Hours go by, and I glance at my cellphone. No messages from either of the boys. I have written down everything that I can think of from the incident. I have cleaned the kitchen, bathroom and living room the best that I can. I made a list of groceries that we'd need to get, and now I have nothing to do. Sighing a little, I curl up on the window sill and look down at the road in front of the flat, shaking my head for a few moments. I don't understand why I have to stay inside. They may not have caught the men who did this to me, but surely those same men wouldn't know where I had been taken?
After glancing at my phone again for a moment, I take a deep breath and sigh, getting up. It couldn't be that bad if I just took a walk around the block. I would tell Mrs. Hudson where I was going. Yes, this was a good plan, I convinced myself, as I put on my jacket and shoes, jogging downstairs. After knocking twice on Mrs. Hudson's door, my plan is immediately derailed as I realize that no one is home, and I am the only one left in the building. That sends a shiver down my spine, suddenly feeling very lonely. I can't stay in the flat alone,t hat much is for sure. That scares me more than the thought of going out. At least outside there are other people. Yes, I would stick to public areas and it would be fine, I would probably be back before Sherlock was.
Turning toward the door, I stare at it for a few moments. I don't remember being agoraphobic before, but things have certainly changed for me in the last month or so. Taking a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and set my resolve, walking over and opening it. Sherlock was right, it is cool and the sky looks like it's about to open up. But at this point, I don't care. There isn't any umbrella close to the door and I am not about to go searching the entire flat, give myself an opportunity to chicken out. So instead I step outside and shut the door behind me, looking around a little before I turn toward the park that I was trying to get to before I was kidnapped by Mycroft's assistant for my impromptu shopping trip.
Being the middle of the day, there aren't many people out but the sidewalks aren't exactly deserted either. Stuffing my hands in pockets, I duck my head a little as I walk toward the park, starting to wonder if this was a good idea. Sherlock had some very good points, I still didn't have my strength back completely and my arms and legs already ached a bit from cleaning as much as I did that morning. Apparently I had a rather stubborn streak, though. Getting better was something that I wanted to do rather badly, so that I wouldn't be so useless to John and Sherlock. They said that I could stay there as long as I wanted, that they wanted me to stay. But realistically, what was I going to do? Cleaning and cooking would not take up that much time. I would have to find another job or something to keep myself occupied. I can't remember if I had any hobbies before all this happened. Everything was still rather jumbled in my head. The doctor said that everything I had been through had seemed to cause some form of amnesia, and that I may never get all my memories back. At least not in any sort of order that I could comprehend.
Stopping at a crosswalk, I waited for the light to change as I turned things over in my mind. John had a job, he was a doctor, and from what I could tell, Sherlock was some sort of detective or scientist. But neither of those were jobs that I could help with. I tried to think of hobbies that I could do that might help them, but I doubted either one of them would appreciate something like knitting or sewing, even if I had the patience for it. Scrap-booking. Ridiculous. Rubbing my forehead with one hand, I finally crossed to the other side of the road where the park was, entering it and starting down one of the paths, further from the sounds of the road and civilization.
~oOo~
John had gotten off early from work, spoken to Sarah and told her he had to go down to part time, that his priorities had changed. He does tell her about Sophia, how they rescued her and the care that he felt that she needed. He leaves out anything about a possible relationship with either her or Sherlock and her. He knows what it might seem like to other people. That she reacted to him and Sherlock just because they had rescued her. And maybe that was true, but it seemed like it ran deeper than that for her. And he knows he and Sherlock felt more deeply about the strange girl that had fallen into their life.
A small smile curls John's lips as he walks from the tube station toward the flat, thinking about seeing Sophia again. And yet the texts he got early this morning from Sherlock were worrying as well. He hadn't heard anything since, so he assumes that everything was settled and taken care of, but sometimes you could never tell with the detective. It was starting to drizzle now, and the doctor flips his collar up against the cold, wishing that he had remembered to bring an umbrella with him to work, but he hadn't been thinking straight. It was only another half a block until he got to 221B anyway. Letting himself into the entryway, the doctor sighs and shakes himself off a little before he starts to unbutton his now dampened jacket, not noticing at first how quiet everything is until he reaches the top of the stairs and sees the empty living room. Turning, he sees that the kitchen is likewise empty and he frowns. "Sherlock? Sophia?" He calls, heading to the bedroom to poke his head in there. Nothing.
