It was like the first day again, disorientation. Warmth and sound, rhythmic sound. Ah. A heartbeat. And with that, it came rushing back to me, how I had fallen asleep against Sherlock, who was apparently still there. And of course he was, I had fallen asleep half on top of him, how could he not still be there?
"I know you're awake." Sherlock said, and I felt it as much as heard it, smiling a little.
"Can't even let me have a few moments to wake up properly.. You must need to get up, then.." I slowly started to sit up, after opening my eyes, looking down at the very attractive man sprawled out on the couch under me, blushing a little before poking him since I couldn't get up properly without him getting up first.
With a little smirk, Sherlock gets up and stretches a little, looking back down at her. "You've been asleep for about two hours." he says as he looks down at me, before motioning to the table. "A cellphone for you." he says before he walks down the hall presumably to the bathroom.
I sat up slowly, groaning because I was stiff from laying on the sofa, reaching out to dig into the bag and pull out the phone, going through its contacts, which consists of Sherlock and John, preprogrammed which made me smile, and also Mrs. Hudson as an emergency contact. It was only by mistake that I found out about the button that shows me the last programs used, and when I saw the camera was one of them I opened the photo and promptly felt myself blushing. Especially since Sherlock had an ever-so-slight smirk on his face.
"I see you found the picture John took." Sherlock says with amusement as he comes out, going to make tea, since John isn't there to make it for him. "He went out for the shopping, if you want anything specific, you had better text him, given how fast he walks and how long he usually spends at Tesco, he should still be there." He says, looking over at me for a few moments.
I tried to cover up a yawn, still sort of waking up, but I smiled a little. "It's a very cute picture, thank you. We should get one of the three of us.. you know, for when I leave, so that I can remember you guys.." I had been thinking about it a lot, and now that I had my identity and all, I figured the boys would want me to leave soon, even if the morning's events might have said otherwise.
A small clattering of dishes came from the kitchen, including what sounded to be at least one mug that made its way to the floor and shattered. A moment later, a rather shocked looking Sherlock comes to stand in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. After a moment, his face smoothes out to emotionless, but there's a somewhat dark look about him. "What do you mean.. when you leave?" he asks in a dark voice.
I admit, it was a little intimidating seeing Sherlock like that, and I ducked my head to look at the phone so that I wouldn't have to look at him. "I just.. I mean.. I'm almost.. back on my feet now.. I mean.. there's still some lingering.. effects, I suppose, but.. I-I was an intruder here anyway, in the first place. You-you were nice, are nice, but I-I didn't.. don't.. think that you would want me to stay forever. You've been wonderful, but I didn't want to assume you would let me stay here. Three people in this flat is a little crowded I'm sure, and I don't really fit into the lifestyle that you two seem to enjoy." I was fiddling more with the phone now, feeling my chest tighten and a panic attack coming on at the thought of having to leave Baker Street. It was ridiculous, I knew that, and yet tears still pricked at my eyes as well. I took a slow, shuddering breath, looking at the phone that I had a death grip on, and I released it, slowly putting it down on the coffee table and clasping my hands together, resisting the urge to curl up into a ball.
Still not sure how to deal with situations like this, Sherlock took a deep breath, pressing his hands together in front of his face, taking a deep breath and thinking rapidly before he moves over slowly and sat down beside me, hesitating for a few moments before he slowly put one arm around my shoulders. "You are an idiot." He says flatly, making me wince a little. "John and I both want to stay here, Sofia. I thought we had settled this this morning. We want you to stay. For as long as you want. We will find a way to fit you into our lifestyle. John and I have discussed this several times while you were sleeping. This morning, last night... we both wish to continue along those lines if that is something you want. We both feel.. affection for you." he says quietly, a little awkwardly, squeezing my shoulder while letting his thumb brush against my shoulder blade.
By the end, though, I was glancing over at him nervously. "So you.. do want me to stay?" I asked, watching him, feeling ridiculously insecure. "And what do you mean.. continue along those lines?"
Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "John can explain that to you when he gets back, he's better with emotions and explaining them, if I do it, it will not turn out properly." He says with a little shake of his head.
I had no response to that, so we just sat in a rather awkward silence until the door downstairs opened, making me jump since I was fretting inside my head and trying to figure it out.
John's steps came slowly up the stairs and he sighs. "That took a bit longer than I anticipated." He says, heading straight to the kitchen and unpacking things, before he stepped into the living room to take in our stiff positions on the couch. "Ah." he says thoughtfully. "Alright.. what happened?" He asks, walking over to sit down on the coffee table in front of us, looking from me to Sherlock and back.
