Sherlock hurried back to the flat, even after he knew that Sophia was back safe, looking around the flat when he gets inside. He can tell by the way I am looking at John and the way John is sitting that something is going on, but that doesn't stop him from frowning.
"It will be impossible to trust you if you don't keep your word, Sophia. You said you would stay in the flat, then you went out wandering without so much as leaving a note." Sherlock berated me rather thoroughly in just a few words.
He may not have said much, but his words were like a slap to the face, and any ease I felt in the last little while with John was obliterated in two simple sentences. Looking down at my mug, I admit to myself that it didn't really cross my mind that way. "I was bored. You didn't say how long you would be, and you were gone for a while.. I didn't see the harm in it..." I finally admit, knowing how much I sound like I am pouting, or whining. I can't seem to help myself though
"Sherlock." John says in a chastising tone, trying to get the man to pay attention, looking at me meaningfully as if to silently say 'look at her', before he looks at the detective. "If we don't want her to go out without one of us, then we should make more of an effort to stay here to make sure that if she wants or needs to go out, then she has someone to go with her." He decides gently as he continues to watch the detective.
Removing his jacket and scarf, Sherlock spares me a glance before he hangs both items up, ruffling his hands through his damp hair since it's still drizzling out. "She needs to understand the seriousness of the situation." He says as he looks at John. "While it is good that she is safe here, it doesn't mean she will be safe out there." To punctuate his point, he stabs a pale finger toward the window.
Maybe I'm still emotional from the last few days, but those comments hurt, especially since Sherlock starts talking like I'm not even there. Quietly, I pull my knees up onto the chair with me and hug them against my chest. "I don't understand..." I finally admit. I knew John warned me that the last few days were unusual behavior for Sherlock, but I didn't think he would be mean. Slowly, I turn to look at the pacing detective, deciding that keeping things inside is no good. "I mean.. I do understand it's dangerous, but I can't stay locked in here all day, every day..." I point out quietly, hating how my voice trembles as I look between them. "I don't want to be any trouble, if I'm causing either of you trouble, I.. I could go. I have my cards and things now, I could find a hotel room maybe..." My voice fades as the expression on Sherlock's face turns from what appears to be anger, to shock and confusion.
Seeing that he will have to intervene, John sighs and rubs his forehead with one hand. "No! Sophia, no. We don't want you to leave. What Sherlock is trying to do - poorly I might add - is tell you how worried he was when I told him you were gone. I am fairly sure it's an unexpected emotion for him, but he is not wanting you to leave. He was just worried for your safety." He says before he looks at Sherlock for a moment.
Having stopped his pacing, the lanky detective is now staring at me in confusion. "Of course you'll be staying with us. A hotel is a ridiculous idea, a waste of your finite resources, and not necessarily a safe place. Do you know how many people have access to hotel rooms?" He asks with a small frown as he looks at me, before he sighs, running a hand through his hair, the other hand on his hip, head ducked slightly as he tries to figure out the puzzle that I apparently present to him. "Why would you suggest leaving? Of course John and I want you here, I believe we have made that abundantly clear by now." He adds in a frustrated tone that makes me wince.
"Sherlock!" John snaps sharply, getting to his feet as he apparently gets ready to defend me or give Sherlock a stern talking to. I don't even know what to say, not wanting this to turn into a yelling match, while blinking away tears that are in my eyes.
This is ridiculous, a rational part of my brain argues, you have tried more in the last few days than you probably have in the last few months, you need to pull yourself together, you can't fall apart every time one of them says a cross word toward you! The stern voice in my head sounds quiet despite everything, and for now I have to ignore it, in favor of paying attention to the scene in front of me.
Frowning a little, and seeming a bit bewildered as Sherlock looks between John and I, he finally allows his ethereal blue-green eyes to settle on John. "Not good?" He asks finally, as if those two simple words could tell him everything he needs to know about the conversation.
"Very Not Good, Sherlock." John says as he crosses his arms over his chest, and while his voice is firm, he keeps it level. "Sophia is not fully recovered, has no memory of her former life and she has had a stressful few days. Being locked in here while we go about our lives is probably not helping. Not only that but she is now living with two men who she barely knows, and has entered into a non-traditional relationship, or at least the beginnings of one. I am fairly sure that she has the right to be emotional and feel uncertain about her place. We have been doing a bloody awful job about it, and cocked everything up more than once." He observes as he watches his flatmate, keeping his arms crossed and his stance firm as he watches the detective.
After letting that sink in for a minute, John takes a deep breath. "Now. I know you're upset, and I know you were worried about Sophia. Why don't you go and get some food from Angelo's, and when you get back you can tell us if you found any leads while we eat." He says slowly, not wanting to order the younger man to go and take a walk to cool off, but it's obvious that his words are a little more than a suggestion.
Even though it must go against his natural, Sherlock decides that retreat is the better part of valor afterall, and her merely nods. "Fine." He understand why John is sending him and doesn't argue, going to get his coat and scarf back on before he leaves the flat, shutting the door quietly behind him so at least that shows he can't be too angry.
