Chapter 23

The next few months passed in a sort of daze. All of Erika, Mary and John's attention seemed to be focused on the upcoming wedding. Sherlock, however, was doing everything he could to distance himself from it. Despite his attempts, he was weak to Erika, and so it came to be that two weeks before the wedding, the four of them were moving all the boxes out of Erika's room.

John and Sherlock were carrying the contents of the room outside, each of their arms was filled with boxes, some piled up so high they couldn't really see. They took them out to where Mary's car and the two women were waiting to pack them in tightly to the small car. Every time Sherlock walked out, his eyes met Erika's in a dark I-can't-believe-you-made-me-do-this glare and every time Erika just smirked and took the boxes off him.

This long process continued for over an hour before both of the men came out carrying triumphantly little. John bounded out, a grin on his face, and put the boxes down on the ground. "The room's all clear except for the bed. You should see it, it's gorgeous."

Without further ado he wrapped his arm around Mary's waist and led her inside. Erika smiled after them and proceeded to pack the last of the boxes away. Sherlock stood watching, leaning against the car with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. With every box she lifted, her eyes got a little sadder, as she knew what she was really packing away. With the last box squeezed into the car, she shut the doors and leant back against the car beside him, exhausted.

"You can bring it back you know," Sherlock said and Erika turned to look at him. He motioned to the contents of the car. "You can bring it all back here. You're not packing it away for good."

"Yes I am. I can't bring it all back here," she answered with a sigh. Sherlock stood up straight and looked at her, bemused. She smiled sadly. "Mary had this idea, which is great I suppose. She said I should rent to room out for functions and weddings because of its…she said unusual look."

"And you're going to?"

"Well, I don't have a job Sherlock," she said, leaning forward. "And it's not like I 'm likely to be employed by anyone anytime soon. And I promised you years ago I'd stop my thieving ways, something I've kept to, so I don't have much choice."

"I've got money."

"I don't want to have to rely on you."

"Mycroft can-"

"Sherlock." The way she said his name stopped him mid-sentence. She stood up and pressed a hand to his cheek. "I want to do this. Like I said before, leave the hurt behind."

He nodded and Erika smiled widely. He leant down to kiss her but before he could a voice came from the doorway. "Erika, Mary wants permission to photograph the room."

She pulled away from Sherlock with a laugh as he pouted. "Tell her to go for her life."

"Thanks," John said as he disappeared back into the house. Erika grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him towards the building. They walked in and saw Mary lying on the ground in the centre of the room with her camera on her stomach. She was idly pressing the button, occasionally lifting it to look at what she had taken. John stood chuckling in the corner of the room, well out of her way. Erika smirked and her inner urge to cause trouble took over.

Without thinking, she quietly walked over to Mary who was too distracted to notice her. Then, without warning, she cartwheeled over her and her camera. Mary let out a shriek of surprised before breaking down into laughter. Erika stood a metre or so away and was laughing just as hard. Mary quickly went to her play back before roaring with laughter. "Now there's one for the album!"

She turned to camera around and showed Erika who grinned widely. She then turned the display to John who let out a very unmanly giggle. Sherlock stood in the doorway, watching the entire spectacle with an amused smirk on his face. Erika motioned for him to come over and he did. With him standing beside her, and Mary beside John, the four looked around the room, impressed with their days work. Then John raised a pointing hand. "What do you want us to do with the bed?"

They all turned to look at the sad piece of furniture sitting desolate in the corner. Erika detached herself from Sherlock and walked over to it, sitting on its starchy blanket. She ran the material between her fingers briefly before looking up to find three pairs of eyes fixed on her. She shook her head, as if shaking off an unwanted thought, and spoke. "I'm not sure. It won't fit in Mary's car."

"It might if we dismantle it?" Mary suggested and Erika gripped the fabric tightly and went white. Sherlock was the first to pick up on this and quickly rushed to her side. She looked up at him beside her and shook her head again; still trying to remove thoughts from her head but Sherlock wouldn't stand for it. He stared at her, as did the rest of the room, and finally she caved.

"I spent so long here, alone in the dark. I can't explain it but…I just can't…I can't break it."

"Then we won't," Sherlock said solemnly, looking to the rooms other occupants. They nodded in agreement and she let her grip loosen a little. "We'll find some other way to move it."

Erika nodded and regained some of her colour. They talked for a minute before compromising, agreeing to partially dismantle it, only enough to fit it in the car and nothing more. Erika slowly pulled it apart, insisting she be the only one who touched it, before it became three smaller parts and was packed into the car. Mary and John drove it back to 221B whilst Erika and Sherlock decided to walk back. They didn't touch each other or speak the entire way.

When they arrived, they found John, Mary and Mrs Hudson at the entrance, all taking the boxes out of the car and piling them up at the bottom of the stairs. As they approached, Mary gave them a wave and pointed to the back seat. "The bed's in there. I haven't touched it."

"Thanks." Erika walked over and slowly pulled out the pieces of her bed. She felt sick even handling them pulled apart but she knew that she had too. Slowly, she carried them inside, up the stairs and into Sherlock bedroom where she assembled it quickly in a corner. Once it was back in one piece, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders and she smiled. She ran her hand over the familiar beams and turned to walk out, only to find a consulting detective standing obnoxiously in the doorframe.

"What's so special about that bed?"

"It was mine for a long time."

"No, that's too simple," he said, walking forward until he was looming over her. "What's really important about it?"

Erika chocked back a gasp at the force in his words before coming back to reality and answering slowly. "My Dad made it for me when I was seven. He said he'd make me a bigger one when I was seventeen but…"

The pain in her words made Sherlock regret even asking. He wrapped his arms around he and she rested her head on his chest. She smiled a little at the warmth and let out a sad sigh. "I told you that room was everything I had left of them. I wasn't lying, Sherlock."

"I know," he answered softly before lifting her chin and planting a soft kiss on her lips. "All your things are in the living room which you can put where ever you like, be it the back of the cupboard or on the mantelpiece."

"Thank-you, Sherlock." They walked out and found Mary, John and Mrs Hudson having a cup of tea at the table. Erika smiled and sat down next to them where Mary pushed a cup of tea in front of her. She smiled and looked around the table to see Mrs Hudson beaming at her.

"I can't tell you how happy I am for you boys," the old woman said with a smile. "John's getting married to a gorgeous young woman and Sherlock's found someone who can clear the table faster than he can mess it up."

There was laughter around the table, even a small chuckle from Sherlock. John raised his mug in the air with a smile. "To tomorrow?"

"To forever," Mary said with a smile, clicking her mug against his.

"To forever," Erika echoed, looking at Sherlock who smiled back at her as they all cheers-ed.

"Forever."