The Orphan
Summary: When Sherlock decides to go shopping out of boredom, he witness Ella getting beaten. When he scares away the bullies he does something that will change everything. Meanwhile John is starting to question if really isn't gay.
Disclaimer: To bad, too bad. I sadly do not own Sherlock. I do however own everything in this story that doesn't happen in the Sherlock.
Auteurs note: This is my first romance Fanfiction. Please do review and give me hints, but no flame please. Don't like, don't read. Thank you and enjoy.
Extra: It is rated K but there will be mention of child abuse.
Chapter 3 (Sherlock's POV):
The girl was breathing hard and clutching to her side. I sat on my knees and brought my hands to her shoulders. When we made contact she winched and froze. *It's okay. There gone.* it was like trying to shout a scared animal. When she calmed down she looked up. I could see her brown eyes through her brown hair. *Thank you. * She whispered. *Can you stand?* the young girl slowly came to her feet. *Yes.* She took a step forward but winched and grabbed at her ribs. *Let me see.* She didn't seem to sure but pulled away her arms, giving me access. *Tell me if it hurts* I put my hands on her ribs and felt for fractures. When I was halfway the ribs she inhaled hard. *Your lucky, it isn't broken. But it is heavily bruised. You need to let a doctor see it. *No doctor.* *What?* *No doctor, I can't see a doctor.*
She seemed distressed, I didn't think it was a good idea to ask why. She probably had a good reason. *Okay. I have an idea but you need to listen to the entire thing okay?* she nodded. *If you come to my flat I can have someone look at you. My flatmate is a doctor and he won't tell anyone. But if he can't help you, you need to go to some kind of doctor. All right?* She nodded again. *I live a few blocks away. Do you think you can walk?* The girl became very red. *With help, I think I can manage.* I bent down a little and wrapped my arm under her shoulder and above her ribs, to support her and we left.
It went very, very slow. And with every other person I would complain. I would probably just have called a doctor and left the person on the street, all dazed and surprised. But I felt some connection with the girl. I didn't know why. But I felt very protective of her. When we finally arrived we bumped into Mrs. Hudson. *Sherlock? Who is that? Is she one of your clients? Isn't she a little young?* *No Mrs. Hudson she isn't.* *Oh, is she part of you Homeless network? She looks a little healthy for that.* *No. She is a young girl who needs John too look at her. Now goodbye.* and we marched up the stairs. What was wrong with me? I was being rude to Mrs. Hudson for no reason and helping out a complete stranger? Oh well.
When I entered the room John was still at his computer on that stupid blog of his. *Your home early. Did they kick you out?* *No, John. I was held up and went home. Oh and I brought someone with me. She needs her help.* *We have a client?* *No. She needs your help. She needs a doctor to have a look at her.* John turned around and stared. He was clearly startled to see me with a young girl. *Uhm. Okay. Put her on the kitchen table.* *I don't think that is very hygienic, John.* I answered his questioned look with a meaningful one. He seemed to understand. The fingers might be gone, but that didn't mean everything was clean.
*The set her down in the chair. I'll look in a second. I sat her down on the sofa and sat down next to her. Waiting. *Okay. Let me have a look. Would you mind taking of your pullover and pull your t-shirt up a little so I can examine better. She was hesitating. Which is normal. Who would want to take of their closets in a room of two strangers? Slowly she took it off, and John started to poke and feel her ribs. *Bruised. I'll put a bandage around it.* and he left the room.