~oOo~
When Sherlock leaves the flat, he looks around for a moment as he considers what John had just told him. True, perhaps Sophia's reactions had not been unacceptable, but he had been truly, irrationally worried when John told him she was not in the flat. With the way his mind races, he instantly thought of a dozen things that would have taken her away from them permanently. He had found out he was a bit of a protective man.
And then to get home and have her think - again! - that they didn't want her there, it followed no logic and frustrated him. How many times had he and John told her that she was welcome, that she was wanted? It made him want to find out more about her, perhaps her distrust in them came from something older or deeper, from memories that she can't access. Sometimes feelings remain even if a person cannot remember why they feel a certain way.
As he started walking, he continued to think - in detail - about everything that had happened in the last few days. One simple conclusion came to mind. They had told her many times she was wanted, but while she had done everything to make sure that she wouldn't be useless - the shopping, the presents, doing the chores - he and John did not do anything to show Sophia that she was wanted. Yes, there had been some physical affection, but only slightly more than what close friends would do, in his limited experience and observations.
Working the cases he has and observing the people the way he does means that Sherlock knows a few things about people. How else would he be able to guess motivations so well? And in the limited experience he has in observing or interacting with the fairer sex, it is rather obvious that women like to feel wanted, or at the very least appreciated. And now that his mind is clearer and he can look back on their interactions more objectively, he can admit to himself that perhaps he and John have failed with that. John is hesitant and while he is the more physical of the two, he is also very restrained, very British. And he himself of course has been distant at best. Just that morning he pushed Sophia away when she was comfortable enough to cuddle with him. What she must have thought of that!
Hunched slightly against the continuing drizzle, Sherlock pauses outside of a florist's shop, tilting his head as he observes the flowers inside, then he smiles slightly as he considers hatching a plan, not sure if he should share his insights with John just yet. Perhaps later, but at the moment he feels that he should make sure Sophia knows she is wanted.
~oOo~
When Sherlock moves toward the door, I can do little else than just watch and stare for a few moments, feeling a bit emotionally unstable and wondering if what John said was true. Surely I wasn't like this all the time? Heavens, I hoped not at least.
Turning toward me, John smiled slightly, though it looked almost apologetic, and he stepped forward, putting a hand on my knee before he tucked back my hair a little. "We're all a bit high strung. Maybe after this is all over, the three of us should go on holiday." He half jokes with a small smile. "Come on, let me run you a bath so you can relax a bit without us staring at you." He offers, giving my knee another squeeze before he walks toward the bathroom and starts to run the water.
All I can do is give him a little nod, even though I enjoy the brief touch of his fingers against my skin. I feel like something is being hidden from me by the Baker Street boys. Surely there must be another reason that they want me to stay in the flat, other than the fact that not all of the men who kidnapped me were arrested? That simply makes no sense, and if that were the case, shouldn't they be calling Scotland Yard to put a protective detail on the flat or something?
Slowly, I forced myself to get up, walking to stand in the doorway to the bathroom. "John?" I ask slowly, watching the way he is bent over the tub with his sleeves rolled up, making sure that the water is a good temperature. "Is there something you're not telling me about my case? It seems like there is something more going on here that you and Sherlock aren't telling me." My voice is soft and I notice my voice sounds somewhat uncertain, not wanting John to get upset with me or anything like that.
Turning to look at me, John sighs a little. "I don't know. There might be, but until we know something more for certain, neither of us wanted to worry you." He points out, getting up after putting some rose-scented oil or something, but the heat from the water soon started to spread the smell throughout the bathroom.
"Oh... alright." What else could I say? They were trying to protect me, I just wish I knew from what. It must be something they thought would bother me, that I wasn't ready to hear. And maybe they were right, my mental state was apparently precarious at best right now anyway, if the last 24 hours were any indication.
Standing slowly, John shook some water off of his hand before he turned toward me and smiled, reaching out to rest his hand along my bicep, giving it a little squeeze. "Maybe after Sherlock gets back.. You've just been through so much in a very short time, we want things to settle down a bit before getting you worked up over something that may not actually have anything to do with you." He points out, rubbing my arm for a moment before stepping forward and kissing my forehead. "Go on, have a soak, you'll feel better. I'm going to pop out to the shop on the corner for some wine. I know you said you don't think you usually drink, but I think we all deserve a glass." He says with another smile before slipping past me out the door, closing it behind him. Standing there for a moment, I sighed and turned to the cabinet curiously, happy to find some candles and a lighter underneath. Who knows what they had been used for before, but they were dusty and seemed to have been there for a while. After arranging them and lighting them, I turned the light off and then undressed to slide into the water and shut off the tap since the water was more than high enough. It was a bit heavenly, and as I relaxed, I remembered Sherlock complimenting a similar scent that I have in my shampoo, which makes me smile. Hopefully both the boys liked the smell, because it was surely going to linger on my skin.
After the bath, we would eat dinner, and maybe I could convince the two to tell me what is going on and what has them so concerned. Though I am not entirely sure I will be able to do that. I just wish everything was behind me and I could move on, but it seems like something is holding back and that is a little upsetting. This is a unique situation for all of us, I reminded myself, and it required a great deal of patience. Patience that I could hopefully muster up.
At least Sherlock is learning, but they are all fumbling around a but as they try to work some things out. Thank you for reading and for your reviews!
Comments/Reviews welcome!