"So, let me get this straight. When you were seven years old you ran away from your neighbors care, got yourself to London all by yourself, and you stayed with the two suspects for a week?" Block asked incredulously, staring at Felicity. They were sitting in an interrogation room down at Scotland Yard at a cool metal table. Block was leaning over, trying to engage Felicity in the conversation. Felicity was sitting up so stiffly she looked to be made of ice as she sat perfectly still, her dark, angry eyes fixed on Block's face. She had very quickly and very acerbically described her past with Sherlock and John, trying to make it clear to this idiot that Sherlock and John weren't suspects and that there was no kidnapping for him to investigate.
"They aren't suspects." The words lashed out of Felicity's mouth so fast, Block almost didn't catch them. He stared at her for a moment before rubbing his face. She was the most unforgiving and intimidating person he'd ever met and she was just a kid. She'd frightened most of the staff at the Yard, given a thorough verbal lashing to another CPS agent, and her eyes were so menacing that they gave him the shivers. She was so cold and so obviously smarter than you that it made you uncomfortable.
"The Yard is working with CPS right now to clear the two of them of any wrongdoing. Until they are cleared, they are still suspects. You might know this, but we don't." He reminded her firmly, and the unmoving form of Felicity stared back at him. Her gaze was starting to make him slightly nervous; did she ever blink? "While the investigation is still ongoing, you will remain here under my care. When all the loose ends are wrapped up, I will escort you back to…Ruth's Academy for Young Ladies." He said, shifting paperwork to find the name of the school. Despite this girl's attitude, he felt sorry for her. There was much more that remained to be explained to her, and he didn't want to be the one to do it.
"Why?" Felicity was suddenly leaning forward, her hands pressed to the table as her eyes devoured his image, trying to find a clue that didn't exist. "Why is CPS involved? If this was any other case, any normal case of abduction, only the local police would be involved. When their investigation led them to London, they would inform the Yard, not you. Why are you here?" She demanded. CPS was usually called when there was suspicion of abuse or significant danger to a child's life. Because neither of those conditions were present here, what was going on?
"I'm afraid I'm not the one to disclose that information. When this investigation ends, you will meet with other agents who explain the situation to you. Until then, you will remain in my custody." Block said, meeting her gaze without flinching. Felicity made a frustrated noise, standing up and pacing along the back wall of the interrogation room. Block said nothing, letting her pace anxiously until she finally settled down on the floor cross-legged, closing her eyes. She was instantly in her mind-skyscraper, free from the stress and emotion that was slowly crushing her. In the skyscraper, she was free to think. She silently ran through a recitation in her brain (the anatomy of nerve cells) to calm herself, but it didn't work as well as she'd hoped. Depression and fear were lurking, waiting for Felicity to slip up. She really, really didn't want to return to Ruth's Academy. Now that she'd been given a taste of freedom she didn't want to go back ever, ever again. She was tired of bottling herself up, tired of constantly being hated by everyone around her. In London, people understood her quirks, her nature, her genius, and Felicity was sure that if that were to go away, she wouldn't be able to handle two more years at Ruth's until Charley's deployment was over.
Finally, after about three hours, a man with graying hair, a slightly tanned face, and tired eyes stuck his head around the door. At his entrance, Felicity knew exactly who he was. She stood instantly. "You must be Detective Inspector Lestrade. I've heard a lot about you from Sherlock." She said plainly, and Lestrade blinked.
"Yeah, that's me. It's good to meet you, Felicity." He said, and shook her hand when she politely offered it. "The representative is here," he told Block, suddenly looking more tired than before. His reaction made her stomach twist.
"I'm assuming that Sherlock and John have been cleared of any wrongdoing?" She asked Lestrade as she followed him out into the hall, Block close behind.
"Yeah. This was just a big misunderstanding. His brother helped a lot, to be honest with you." Lestrade babbled a bit nervously as they walked out into a large bullpen area. Officers were working in cubicles busily, phones rang, and coffee pots gurgled. "Through there, in the conference room." Lestrade directed Block, seeing that Mycroft was waiting for the DI in front of his office, tapping his umbrella against the floor impatiently.
"Thanks for all your help, Greg." Block said quickly before following his young charge as she started out without him. Felicity's heart had flown into her throat at the sight of Mycroft standing there. As soon as he'd laid eyes on her his expression had changed. Her mind put together the pieces and presented her with the most logical answer as to what was happening, but her heart fought the idea down, hoping, begging, pleading, that for once she was wrong. Block opened the door for her, and Felicity walked into the conference room.
OoOoOoO
Less than five minutes later, Sherlock and John found themselves in front of the DI's office with the man himself, as well as Mycroft. As they walked up, they noticed how Lestrade and Mycroft were watching the door to the conference room, talking quietly. "Where is Felicity?" Sherlock fired off at once, ignoring evidence as his heart got in the way. When Mycroft sent him a look, he phrased a different question. "With whom is she talking?" Sherlock asked, and Lestrade grimaced to the carpet.