Sherlock withdrew his arm from around me awkwardly, and spoke before I could barely get my mouth open, his tone strained and maybe a bit sad. "Sofia believes that we don't want her to stay, that now that she is recovered, she has to leave." He says, looking at John with a slightly distressed look on his face.
I ducked my head, feeling very insecure, leaning over on my knees a little and clasping my hands together firmly, just nodding a little in confirmation. "I know I'll be a burden to you two and your lifestyle. I don't fit in. I don't have any skills that can help you, besides maybe cooking and cleaning. But that wouldn't exactly pay anything, so I wouldn't have a way to really.. help." I took a deep breath, fighting off the panic attack that was starting to rise again, but I started to talk more quickly. "You just took me in to help me out, and you've been more than generous, you've done more than anyone else would have, I just know that I-"
"Hey." John stopped me, putting a hand over one of mine, giving it a little squeeze. "First of all, you aren't a burden to us." He says, glancing at Sherlock, reaching out to put his other hand over the detective's to reassure him. "If you were, we wouldn't have done any of this. We want you to stay. Sherlock and I can handle the rent and anything else, you don't have to worry about money. And frankly, cooking and cleaning are more valuable than you think, especially cooking. Blimey, we could save quite a bit of money a month if we cooked at home but to be honest, I doubt Sherlock cooks, I'm not that great and most of the time I can't be arsed, especially after a long case." He said quietly, chuckling a little as he thinks about how many times they just collapse after a case.
"We like having you here, Sofia. Truly." John reassures, squeezing my hand gently as he looked into my eyes. "And last night.. this morning that was, um.. good, too." He says with a nod of his head. "We're not pushing. But if you'd like to continue along those lines.. we are open to it. Very open to it, actually." He wasn't looking at me now, but at our joined hands, turning a bright shade of red. Clearing his throat, he looks over at Sherlock, and smiles a little, nodding, before he brings the detective's hand closer, resting it palm-up, putting my hand in it, and then he puts his hand over both of ours, giving them both a squeeze. "So don't worry, Sofia. Take as much time as you want, or need. I do think us all sharing a bed is still good. It helps my nightmares from the war, and you slept better as well. And honestly, if it gets Sherlock on a steady sleep cycle, I'll agree to near anything." he says with a little smirk, looking over at the other man.
To say that I was floored is an understatement. I was gobsmacked, flabbergasted, and otherwise just startled that they would want me in that sort of way. A little confused about the whole threesome indications, but John said I could take my time, and I trusted him. I looked down at our hands, curling mine around Sherlock's the best that I could, indicate my assent in a small way, before I nodded. "Sharing a bed was.. nice.." I admitted as I looked between the two for a few moments, smiling hesitantly.
Sherlock just nodded, relaxing and looking relieved as he looked between the two. This all being so new to him, and not knowing what else to do, he squeezes both their hands, putting his hand over John's for a moment before he slowly gets up, walking over to his violin, something he hasn't touched for a few days, and he picks it up, tuning it for a moment before he looks out the window and starting to play softly.
John watches, not seeming bothered, and he smiles as he looks back at me. "It's alright, Sofia. Sherlock just needs to process things. He's not good with emotion stuff yet, I don't think. He has moments that he seems like he does, but overall, I don't think he does. The violin helps him think. I'm sure his Mind Palace is in a right mess." he says with a little chuckle before he gets up, stretching and offering his hand to me. "Come on, we've got a bit of time, so why don't we make dinner? I've got to go into the clinic tomorrow for a few hours, so it'll be just you and Sherlock for a bit, if you can cope with it."
I couldn't help but giggle. "He's very talented.. it's beautiful." I said enviously as I looked over at the violin-playing Sherlock. "And I'm sure I can deal with him for a few hours... I was thinking of maybe.. seeing if I could go for a little walk tomorrow. I saw a park a block over from here." I was a little nervous about this decision, but after how protective the two were of me, I knew that I would have to go out on my own soon. "And I have a nice new phone, in case I get into trouble.." I said with a little blush as I followed John into the kitchen, warily looking at the science stuff, then sighing. "You cook, I'll clean." I grumbled as I looked at the state of the kitchen, finding a sponge and some gloves before I started to scrub down the cabinets and counters.
