"Sherlock..."
"Marie? Marie!" she heard a voice. She recognised it but wasn't sure who it was.
"Sherlock..." she said again, hoping the man would appear before her. She opened her eyes and found she was looking directly at the ceiling. She felt a warmth in her left hand. She turned her head to her side to find her father looking at her.
He looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes, lack of sleep with a mixture of worry and grief, he hadn't shaved in 3, no, 4 days and hadn't eaten this morning from his lack of plate with the empty mug next to him. His face was covered in worry but she saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes. She smiled.
"Dad..." she squeezed his hand gently. She looked at the damage across her body. She saw her right hand wrapped up in bandages and in a cast to try and repair the broken fingers. She sighed. She'd have to learn to write with her left hand from now on...
"I'm so glad your awake..." he said to her. He let the tear fall down his cheek. She rubbed her forehead.
"How long have I been out of it?" she asked. She wondered how much he knew. Did he know about Sherlock?
"Three days." he said with a small smile his face.
"How did I get here?" she asked, pretending she didn't know.
"One of Moriarty's men kidnapped you, shot you in the leg. Apparently a retired policeman came onto the scene and shot the man dead, contacted Molly and brought you here. I never got to thank him..." he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. "All that matters is that you're ok." he smiled at her and she smiled back. "I thought I'd lost you too..."
She felt guilty that he still didn't know about Sherlock's survival but she wanted to know more. She knew Sherlock would have asked Molly to check on her so she would ask her later.
She looked around the room. There were flowers on the table next to her bed. She smiled, they were obviously from Lestrade. Then she saw a cane resting on the chair on which her father sat. Her heart sank. His limp had come back.
But for now she would make the most of her father's company. They soon got into comfortable conversation.
Sherlock glared at his phone. Why hadn't Molly updated him on Marie yet? He sighed and began pacing across the room. He tried to concentrate on the papers on the wall, trying to locate where the rest of Moriarty's men were but he gave up with a sigh and fell into the armchair. He put his fingertips together and placed them on his chin.
He didn't know how long he'd sat there before his phone vibrated in his pocket.
She's awake. - Molly
He quickly dialled her number, putting the phone to his ear. He began pacing again until she picked up. He stopped in his tracks.
"Molly? How is she? Can she remember anything? Is John there? How long has she-"
"Sherlock!" she heard her whisper violently down the phone. "She's fine, responding normally. Yes John's here. He said she woke up saying your name, as if that's all she remembered."
He sighed of relief. He slumped back into his chair.
"Do you want to talk to her?"
"Molly you know how dangerous it would be if I went to the hospital-"
"On the phone..." Molly said, rolling her eyes. Of course she knew how dangerous it would be.
"Right, yes, okay. John can't be there though."
"Of course." she peered into the hospital room where the girl and her father were laughing away at each other. "He hasn't eaten today so I can send him to go get food."
Sherlock smiled. Typical John, he cared too much. His smiled vanished from his face. He was caring too much. He was worried about this girl. He hadn't known her very long but he knew he could trust her, like John. He felt his emotionless mask cover his face automatically, even though he was neither with someone nor speaking to anyone.
He heard the sound of someone knocking on the door and muffled voices. He heard the door close again and Marie's voice. His heart began to beat slightly faster but he soon corrected that. Caring is a disadvantage Sherlock, he told himself silently.
"Sherlock?" he heard her voice on the phone and sat bolt upright.
"Marie." he smiled slightly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thanks to you. Are you sure this is safe?"
"Don't worry it's a secure line." he said. She was still worried about him. How... Sweet.
"How did you do it?" she asked. "How did you survive?" she saw Molly shift uncomfortably in the chair on her right.
"It's complicated."
"Sherlock, you know me. I'll get it."
He sighed. She was right. He started to explain quickly. She looked at Molly who had gone slightly red in the face. Marie gave her a small smile as he explained her role in his 'suicide'. She got up and left the room to give them some privacy.
"Sherlock that was... Brilliant." she said with a smile of disbelief on her face. He smirked.
"No just the right people in the right places at the right time."
He heard her laugh quietly down the phone.
"How's John?" he asked. He almost wished he didn't ask that question.
"I don't know..." she said and he heard her sigh. "He's trying to stay happy around me but I can see the sadness in his eyes. He's not getting over you any time soon Sherlock."
"But is he alright?"
"He's managing, Sherlock. That's all I can say."
He sighed. He wanted to tell John, but it was just too dangerous. He was putting Molly and Marie's lives in danger just speaking to them.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
His grip on his phone strengthened. He hated being pitied but this felt different.
"Thank you." how else could he reply? He stretched out his legs and crossed them at his ankles.
"Marie?" Molly said as she popped her head round the door.
"Yeah?" she asked, a bit annoyed she was interrupting them.
"John, wait, I mean, your dad is coming."
"Okay..." she turned back to the phone. "Sherlock?"
"Marie."
"Be careful." he could hear the worry in her voice.
"You too. Keep John safe."
"I will." she looked at the door. "Goodbye Sherlock."
"Goodbye Marie."
He heard her hang up. He put his phone back in pocket and stood and looked at his wall covered in paper. He had to do this. He had to do it for John.