Unsolved
The next morning, I woke up on John's lap. He was already awake when I abruptly sat up.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." I said, as I quickly retreated to the other end of the sofa.
"It's fine. I didn't want to wake you up. Are you ok?"
"Yea, I'm fine I guess. Is Sherlock back yet?"
"I'm here." He said from behind me. I jumped, and turned around. He was standing directly behind me and his hands were resting on the sofa behind my head. His curly hair was tousled, and his shirt was slightly unbuttoned so I could just barley see his sculpted chest. If I wasn't so mad at him, I probably would have blushed.
"Oh, hi. So will you tell me what's going on please?" I asked, as I met his gaze. His blue green eyes bore down into mine, and he tilted his head at an angle and came down closer to me. My pulse quickened as his hand brushed up against mine, and he brought his lips close to my ear. I stood still as a statue as his warm breath tingled my neck. He said one single word in a low whisper against my neck, and it gave me goose bumps.
"No."
I snapped back to reality.
"No what?" I asked, forgetting what I was talking to him about.
"Exactly." Sherlock said. He withdrew from me, and walked away. I looked at John who simply shook his head.
"Sherlock, you're not being fair. You said she could go back down to her apartment in the morning. And we promised her an explanation." John said, as he started getting up.
"John, I didn't find anything. She can't go back down. And she is not to know what is going on. It could put her into danger if she knows."
"I am sitting right here, you know." I said to Sherlock. He ignored me and started pacing in front of the door again.
"I'll go down with her." John said. Sherlock considered it for a moment, but then shook his head.
"No. Absolutely not."
"But Sherlock, the girl wants to go ba-"
"I'm going with her." Sherlock said. John looked at me, and then looked at Sherlock.
"Fine."
"Uh, no. Not fine. I'm not going downstairs with him." I said, annoyed that John didn't persist more.
"Listen, Emily. You either go down to your apartment under my supervision, or you say up here the rest of the day. Your choice."
John shot Sherlock a look, but Sherlock ignored it, and opened the door. I reluctantly got up, and sulked out the door with Sherlock behind me. He walked in front of me and opened my door. He went inside and sat on my sofa, making himself at home. I glared at him and gathered some clothes and toiletries since I was sure I wouldn't be allowed back down. While I was grabbing clothes, I noticed something by my fireplace. When I got closer, I felt dread creep to every part of me. I sank to my knees in horror.
"Sh- Sherlock." I said, in barley a whisper. He came right next to me and saw what I was looking at. There was a blank piece of paper sitting in my fireplace. Next to it was a picture of the bloody corpse of the man who was shot. I could clearly see the bloody engraving in his skin. It read, "221C." I started to shudder violently, and I wanted to get out. I felt another panic attack come on, but Sherlock pressed me down onto the floor to stop my shaking.
"This is why I didn't want you down here!" He said as he tried to keep me still. "John! John get down here now!" He called. John came down immediately.
"What the hell happened? What's wrong with her?" He asked worriedly.
"Why are you asking me? You're the bloody doctor!" Sherlock said. He let go of me, and I broke into a fit of crying. I tucked my knees to my chest, and tried to stop shaking. John came up behind me and pulled me to my feet.
"C'mon. You need tea. Let's go." He said as he led me to the door. I didn't object to leaving.
When we were back upstairs, John sat me on the sofa, and he was about to make me tea, but I gripped his shirt, and pulled him down to me.
"Please don't leave." I said. I didn't want to be alone. He sat down next to me, and took my shaky hands into his own.
"I won't leave. But you need to calm down. Your heart is beating too fast, and it'll give you a heart attack." He said as he checked my pulse through my wrist. "Take deep breaths. You're safe here." He pulled me into him, and I pressed my head to his neck. He gently trailed his hand down my back to soothe me.
"John. I don't want to die." I whispered.
"Emily, you will not. Don't even think like that. In fact, I don't want you thinking about this at all."
"How can I John. Someone is trying to kill me. It's all I can think about."
John gently pulled my head up to his. He brushed a tear off my cheek, and kissed my forehead.
"How about a movie?" He said, as he reached for the remote. I nodded in agreement, and rested my head against his chest. I listened to his steady breathing, and tried to match it so I could calm down. After he found a movie, he checked my pulse again.
"Good. You're heart rate went back to normal." He said as he moved his hand away from my wrist. But I quickly grabbed his hand, and wove my fingers in between his. He didn't protest. He moved his other hand from my back to my waist, and he pulled me closer into him.
I was fast asleep when the movie was over, but I was woken up when I heard Sherlock come back in.
"How is she?" I heard him say.
"She's stable, but she was close to a heart attack." John said. I could feel his voice echo through his chest.
"Well, I warned her."
"Sherlock, do you mind sitting next to her? I need to use the bathroom, and I don't want her to go into another attack if someone isn't near her."
I head Sherlock sigh very loud, but he must have agreed. Because John started to gently undo himself from me, and laid me down on the sofa. I felt Sherlock slump down next to me.
"Keep a hand on her so she knows she's ok." John said as he walked off.
"Seriously?"
"Who's the doctor?" John said as he shut the bathroom door. Sherlock sighed and placed a reluctant hand on my shoulder. It was too awkward for me to handle, so I gently pushed his hand off, and sat up.
"It's ok Sherlock. You can go back to whatever you were doing. You don't need to watch me."
"I beg to differ miss Emily. After what happened this morning, I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone."
"Oh, Sherlock. I can taste the sarcasm." I said bitterly.
"Hmm, you catch on quickly."
"Can I ask you something?"
"No."
I gave him a look, but continued. "Why do you hate me so much?"
He paused a long time before he answered.
"I don't hate you Emily. You just bore me. But don't take it personally. Everyone bores me."
"Ok. What makes a person not boring?"
"Someone who doesn't ask stupid questions." He said sharply. I nodded and abruptly stood up. I stormed off towards the door. "Where do you think you're going?" He yelled.
"Sherlock, take your own advice. Don't ask stupid questions." And with that I left the apartment. I went downstairs, and headed out side. I heard Sherlock coming after me, but I ignored it and flagged down a taxi. I wanted to be alone for a while, and maybe the further I was from Sherlock and John, the better my chances were for living. I climbed in and told the taxi driver to take me to Hyde Park.