"It's good that you want to go out on your own but you don't have to rush things. And don't go too far, too soon. We still haven't caught all of those people who kidnapped you." John says worriedly, moving around me to get pans out, frowning suspiciously at some, though really they only have one pan, and two pots.
"It's pretty obvious two bachelors live here." I felt the need to point out as I continued to clean, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to get the overhead cabinets, suspicious of some of the stuff that I scrubbed off, but when I was nearly finished, I looked over at John who was working at the stove, making some sort of pasta.
"Oh? Besides the mess in general, what makes you say that?" John asks, amused, having had to put up with a lot as far as the mess of the flat, but that he could adjust to as long as his own space, his room, was neat and precise per his military training. And he was relieved to see that Sherlock's room was quite neat as well. Though the detective barely seemed to use it, so maybe it wasn't that big of a surprise.
"I've looked in the cabinets. You own a few baking dishes, but otherwise, that's all the pots and pans you own." I pointed out with a little smile, feeling much better about everything, starting to relax a little again.
John sighs a little, looking at the pots and pans curiously for a few moments. "Not always by choice. Sherlock has ruined a few of them with his experiments. We haven't been able to replace them yet." He explains as he motions. "Can you get out some plates, they should be in that cabinet, along with mugs for tea and silverware should be directly beneath it." He says with a small smile.
Nodding, I went and cleared the table off again from this morning, being very careful with everything so as not to disturb it, before I scrubbed down the table and started to set it, putting the kettle on for tea and finding everything we needed for that.
After all the food was prepared and John was serving it onto plates, I had set the tea to steep before I walked over to where Sherlock was still playing his violin. Not wanting to jar him out of his thoughts or song, paused behind him, gently resting my hand between his shoulder blades. "Dinner is ready." I spoke softly, keeping my hand there while not restricting movements.
"Not hungry." Sherlock said dismissively as he continued to play, but didn't move away from the touch.
Remembering the conversation from this morning about women always getting their way, I smiled a little, and removed my hand, and then moved a little closer behind him, leaning in to rest my forehead between his shoulder blades instead, hands resting on either side of his waist, fingers grasping at his shirt for a moment. "Sherlock, you need to eat.. You can go back to thinking afterwards." I tried to be convincing, keeping my tone gentle and hopeful. "Surely that big brain of yours can multitask.. think and eat at the same time? I cleaned the kitchen, and John cooked.. Don't worry, I made sure not to spill or mix up anything that was on the table. Anything that looked too volatile, I just put off to the side." I explained as I closed my eyes a little, listening to the violin. "Please come eat." I finished softly, slipping my arms around his waist for a moment to give him a little squeeze before I released him, all without disturbing his playing, and walked back to the kitchen to sit down at the table.
A few moments later, a sigh came from the living room and the music stopped, everything carefully put away before Sherlock walked into the kitchen, sulking a little as he sat down and picked up his fork without saying a word, pointedly putting a bite in his mouth as he looked at me.
I couldn't help it, I grinned, then laughed a little at him. "Thank you." I said happily, looking over at a somewhat shocked looking John, who had a bite of pasta halfway to his mouth, staring at Sherlock for a moment.
"Bloody hell." John says before he chuckles a little. "I guess gentle persuasion works better on you than force, eh?" He asks the detective playfully, the forkful of food finally making its way to his mouth.
After taking a few bites myself, I shook my head. "John, be nice. This is good, by the way.. thanks.. It feels like forever since I had a decent meal." I admitted, blushing a little as I looked down at my food.
Sherlock looked between us for a few moments. "It is rather good." He says a little self-consciously, but he kept eating slowly, not looking at either of us, or at least that's how it appeared.
John was more surprised at that, and he smiled. "Thank you, Sherlock." he reached out, putting a hand on Sherlock's arm for a moment before withdrawing it, just a brief touch but it seemed to relax Sherlock, and I grinned at them both. After finishing the food, I got up to clear away the plates, touching Sherlock's shoulder gently. "See? Wasn't so bad.." I said with a little smile, filling the sink with hot water and putting the dishes in it before I said, "And now.. I'm going to do some more laundry, and then go to take a shower." I announced with a smirk, before I wandered off to the laundry room to switch things around with some of my new clothes, then I found a towel and took it to the bathroom to shower.