"An army representative here on behalf of Charley Muller." Mycroft said tonelessly, his grip on his umbrella tightening. Sherlock stiffened, rotating to look from Mycroft to the conference room, all the facts falling into place.
"What?" John asked, confused, dread building in his gut. He thought he knew what Mycroft meant, but he wasn't sure.
"He's dead, John." Sherlock snarled. "When an investigation for a kidnapping begins, the family is automatically contacted. For a man in the army, special accommodations would have been made, as Mycroft mentioned having to field when he was in our flat. When Charley Muller couldn't be contacted because he was dead, his will would have been sent for and CPS called when it became clear that no other living relatives or guardians existed to be consulted about the kidnapping. Now that it is clear that no such crime existed, a representative for the army has been called in to tell Felicity of her brother's death, a common courtesy, I'm sure." His words kept coming and coming; all of Sherlock's worry and protectiveness poured into every sentence, every syllable. John's eyes widened in shock and horror as Sherlock continued. Charley Muller was dead?
"But- what will happen to Felicity?" John spluttered, turning to Mycroft and Lestrade.
"Mr. Muller's will is being gone over to look for any specific instructions in regards to Felicity's welfare. While that happens, Felicity will stay at Ruth's Academy until her contract ends." Mycroft continued tonelessly.
"No. I won't allow it. That place is poison for her!" Sherlock hissed, running his hands through his hair, trying to think. Sentiment was fogging his brain, making it almost impossible for him to put his brilliant mind to good use. There had to be something he could do, anything to keep Felicity from going back to the Academy.
"And what is supposed to happen after her schooling is done with? Does she become an orphan until she's legally an adult?" John asked, and Lestrade nodded once. John gaped at him, his mind spinning as he tried to come up with answers. The choice he knew that he wanted slammed into his head within seconds. "We'll just adopt her, then." He tried to say it calmly, seriously, but it came out strained. Mycroft blinked at him, surprised by his offer.
"Yes! Brilliant, John. As her legal guardians, we would be able to remove Felicity from the institution she currently attends." Sherlock's head shot up at John's suggestion.
"Sherlock," Mycroft started warningly, but Sherlock cut him off.
"I know what you are going to say, Mycroft. I know that caring is not an advantage; I know that all hearts are broken. I don't care. Felicity is just like you and I. I tried to keep her from the suffering she has gone through in growing up, and I have failed in that regard. Despite that, I will not let a little girl go back to a boarding school that is torture for her directly after the passing of her one and only family member!" Sherlock said in a very low and very dangerous voice. At the mention of a boarding school, Mycroft's expression hardened, making John wonder if Sherlock wasn't the only one who could empathize with Felicity.
"Sherlock, you were just under suspicion of kidnapping her and now you want to adopt her? CPS will take one look at you and laugh you out the door. Even if they would consider you and John for guardians, you'd have to pass inspections on the flat, your job is too dangerous, and you and John are not the ideal people to be in responsible of a foster child." Lestrade picked up where Mycroft had left off, his voice quiet.
"And I might be helpful in legal aspects, but I have very little weight with Child Protection Services, Sherlock. They operate independently from most governmental ties in an effort to better protect the children in their care." Mycroft spoke when Sherlock looked as if he could punch Lestrade.
"I will not stand by and do nothing." Sherlock said firmly.
oOoOoOo
As soon as Felicity had entered the conference room, she felt her heart shatter into millions of pieces. Standing on the other side of the room was a man by the name of Steven Ardent. Felicity knew him well; Charley had written about him in the letters he sent her. The only reason why Steven would be here instead of Charley was if her brother, her rock, her last living relative, was dead.
"Felicity? My name is-" Steven started, but Felicity cut him off so softly it made a lump rise in his throat.
"Steven Ardent," the words somehow made it out of her mouth. It felt like the entire world was slowing, time was shuddering to a halt. Sounds seemed magnified and for the first time in her whole life, Felicity Muller's mind went completely silent. Steven was still clad in his uniform and looked tired- he'd been immediately flown out of Kuwait to break the news to her. He crossed over to Felicity and knelt so he could look up into her face instead of down at it.
