Chapter Two
Emilia and John had sat down on the couch and were preparing to talk. Sherlock migrated back into the kitchen to play with the microscope. John swore he didn't have anything to do, and was trying to appear busy. Any second now, Sherlock would leave and almost instantaneously come back.
John had given Emilia his laptop so she could quickly type out her words.
Before we start, I need help.
"With what?" John replied.
Emilia pulled up the hem of the dress slightly to show John the cut that had been glued closed. She moved her hand in a sewing motion, obviously asking him for the possibility of stitches.
John sighed. "They had to use glue. Yes, I can stitch it up, but I haven't the pain medication to do it painlessly."
I can handle it. I may be a woman, but I think some ice to numb it would do wonders.
"Alright. What else do you need to know?" John
At this point Sherlock stormed out the door. He'll be back.
Do you know how long the shock can keep me speechless? And… is he okay?
"Oh, don't mind him. He's bored. Very bored, really. The voice paralysis duration varies from person to person and case to case. I can't say. Whenever you're strong enough, it'll come back."
Emilia nodded. I also want to thank you for everything you are helping me with. I would thank Sherlock too, but I haven't the slightest idea on how, or what for. She showed John the screen and her shoulders shook with a silent laughter. Small noises came from her mouth again.
John smiled. "I'm sure he'd like it. He seems rude all the time but he's an okay person. Oh, and if the refrigerator is really such a bother to you, I actually have a smaller fridge in the room. Have you been in there yet?"
Emilia shook her head no. Again, before we do anything, I have a favor to ask. I need clothes. Will you take me to my apartment so I can get the necessary living utensils I need?
Sherlock barreled in through the doorframe, throwing off his scarf and coat. He retreated to his room and back to the kitchen table.
"Yes, we can go now. Write down the address."
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, looking over the two of the humans with mild interest.
"Emilia's house, to gather her things."
The men just stared at each other. To Emilia it looked like they were having a mental conversation. John looked between them both, wondering if Emilia got the gist of what they were thinking.
Sherlock cleared his throat. "Can I come?"
Emilia sighed, but nodded.
This man is kind of ridiculous.
They piled into a cab and took a short drive to Emilia's place. She grabbed a week's worth of clothes and a few sets of clothes to sleep in, toiletries, and her glasses. Sherlock wandered around her apartment (quite rudely, in John's opinion), and noticed even more things about her, or mostly about her place.
Studies philosophy. Neat freak. Sits at the window and watches the people. No family photos. Draws in free time. Regularly drinks iced tea. Never had visitors. Works in an office typing reports. Still completely insecure.
Emilia grabbed her laptop and case and was ready to go. She locked up and back to Baker Street they went.
When they got back, John started to gather things for the stitches he'll have to put Emilia's leg.
"What are you doing now?" Sherlock inquired, not as on edge as before though.
"Emilia has wounds that need tending to."
"Are they serious? She needs a hospital."
"I can do it. I would like if you oversaw the stitches though. If she appears to be in any pain I want you to tell me."
"She can't do that herself?"
"She insisted I do it without medication. Just by numbing her leg."
"Hm."
"Can I tell you something?" John peeked around the place to see if Emilia was still settling into his room.
"Continue."
"You're acting very odd."
"I'm always odd to you."
"Well, more odd than normal," John tried to explain as he gathered a great deal of ice in a bowl. "You've been quite bored, lately, too. By now you would have done shot another hole in the wall, or something. But this time, you're just angry."
"I'm trying to quit nicotine and it's not working. I took on this case, interested in the way the men are getting framed, or not framed, but most likely framed, and I have no information! Pictures, test results of tests I hadn't run, so who knows how accurate those results are, a mute witness—"
"Emilia is in shock!"
"Emilia," Sherlock annunciated the 'mi' in her name as he rolled around her name in his mouth. "If she doesn't talk soon, Lestrade is getting her back and putting her in the care of someone else!"
"She's in my care," John said annoyed, trying to keep his calm, "I take full responsibility of her. Not you. Why am I even arguing with you? It's pointless." John headed to his room, got one step in and backed out. "Be in here in five minutes, Sherlock. Don't let me down."
Sherlock turned away and stalked to the living room. His hands covered his mouth and then slid off. They landed on his hips as he looked around the room. He didn't know what was making him so angry. Maybe it really was the fact that a third person was going to be living here for a while. That person happened to be a girl. Was he afraid of losing John's attention to her? Well, that wouldn't be any different than John leaving for a date.
Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.
And that's the way Sherlock intends to keep it.
Emilia was instructed to lay on her side on the kitchen table that had been lined with towels. Her arm was under her head acting as a makeshift pillow. She was lying perfectly still as John peeled the glue from the surface of the wound, and actually pulling a bit out. Not once had she made any indication of pain.
