Hey all! Hope you are all enjoying the story so far :) I can't believe I'm at Chapter 11 already! On Thursday I'll be going to England for two weeks, so I won't be updating at all until I get back. I hope this chapter can hold you over until I return, lol. As always, thanks for all the support and love. Here's Chapter 11...
Chapter 11
The cab ride to the crime scene was the very definition of awkward tension. John tried apologizing many times and each time all he got was silence and a raised eyebrow. Sherlock left them to their tedious feud and took to assuming his 'thinking pose' with his hands pressed together under his chin.
Mercifully they pulled up to the scene and John let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. They surveyed the scene then found Lestrade to get the details.
"Ah, Lestrade, you're looking mighty chipper today," Sherlock said. "Had a good morning?"
Lestrade fought the urge to flip Sherlock off. "It was…well I've had better. I'm sure John here knows what I mean."
John scratched behind his head and looked embarrassed.
"And I'm sure none of us had as good of a morning as Addie here. Right?" Lestrade smirked.
"Piss off," Addie said glaring at him.
"Funny choice of words there. Got your brother's email. Costing me quite a bit to clean his car," Lestrade said.
"Bet you're regretting your free drink offer now," Sherlock said.
"Aye, not a good choice on my part. Especially with this one coming along," he said gesturing to Addie. "Did you really wet yourself?"
"Can we just let it die already?" Addie said.
"I mean, I would have thought, as a Holmes, you'd be able to hold your liquor, know your limits. Probably did some kind of experiment with it at one point."
"Hard to know one's limits when you've never had more than a sip of wine in your life," Sherlock replied.
"Good lord! Really? It's a wonder we didn't kill you! Well this changes things now. I tip my hat to you Adelaide Holmes, for being alive after what would have killed someone else of your size and tolerance," Lestrade praised.
"Don't go encouraging bad habits Lestrade," Sherlock said annoyed.
"Can we just get to the case please? Some of us didn't come here to discuss last night," John spoke up.
They all shut up after that and listened to Lestrade brief them on the case.
This case was a hard one. Not because it was difficult per se, but because of the circumstances of it. It hit eerily close to home for Addie and she had to work extra hard to conceal her emotions, which was proving difficult with her still-not-recovered hung over mind.
The victim was a young girl about 17, recently accepted to a nice university, looking to study medicine and one day become a doctor. Now though she was dead and beaten up, her young life squashed along with her innocence and dreams.
She had her whole life ahead of her and instead she was cold and lifeless, leaving nothing behind but a few school books and stifled potential.
As they were filled in on the specifics of what must have been an extremely violent death, it took everything Addie had not to run from the room and never look back. John shot her a funny look when she visibly recoiled at seeing the body.
Sherlock was already off on his deductions, talking about her hobbies based on her clothing and how she worked at the local fish and chips restaurant because of the chip and oil remnants on her fingers.
"Anything to add?" she heard a voice say next to her.
Sherlock was giving her a calculating look and a raised eyebrow. Addie shook herself out of her trance and cleared her throat a few times.
"Umm, she was planning on attending medical school and training to be a doctor. She was…young…innocent, and no doubt ambitious to take on such a career. Willing to make sacrifices…even if it meant putting her life on hold a bit," Addie said seemingly lost in thought. "She could have been great. Guess we'll never know now, will we?"
All three men were looking at her strangely and their puzzled and…sympathetic expressions were unnerving. She straightened with dignity and poise before moving on.
"She also had a jealous ex-boyfriend who no doubt had easy access to her house and her window. I'd start with him," she said.
They were still looking at her when she finished her deduction and she just couldn't take their intense staring any longer. The room was suddenly stifling and the sight of the beaten and bruised girl was making her sick.
She muttered, "Excuse me," before taking her leave as quickly as possible. She nearly ran to the street before she threw up what little she'd eaten that day. She sunk down against the brick wall next to the house breathing heavily and sweating profusely. She wiped her eyes, using the excuse that it was the sweat that got into them, and worked on slowing her erratic heartbeat.
Ten minutes later John, Lestrade, and Sherlock walked out of the house and over to her. By now she was completely composed and stoic besides looking a touch paler and more tired.