"Felicity, I'd know you anywhere. The day our unit was shipped out, everyone on that bus had to watch your brother say goodbye to you. None of us had a whole lot of family or friends to see us off, so watching Charley have to leave behind something so precious made the whole regiment very angry. It was painful to watch Charley write letters to you, and it was worse to see him receiving them. You'd send him so many pictures and be so descriptive about your time in school that all of us felt like you were our little sister." Steven started quietly. Felicity froze at his remarks, face white. "Two days ago we were returning to the base and took enemy fire. Your brother saved a lot of people before he was killed. I speak for the whole regiment when we say that any of us would take his place if that meant that you weren't alone in this world. We've watched you grown up through letters and pictures and we all know how incredibly gifted you are. The unit as a whole would like to offer our deepest condolences and a presence at your brother's funeral." He continued, voice tight with restrained grief.
"Thank you," Felicity whispered. Throughout his entire speech she'd felt numb, broken. Her mind registered what he was saying, but she couldn't make sense of anything. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong and she couldn't comprehend how to fix it. Her brother was dead. Every guise, façade and act Felicity had been putting up since her brother had been deployed were wiped away to reveal the truth- that Felicity was nothing more than a very scared, very lonely twelve year old girl. Without her brother as her foundation, she was completely and utterly lost. Stephen quickly pulled her into a hug, his military bulk swallowing up her bony frame. When he eventually pulled away, Felicity looked dead; her body looked lifeless. Her grief was so strong that her mind had shut down, leaving her as an empty, function-less shell. Her mind was stuck, trying to compute the fact that he was gone.
"I'll walk with you to the car, ok? Then the regiment and I will be there for the funeral." Stephen said, standing up and putting a guiding arm around her shoulders. He caught Block's gaze, who had been standing quietly in the corner the whole time. The CPS agent nodded, opening the door. Stephen guided Felicity out, Block close behind them. As they headed for the lift, footsteps started to follow them.
"Felicity?" Sherlock and John had instantly whirled to watch the door to the conference room when it opened. The emptiness on Felicity's face made Sherlock angry that anyone or anything could ever make her look and feel that way. One thing was certain in his mind; he had to speak with her, even for a few seconds, before she was spirited off to Ruth's. As Sherlock caught up to them, Block turned around and blocked his path. Stephen slowed to a stop, his grip tightening protectively around Felicity as he sized up the tall, furious man in the dark coat. He'd heard about how Felicity had been possibly abducted on his way over, and his screaming guilt and lingering need to protect Felicity automatically put him on edge.
"Sir, you need to stand back." Block said firmly, holding his ground even when Sherlock gave him a vicious glare. Block's hand drifted to his side-arm as a warning; Sherlock needed to give them space, or else.
"I'd like a word with Felicity if you don't mind." Sherlock said in a deadly calm. Felicity was standing motionless under Stephen's arm, having not even turned her head to look at Sherlock. Even though Sherlock could only see her profile, he knew how she really felt just by looking at her. The stillness, the paleness- it all spoke volumes to him. Felicity was so afraid, so grief-stricken, that her brilliant mind had completely shut down. She needed time to grieve, and returning her to Ruth's would only make things worse.
"Miss Muller is being escorted back to school, Mr. Holmes." Block very nearly smirked, his tone making it clear that he wanted to have the last word. Sherlock ignored him.
"Felicity," he called her name quietly, looking past the CPS agent to let his stare unleash itself on Felicity. After a moment she blinked, turning her head a fraction of an inch to look at him. Sherlock said nothing, letting his gaze do the talking. As their eyes met, he sent her a clear message. Stay strong.
"Right, come on then." Block insisted, turning his back on Sherlock. With that direction, Stephen went to guide Felicity along, but she was frozen, staring at Sherlock. A bit of her fear was starting to show as she looked at Sherlock, a silent plea. She knew that she had to go back to Ruth's, at least until things settled down, and she knew that Sherlock could do nothing to help her, not yet; but for once, her heart overruled her head- she didn't think she could handle the institution, the emotion she'd been bottling up, and her brother's death. Above all, Felicity wanted Sherlock and John; she wanted their comfort.
"Come on, Felicity." Stephen muttered, and with increased pressure on her shoulders, Felicity looked away and allowed herself to be walked down the hall and ushered into the lift. As soon as the doors closed, Sherlock whirled, stalking back to Mycroft, John, and Lestrade.
"I need to see that will. Now."
OoOoOoO
A/N: I killed Charley. :( BROWNIE POINTS to TheGirlWhoImagined for guessing correctly! I'm sorry that I killed him but there is much, MUCH more to come so hopefully once the drama and angst passes the fluff will make up for it. This chapter was shorter, and I'm sorry for that, but once I killed Charley I was like...ehhhhh NOPE.
Also, I'm thinking about getting some art commissioned for this story! I think the visual of Sherlock and a little girl would make this story much better. What do you guys think? Anything you'd want to see? Are any of you artists that could draw for me? Let me know!
You reviews are amazing and take heart that if I made you cry you probably made me cry. Tear for a tear?
louisuperwholocked on Tumblr is the best beta ever and I love her, in case you didn't know.
FIN (for now)