Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 118
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
Snog is to kiss enthusiastically.
Uni short for University.
Love to all.
"I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O
God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!"
~William Shakespeare Othello
Present Day
When John walked into the kitchen, they were sitting at the table talking. Sherlock was on the internet on his phone. He nodded as Irene gave numbers and codes.
A cup of tea was already in front of an empty chair. John now dressed in a patterned jumper and trousers, wordlessly nodded thanks, then took his seat.
Both finished their sentence then looked toward John. Irene was smiling. Sherlock had a concerned look on his face.
"Tea still hot? You were in there for a while." Irene said with a smile. "Do you like it hot John; I like it hot… tea that is. I could… come… over there and heat it up for you."
John cleared his throat to rid himself of a little tea that had gone down the wrong way. "It's fine, thanks."
Sherlock ignored them both still searching his phone.
"So," John said trying to steer the subject, "How did you manage to get in here with Mycroft's man outside?"
Both stopped what they were doing and gave John the "Don't be an idiot" stare.
"Ok," John said quietly holding up one hand.
Sherlock resumed his search, on the internet as Irene quietly watched. Her smile faded and mood dramatically changed, as she glanced at Sherlock hands and saw the almost faded discolorations that looked like bruises from handcuffs.
She studied him now.
There was a bruise on his jaw but that seemed new.
She noticed the faintest hints of an old fading facial bruise. She also noticed the way he held his body, a little stiff even now.
He had been badly injured then, of course. Her suspicions were right.
He was probably in a hospital in a coma or ventilator somewhere during the time she could not reach him.
In addition, the misspell text warning to her were probably texted from his hospital bed when he became conscious using a borrowed phone. She, at first, did not know that the text was from Sherlock, because she did not recognize the number.
John frowned slightly noticing the shift in her mood but said nothing.
She turned away embarrassed and blinked back tears.
This last year with Sherlock coming in and out of her life had changed her, not completely but enough that it scared her.
She had never been weak or vulnerable; but cold and calculating, a born survivor.
Irene smoothly got up and walked slightly to the back of Sherlock watching him a she sipped on her tea.
Now she was running around the world doing … good… when did that happen. On top of everything, Sherlock was determined to get himself killed for a bunch of average minded morons, which could not on their best day match she and Sherlock's superior minds.
Let them die, or be killed, or get blown to hell, what does that have to do with them, with her, she wondered with anger.
In addition, damn it, she was even fond of John!
The embarrassing tears persisted.
Sherlock was close, so why not she thought. I am hurting, and pain loves company after all.
She wiped discreetly at her eyes and put on her mask. She then walked back to the table and faced Sherlock.
Irene was all business now.
"Why did you not give me up?" Irene asked with a cold smile. "You were obviously tortured, or worse. What exactly did they do to you Mr. Holmes?"
John was shocked by the coldness of her tone.
John put his cup down and anger flashed in his eyes. Did she not realize that Sherlock was not just protecting them but her as well?
Would she even care?
John thought to himself about how wrong he was, to have thought that she had changed, just a little.
"Sherlock, would you like me to go?" John asked.
John wanted to stay and support Sherlock, but thought he should ask.
"Stay John," Sherlock said with a small forced smile, appreciative of John's gesture.
Sherlock raised himself up, and looked Adler up and down once he walked over to where she was.
"Do you really want to know Mrs. Adler? Would you like to know the details or the general description of events?" Sherlock's voice was surprisingly level and soothing, even gentle.
She rose to her full height, which even in heals was still a foot shorter that Sherlock. "Why didn't you at least give me up, you owe me nothing." She spat out with less venom, she façade breaking.
Sherlock looked at Adler, searching her. She could not maintain eye contact during Sherlock's scrutiny. She broke and looked away from his eyes down to the floor.
"I would have given you up," Adler stated weakly, "without a thought in fact."
"You are lying," Sherlock said simply, as he tilted her chin upward so that her face was no longer looking down but her eyes stared into his blue gray orbs. Sherlock showed no embarrassment that John was there.
Sherlock held one of her hands in his, his other hand remained under her chin.
"Why?" He seemed be asking himself rather than asking her. He searched both her face and his own mind.
Sherlock inhaled and held a breath; then his body stilled as realization came to him. Irene simple stared back surrendering.
"John," Sherlock's said, his eyes never left Adler's.
John knowing Sherlock was ok gave them space.
"I think I'll get a little more sleep, be back in an hour." John started walking away.
"Two hours," Sherlock said simply.
John walked away with a raised eyebrow and glanced back.
Maybe, he had better make it three.
A/N: update as soon as possible. Love to all. Please comment.