Concerned, he digs into his pockets until he pulls out his mobile, glancing around the quiet flat as he tries to control the rising anxiety in his chest. He has a very, very bad feeling about this. Opening his cellphone, he looks down at it and opens a text to Sherlock. The detective bloody well better not ignore it. And he had forgotten to get Sophia's number, something he curses about as he realizes it.
Is Sophia with you? -JW
The response is quick which at least relives John somewhat, at least until he sees the text from Sherlock.
No, I had a lead I wanted to follow up on. She is at the flat. -SH
No, she's not. I'm at the flat. It's empty. -JW
Forced entry? -SH
Everything is in place. -JW
Before doing anything else John goes back to the bathroom, checking everything before he walks into the bedroom to check the closet and drawers. All of Sophia's things were still there, so he doesn't think that she just bolted.
Clothes & toiletries still here. Don't think she bolted. -JW
Call her mobile. -SH
I didn't get her bloody number. Going to go out and look for her. Started to rain. Don't want her to get sick. -JW
Clicking off his phone, John glances around the flat, leaving a note on the door for Sophia should she come back, telling her to stay put and call him. Closing his jacket up, he snatches an umbrella before flipping up his collar again, hurrying out the front door and snapping the umbrella open. Looking up and down the road, he tries to figure out which way Sophia might have gone, panic rising in his chest as he thinks about all the things that could have happened to her. Taking a deep breath and clenching his free hand, he finally turns, remembering what she said the other day about going to the park, and with determined strides, he heads that way, hoping his instincts are right.
~oOo~
It had started to rain, and I didn't have an umbrella. I had been sitting on a park bench when it started, and now I retreated to standing beneath some trees. My hair was damp, and I shivered, pulling my coat closer around myself. There was another fatal flaw to my impulsive plan. I didn't have keys to the flat. Which meant that unless one of the others were home, I was stranded in the park. Thoughts of my mobile are far from my mind, especially since it makes me feel like a stupid child.
Maybe I could just wait it out, rain never lasted long in London anyway, right? But I couldn't stay under the trees forever, they were already starting to drip big drops down on my head and shoulders. It was only a matter of time before they would no longer provide much shelter. Quickly looking around, I spotted a gazebo not far away, and made a dash for it, splashing through puddles as I jogged to the small building, shuddering a little once inside. The benches around the edges were all too wet from the rain, so I sat down in the middle where there was a dry spot, shivering a little as I pulled my knees to my chest. I was tired, and I ached all over, but I knew being out in the rain would be a bad thing.
I stared down at the one step up into the gazebo, my eyes half closed as I continued to try and work out how I could help around the flat more. At least that is what was on my mind as I saw a pair of shoes move into my line of vision.
"Bloody hell. There you are." John's voice was relieved and sounding a little shaken at the same time as he stepped forward toward me. I raised my eyes to squint up at him a little, staying silent but slowly shifting positions to take the offered hand which helps me into a standing position.
"John?" I ask dumbly, feeling like my mind is working a little sluggishly at the moment, too many thoughts and no solutions.
John nods a little, holding the umbrella in one hand still, and he slips his other arm around my shoulders to pull me close against his chest. "Blimey, you gave us a fright, Sophia. I got home early and you were just gone. After what Sherlock texted me this morning, I thought maybe you had bolted, but all your things were still there.." he shakes his head a little, holding me close before he turns his head and presses a kiss to the side of my head. "You're freezing.. come on.. we need to get you back to the flat and warm. What were you thinking?" he demands, now sounding a little frustrated and maybe a little angry.
"I got bored." I admit sheepishly, grasping the sides of John's coat as I lean into him, putting my head down on his shoulders. "I know Sherlock told me to stay inside, but.." I shrug a little, helplessly, not able to really explain my own foolish actions. "I just wanted to think a little. I didn't want to be afraid. Then it stated raining.." I sighed a little, then nodded slightly. "Take me home, John." I finally said, pulling back and avoiding his gaze.
A small nod is given from the doctor, and he puts his hand on my cheek for a few moments, kissing my forehead softly. "Alright. Come on, we can talk when you're out of your wet clothes and warm again." His concern for her as a patient takes the forefront of his mind as he propels me forward and out of the gazebo, holding the umbrella between us as he pulled out a cellphone and sent a quick text to Sherlock. I peeked at it as he tapped the glass with one hand, reading the simple message of 'Found Sophia. Going back to 221B. -JW'.