When I was finished this time, I dressed in some new, soft pajama pants, a tanktop with a thin sweater over it because the flat was a little cool. I didn't wash my hair, not liking to sleep on wet hair, and when I came out, I stopped by the laundry room too switch loads around, bringing a basket out to the main room. Apparently Sherlock and John had the same idea I did, because they were both in their pajamas, Sherlock with a dressing gown on as well. He was pondering over something on his laptop, one side of the robe falling down his shoulder and it made him look oddly adorable. Whereas John was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table watching tellie, and he looked positively cuddly, having a jumper over his sleep t-shirt, no doubt to keep warm like my sweater was. I smiled, not saying anything as I sat beside John and quietly folded my clothes, making little piles until I could pack them back all into the basket. It was oddly domestic, quiet, and soothing. The only time I left was to go put my clothes away in the space Sherlock had made for me in his closet, and to go get more clothes out of the dryer. I was running all my new clothes through so it was going to take at least another load or two, and took a while because I had to remove all the tags, even if none of the price tags were left on them, the size tags and such were.
Eventually, I returned to the living room to find both Sherlock and John at either end of the sofa, leaving the middle open for me, and I chuckled softly, considering as I sat between the two, looking from one to the other for a few moments before I tipped over, putting my head down on John's leg, and swinging my feet up into Sherlock's lap, surprising the detective, who lifted his hands out of his lap quickly and then just let them hover for a moment before he put them down on my legs. I smirked a little down at him, then adjusted and squirmed, getting comfortable, feeling one of John's hands start to play with my hair as he chuckled. "What? It's the only way to properly cuddle with two people on the couch." I pointed out in a slightly pouty tone.
"It was merely.. unexpected." Sherlock reassured, giving my ankle a small squeeze.
"It's fine, Sofia. It's nice. I'm glad you're comfortable enough with us to just initiate something like this." John reassured, running his fingers through my hair slowly, something I enjoyed immensely.
"Good. Because it's actually really comfortable." I said simply before I looked back at the TV to see what we were watching now, noting that it was some murder mystery show, and soon Sherlock was yelling at the TV about how idiotic it was and obvious, which just made me giggle every time he pointed out how ridiculous it was. And of course, he was always right. But all too soon, I started to get sleepy again, and reluctantly I sat up, stretching my arms above my head. "I feel like all I do is sleep recently." I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes.
John placed a hand softly between my shoulder blades, watching me. "You're recovering from a rather horrible ordeal, Sofia. You need your sleep to heal. I'm sure you'll settle down into something more regular soon. But as your doctor, I would recommend listening to your body." He said with a little smile.
In a swift, graceful movement, Sherlock stood, looking down at us before offering his hand to me. "You should get some sleep as well, John. It's late, and you become rather irritated if you can't get a full night's sleep." He explains, shrugging as he helped me up off the couch, his dressing gown falling off one shoulder again, giving him that adorable, almost childlike look I witnessed earlier. "And yes, I intend to join you both, in order to assist you." So that last part might have been a little bit of a white lie, but it seemed neither of us wanted to call him out on it.
After standing, I turned and offered my other hand to John, who switched off the tellie before taking it to get up, bringing empty cups to the kitchen sink before turning off the lights and returning to take my hand. "Alright, let's go, then." He said simply, letting Sherlock lead the way back to his bedroom.
It was a little childlike, forming a chain through our hands as we walked through to the bedroom, but I just smiled as I thought about it, releasing their hands once inside the bedroom to remove my light sweater and put it over the chair, where it was joined by Sherlock's robe and John's jumper. I was the first into the bed, slipping under the covers and sitting in the middle to wait and watch the other two. Apparently with a glance they reached a unanimous decision and they took up the same positions as the night before, John closes to the door with Sherlock on the other side of me.
I remembered how we woke up this morning, but that wasn't exactly deliberate, even if it was comfortable, so I wasn't sure if I was allowed to resume the position. That decision was somewhat taken away from me though as Sherlock shuffled closer to my side, putting his arm around my waist and turning me on my side so that he was spooning me again, lifting his head to look at John over me. With a small little smile, John shifted closer, lifting one arm over his head so that I could fit myself against his side, my head on his chest, and my arm curled over on top of it. Sherlock follows me, loosening his hold so I can get comfortable before fitting himself up against my back again, his head nestled close to the back of mine, so I could feel his breath lightly on the back of my neck. It was comforting and warm, John pulling the covers up around the three of us.
"Goodnight, John, Goodnight, Sherlock." I murmured quietly with another little smile, rubbing my cheek against John's chest gently. "Thank you.." I felt myself add after a few moments.
The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was a soft stereo of, "Goodnight, Sofia." That I felt as much as I heard, drifting off blissfully.