John was sitting on a stool behind her where he had better access to the gash, where Sherlock sat in front of her, watching and studying.
Emilia's hand was gripping onto the edge of the table tightly; so tight her fist was shaking a little. That was an indication of pain, but her eyes looked different to Sherlock. They seemed to beg him not to say anything. He watched John peel out the last strand of glue, and blood started to drip from the cut. John cleaned it and put pressure on it.
"Doing okay, Emilia?"
She nodded in response. John looked to Sherlock for a second opinion. Sherlock didn't move. Just studied. She must be okay then…?
"We're going to ice it once it stops bleeding again. Now you promise me this wound isn't deep enough to require corrective surgeries of any kind? You promise?"
Emilia nodded again, closing her eyes.
"Alright. It looks like we're ready."
John readied the needle and thread, then placed the bag of ice he prepared on her thigh. Goosebumps raised almost instantly on her leg.
"Go ahead and hold this here, I need water. Does anyone need anything?"
Emilia raised her free hand, the one under her head in compliance.
"Sherlock?"
"I'm fine."
He hadn't broken his concentration on Emilia. Was he analyzing? John got two glasses of ice water and put a straw in Emilia's. He gave it to her and she drank a little over half of it from her laying position. John on the other hand, downed his quickly and got to work.
Emilia claimed she couldn't feel anything in her leg anymore after John asked her, so he started to sew the gash closed. When Emilia opened her eyes she right away caught Sherlock's gaze. He was watching her so intently that she couldn't even think. She, too, thought he was analyzing her again. She thought nothing of it.
Sherlock on the other hand was not actually analyzing her. He didn't want to know anything about her. He thought he knew enough from observing her already. He just wanted to learn the rest from her, seeing as how what he knows is so plain and boring. She has to have something special about her to be targeted by a serial killer rapist. Something.
"You doing okay?" John asked her.
Emilia's hand gave a thumb up.
"Almost done."
Sherlock's phone started ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket without looking at the caller ID.
"What?"
"What are you doing?" the voice on the phone asked.
"None of your business," Sherlock said with a short tone and hung up.
"Who was that?" John asked as he pulled the thread through Emilia's skin.
"No one, keep working."
Sherlock's phone rang again. "I said don't worry about it."
"Why is John operating on a girl on your kitchen table, Sherlock?"
Sherlock hung up the phone. He stood and took long strides into the other room and began to look around. Nothing.
"Sherlock was that Mycroft?"
"Concentrate on your work, doctor."
Emilia glanced at John with a confused look, but shook her head.
Sherlock made it back to the kitchen, and started looking around the corners and creases of the walls.
Emilia grunted from a stick of the needle in her leg, causing Sherlock to look at her.
"It's almost done, Emilia, you're doing just great."
The phone rang for the third time.
"What in the world does it matter?!"
"Sherlock, why is she there?"
"You know everything, shouldn't you know?"
"Why didn't you take her to the hospital?"
"It's none of your business."
"Sherlock, take her to a hospital."
"I'm fine with the doctor I have here." Sherlock hung up again.
"What does he want, Sherlock?"
"To interrupt my life in the most annoying way possible."
Emilia tried to clear her throat, but it sounded odd with no voice.
John tied off the thread on her leg, and then cleaned up his utensils. After applying a layer of Neosporin and bandages, he deemed her ready to go.
"Be careful with walking too fast. You can rip them open."
Emilia nodded, then yawned. She pointed at John's room.
"Ah, yes, get some rest. You definitely need it. I'll get you some clean blankets."
Emilia was careful in her steps as she followed John to the closet and to the room where they both changed the sheets and blankets. Emilia bid him a goodnight nod and after he left, started to change.
Sherlock's phone gave indication of a text message.
Be careful with that girl – MH
What's she going to do, give me the silence treatment to death? –SH
I know nothing about her. – MH
That was odd. Mycroft doesn't know anything about someone? He knows everything about everyone. That only means Sherlock would have to search for information on Emilia Hayes. He didn't know if he could find anything though, seeing as how the all-seeing eye of Mycroft hasn't. His boredom took the advantage though, he'll just wait for Mycroft to come back with information about her. If he would.
John joined Sherlock in the sitting room for the rest of the day to be kept in silence. Emilia slept the entire time, and all through the night.
I know things seem very slow right now, but this is the first time I've ever attempted a Fanfiction with characters with complex personalities. I'm trying to get a feel for dialogue between the boys and trying to fit in mannerisms. I'm sure you all have the imagination to see the conversations playing out in your heads. Also trying to create some relationships between all the characters is a challenge, but I can't quit writing. I hope to keep you all entertained and updated. Thank you for reading