The walk back was shorter than I remember it being, and by the time we got there, I was shivering, heading up the stairs as John dealt with the door and the umbrella, removing my jacket and scarf, hanging them up on one of the pegs behind the door before pulling off my shoes one by one.
John came up when I was removing my shoes, and he shed his jacket, removing his shoes as well before he hurries to the bedroom, coming back with a towel and a blanket, which he holds out toward me.
"I need to change my jeans.." I mumble as I look from the towel to the blanket, taking the towel anyway to start getting some excess water out of my hair as I trudge into the bedroom. I don't think to close the door, just pulling out a comfy t-shirt, sweater and some yoga pants which I quickly change into, tossing the towel into the bathroom before I come out again.
By the time I'm finished with that, John has stoked the fire and made a cup of tea for me and himself as well, but he still walks over to wrap the blanket around me before he sits me in the high-backed chair near the fire, handing me the tea. "Drink." he says in a firm tone before he sits in the black leather chair across from me. "Now maybe you can explain what exactly you needed to think about?" He asks, his blue eyes worried as he watches me intensely.
To put off answering him for a few moments, I lift the mug to my lips and take a tentative sip, looking down at it for a few moments. "My place here." I mumble, then shake my head. "Not.. not my relationship with you and Sherlock, not really, just.. what I am going to end up doing. I can't help either of you with your jobs, I don't remember having any marketable skills. I don't remember if I had any hobbies. It will take me barely any time at all to keep this flat clean and cook meals, even if I do the laundry as well." I point out as I look around the room, my eyes settling briefly on John, but his gaze is too intense to hold for long, so I look back down at my tea, shivering a little an curling up a bit in the chair before taking a drink of my tea again.
"Listen, you can't hurry things, Sophia. You need time to recover. Think of it as a holiday. You don't have to start cooking and cleaning, you can sleep on the sofa all day or watch tellie for all we care." John reassures as he continues to watch me, reaching out to put a hand on my knee gently to give it a little squeeze. "I told the clinic I work for, that I have to back off to only a part time capacity, at least until you're better. I don't want to leave you here all the time, and Sherlock, well.. He's a bloody force of nature." He says with a small chuckle and a rueful shake of his head.
"You admire him a lot, don't you?" I ask as I look at him, tilting my head a little for a few moments. "I mean, he annoys you sometimes, but... Most of the time you have a lot of respect and admiration for him, it seems like." I say thoughtfully as I think over the way that he talks to Sherlock and the way he looks at him. "You two are so different.." I muse quietly, mesmerized by the dancing flames of the fireplace.
Chuckling a little for a few moments, John nods quietly. "I do. He's bloody brilliant. Even if he is the most frustrating man that I have ever known." he says honestly with a small smile. "The way his mind works and the things I've seen him do are so incredible, I can't even fathom how he does them." Sitting back in his chair now that I seemed to be relaxing a little, he drinks his own tea as he thinks about my comment. "We are different. Extremely. But I think that's why we get on. Yeah, we fight a bit sometimes, but it never lasts for long. I've got a bit of a temper sometimes you see, and I just need to cool off. I think if we were too similar, then this... thing between the three of us, this relationship, I don't think it would work. Sherlock was right, he and I have traits the other doesn't. I can't imagine him in a conventional relationship. Lord knows my relationships don't end well, either." He says with a smirk as he watches me, getting more comfortable now.
Slowly, I turn from the fire to watch John closely, staring at him for a few moments before I take a deep breath, making sure that I know exactly what I want to ask, even if I am afraid to ask it. "Do you really think that this will work between us, John?" I ask, wanting the truth and not what he merely hopes will happen, but his honest, brutal opinion.
Sensing the weight behind my question, John takes a drink of his tea before he sets it aside and leans back a little to watch me, giving the question some serious thought before he nods slowly. "I do, Sophia. I can't claim it will be easy. It's not as if there is a handbook for it, and you don't know us that well yet, to be able to tell our moods. But I think it can work."
I am surprised at how long this ended up being, writing for three people instead of just one or two certainly assists with the word count. :) Poor John nearly had a heart attack. Also, I realize I have no idea where I intended this to be in the series when I started it, but I know it is well before Reichenbach, which makes me sad because this time Sherlock will be leaving two people behind. :( Perhaps he will do things differenlty this time. Thank you to those reading, I hope that you enjoy this chapter!
Reviews/Comments welcome!