Fully Alive
Chapter Two
Vivienne followed her grandmother down the stairs to John and Sherlock's apartment carefully holding a tray laden with Christmas cookies. They entered the open door and John greeted them warmly.
"Merry Christmas, Vivienne, Mrs. Hudson. Can I help at all?" John asked brightly.
"Just guide me to where I can sit this down and that'll be great." Vivienne smiled, not wanting more help than necessary.
"Just right into the kitchen then."
Vivienne's eyes widened widened a bit when she realized John wasn't going to lead her there. She was about to say something when a deep, piercing voice rang through the air.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, John. Can't you see she's blind?!"
The conversations that had been floating through the apartment stopped suddenly and John began stumbling over his words.
Vivienne decided to try and cut the obvious tension. "I'm WHAT?!" She shrieked. "Oh, my god. Gran, did you know I was blind? Why didn't you tell me?" She sighed dramatically. "I think I have to go lie down now. This revelation has been just too much."
Mrs. Hudson swatted Vivienne on the hip, trying not to laugh. "Enough, dear. You've made your point."
Vivienne shrugged. "I'm not particularly fond of my afflictions being shouted about in a room full of people I don't know, Mr. Holmes. So, if you would refrain from that in the future, I'd greatly appreciate it."
"How'd she even know it was me? She can't even see me." Sherlock mumbled.
"But I can hear you. And I don't think anyone else in this room, or possibly even the world, would be that big of an asshole."
John groaned as Sherlock stepped closer. "Here. I'll take these." He took the tray of cookies and walked away.
"And just who are you?" Sherlock asked as he stepped into Vivienne's space.
"We have met before, Mr. Holmes. When you got my grandfather executed. Should I be offended that you deleted me from your precious Mind Palace?"
"I delete lots of unimportant things. So, you're Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter... Pardon if I don't remember your name." Sherlock paused. "Was it... Kaitlin? Or something just as boring."
Vivienne couldn't help but laugh.
Mrs. Hudson walked by and stuck a wine glass in her hand. "You're going to need this."
"Of course you'd remember Kati. No one forgets her. She was my roommate. My name, Mr. Holmes, starts with a V. And rhymes with 'Livienne'."
"Ah, Vivienne. Sorry. Still don't remember."
"Don't apologize when you don't mean it." Vivienne felt a presence to her left and turned a bit. "John, please don't feel put out that you didn't notice. I don't exactly shout it from the rooftops."
"How'd you know it was me?" John asked. "Sorry, just curious. You can see a bit, then?"
" Of course she can't." Sherlock began. "She-"
But Vivienne interrupted him. "I can see shapes, actually. Most everything is different shades of gray, but I can distinguish things if they're close enough. And your cologne got stronger when you got closer. I'm kind of like a drug dog. Everyone smells different." She She took a sip of her wine and waited for the inevitable questions that followed.
" Have you been this way your whole life?"
"Of course she has, John." Sherlock answered.
"Actually, I haven't. I had an accident when I was young. Hit my head and woke up blind." Vivienne answered like she was reading from a script.
"Someone is off their game tonight." John chuckled.
"Excuse me." Sherlock stalked off, presumably to go embarrass someone else.
"Well, that was fun." Vivienne laughed. "Poor guy. Must hurt to be wrong that many times in a row."
John began to laugh but stopped when he heard Sherlock's voice overpowering someone else. "I'm sorry. Have to go rescue someone else."
Vivienne sipped her wine as she heard a small voice reply to Sherlock saying "You always say such horrible things..."
Well, at least it's not just me. Vivienne thought.
The Christmas party went off without another hitch, unless you count Sherlock running off early, and Vivienne made her way down to her apartment full of wine and snacks a few hours later.
xxxxx
A small noise jerked Vivienne from her sleep and without even opening her eyes, she realized she wasn't alone in her living room.
"You know, most people knock before they enter someone's home, Mr. Holmes."
"Most people don't sleep on their couches."
"My bed hasn't been delivered yet."
How'd you know it was me?" Sherlock took it upon himself to take a seat in the chair across from the couch.
"You smell like Old Spice and cigarettes." Vivienne sat up and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. "My apologies if I don't offer to get you a drink. But it's 3 in the morning. And I'm also not wearing pants. I mean... Sleep pants. Pajama bottoms. Why do you call underwear 'pants'? Underwear is not pants. Pants are pants."
Sherlock ignored Vivienne's rambling. "Your blindness, it's psychosomatic."
"Did you really break in at three in the morning to tell me what I already know? That I'm practically an invalid and it's all in my head? You're a bit late to that party, Holmes." Vivienne ran her hands through her hair.
"What kind of accident did you have? I can't quite figure that one out."
"You heard me tell John. I hit my head." Vivienne shrugged.
" If you're going to lie, learn how to lie better." Sherlock sounded bored.
"You really want to know?"
"I'm not a fan of not knowing."
"When I was eight, an associate of my grandfather's kidnapped me. They held me for a week. When the ransom was being paid, they knocked me out so I couldn't tell anyone where they had brought me to the drop point from. I woke up blind from the damage to my brain. My brain healed, my eyes didn't. End of story. My doctor says that at the rate my eyesight is deteriorating, I'll be completely in the dark sometime in the next seven years."
"So, get out of your head. Simple as that." Sherlock sounded so sure of himself.
"Twenty years of blindness and you don't think I've tried that? Everyone thinks I'm crazy because I'm getting worse. And maybe I am." Vivienne shrugged.
"Of course you are." Sherlock stated. "You have psychosomatic blindness. Obviously you're crazy."
"Do you really not remember me?"
"No." Sherlock stood suddenly. "Well, I'll let you get back to sleep."
"Where'd you run off to? You smell like a hospital." Vivienne wasn't quite ready to let him go yet.
"I had business to take care of." Sherlock paused. "Why did you leave Florida?"
Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "Why are you having secret rendezvous in hospitals?"
" Touché. Goodnight, Miss Hudson."
Vivienne nodded. "Goodnight, Mr. Holmes."