and panicked. It was John and Mycroft and they weren't far behind. I suddenly felt rather guilty for leaving John behind, though I know it was a split-second decision on both parts.
"I'm sorry," I whispered and climbed out of the window into the dead of night. I followed Sherlock closely because by watching him I knew he definitely was sure of how to get out of here. He had been able to sneak in, so I had much faith he could retrace his steps back home.
I apologize for this being so short. :c