"You alright? Look like you saw a ghost in there," Lestrade commented.
In a way, Addie thought, she had, and it scared her more than anything. "Yeah, I'm good. Apparently not over this damn hang-over yet. Still a bit queasy I guess," she lied easily and jokingly.
Lestrade didn't look too convinced but he accepted her excuse anyways. "Well, head on home then. You and Sherlock do your little detective things and give me a ring when you think you're on to something. And you two," he pointed to John and Sherlock, "Make sure she sleeps it off. We need her on all cylinders for the rest of this case." Lestrade bid his goodbyes and walked back in the house.
John wasn't in the least bit convinced by her little story but he learned his lesson about prodding her. He chose silence over being yelled at again.
Sherlock was the most aware of any of them about Addie and what had happened to her at the murder scene. The implications of her reaction and the look he saw in her eyes gave him chills and scared him. Sherlock Holmes never gets scared. Except when it involves those he cares about. Yes, ok. He does care about people. Despite his ramblings about being a sociopath and lacking sentiment, he does have feelings and affections when it comes to those close to him. He, while it seems an impossible feat for him, loves Addie and cares for her deeply. He cares about John, and Mrs. Hudson, and yes even stupid Mycroft. Sherlock has always been aware of these human feelings and emotions and he's always tried to appear as if he was above such things, but he could never, as hard as he tried, get rid of them. It was easier to appear stoic and unattached than attempt to show his affections and express his feelings.
He never was good at comforting or expressing his sympathies. So when Addie stumbled while taking a step, he used that as an opportunity to brace her with his hand and give her shoulder a light squeeze, hoping she'd catch on to his subtle and sorry excuse for comfort.
Addie caught his eye and the corner of her mouth twitched up in a small smile as she let him lead her to the cab.
Hours later they sat in the living room thinking over the case, reading books, checking the evidence, looking over the victim's possessions, and brainstorming.
Addie was holding an anatomy textbook in her hands, leafing through it for the 3rd time and still coming up with nothing.
She was thinking back to her argument with John and feeling guilty about how she reacted. John was just trying to help and he genuinely wanted her to feel better and get it off her chest. She felt she should apologize but apologizing was never really her thing. Thanks to Mycroft and Sherlock for that little detail. She supposed the next best thing to saying sorry for her behavior was to explain it.
"You know when you asked if I wanted to talk?" she began, looking towards John.
John looked up, surprised that she was speaking to him after giving him the silent treatment all day.
"Well, truth is, I don't want to talk about it…or rather, I can't," she said, taking note of Sherlock listening in from his seat at the computer. "I can't talk about it. Not yet. But I'm not going to pretend I'm alright. Because I'm not."
John was still listening and turned to face her and look her in the eyes, giving her his full attention.
"I'm not ok, and I'm not over it. Not in the slightest. But it's something I need to come to terms with myself before I talk about it. I need to figure it out on my own before letting anyone else in. Does that make sense?"
John nodded. "Yes. However, sometimes other people can help you come to terms with certain things. They can act as a healing agent and a support in a lonely and vulnerable place," he said.
"I've never really needed people," she said scoffing and looking away. "I'm just fine on my own. Alone. Alone protects me. Right, Sherlock?"
Sherlock looked thoughtful before going back to facing the laptop screen.
"Now we both know that's not true. I think you need people more than you think you do. In fact, I'd say the thing you need the most is people. People to come alongside you and listen. People to support and be there for you when you need them," John said. "And I can be one of those people. Perhaps the best person. The only one who truly understands."
Addie looked terrified and uncomfortable. But John could see the hope and the gratitude in her eyes as she glanced back down at the worn textbook.
"I just need time," Addie replied.
And there it was. As good of an apology, a thank you, and a 'please help me' as he was going to get from Addie Holmes. He nodded and looked her in the eyes, conveying as much as he possibly could in one look. A look that said 'I'll be here when you're ready,' and 'you're not alone.'
Addie's small smile and misty eyes were all it took for everything to be settled between them. All was forgiven and forgotten and all that remained was a mutual respect and understanding.