Sherlock led her out of the TARDIS, but as soon as they stepped into her front room John shot off the sofa.
"Sherlock, what the bloody-"
The detective stopped him with one look. Rose wasn't in any state to be in the middle of a row and he wouldn't allow anyone to add to her discomfort. Not something he worried over before, but she wasn't just anyone.
She'd be all right, he knew that, because she was strong, stronger than she thought, but she needed time, distance from everyone, and he'd make sure she had that.
He led her across the room, opened the door to her bedroom, and helped her inside. He sat her on her bed, feeling her pulse as he did so. Steady. That was good, but her eyes were haunted and he didn't like that, didn't want to think about what might've happened to her, what she might've gone through, but he needed to know. He couldn't help her if he didn't know.
He crouched down in front of her so he was level with her. She was staring ahead at nothing and the pain in her eyes that haunted look, tore at his heart. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear wanting to fix this, to take it away, but knowing that it would take time for her to heal.
"Would you like anything?" he asked.
"Tea," she mumbled, but it was more of an auto response.
He put his hand over hers, giving it a squeeze, but she didn't look at him.
"I'll be right back."
He stood up and left her room. As soon as he closed the door John was next to him, following him across the room and into the kitchen.
"What happened?" his friend asked.
Sherlock sighed. He was more worried about her than going over the details with John, but he knew his friend wouldn't let this go until he found out what happened.
"We located the clone. I shot him-"
"What?" John interrupted. "You shot him? Why?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes as he felt the kettle, making sure the water was still hot. It was.
"He had a gun, although I would've shot him anyway. She wouldn't be safe as long as he was alive, only, things didn't go as planned."
"What do mean?"
The detective pulled a cup out of the cupboard next to the refrigerator.
"He wasn't the clone."
John eyed him in surprise.
"Sorry…what? You killed someone else?"
"Yes, and no," Sherlock replied, offhandedly, while he poured the water into her cup.
"What the hell does that mean?" John demanded.
"I shot the clone, at least, I thought he was the clone, but he melted."
"Hang on. Melted?"
"According to the Doctor he was Flesh."
"Flesh? What the hell is that?"
"Matter that can be used to replicate a life form."
He added the tea to her cup.
"What?"
"In essence, he was a clone of the clone."
"That…what? Someone cloned the Doctor's clone?"
"Basically."
"Why the hell would anyone do that? I mean, that doesn't even make sense."
"It seems the Doctor has run across this before."
"When?"
"I didn't ask."
"You didn't…Hang on. You mean you didn't ask?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes again. That's what he just said, why was John having such a hard time with it? Yes, it was important, but there were other things, other priorities more important at the time.
"I…was distracted."
"Dis…" John glanced over his shoulder. "Oh. Distracted." Sherlock ignored his friend as he added milk to her tea. "So…is she all right?"
"No, she's not and I don't know what to do," he admitted as he returned the milk to the refrigerator.
"What happened to her?"
"I don't know. I want to ask, but I'm not sure…"
John put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.
"She'll tell you when she's ready."
"But…" he turned to his friend. "What do I do?"
He didn't do these things. These ordinary things. He was so far out of his element that he felt like he was drowning. He wanted to help her, but he had no idea how to go about it. Didn't want to do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and make matters worse for her.
"Be there for her," John replied.
What the hell did that mean?
"How?"
"Sit with her. Let her talk if she wants to. If she doesn't just be there. Don't ask about what happened. When she's ready she'll tell you, until then just let her know you're there."
He picked up her tea and carried it back to her room. Sit with her, let her talk, but only if she wanted to, don't ask about what happened, let her tell him, but only when she was ready. It sounded too complicated. He wasn't sure if he could pull it off, but he opened the door and stepped into her room, closing it behind him so no one else would come wondering in to bother her.
She was sitting exactly how he left her. He sat her tea on the side table next to her and then sat down on the other side of her. He felt uncomfortable, not at all in his element, but he wouldn't leave her on her own, not in the state she was in.
"Thank you," she said, a bit delayed, as if she just realized he'd come in.
Before he knew what he was doing he reached over and took her hand in his. She turned to him, falling into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were still damp, but she wasn't crying. He doubted she had anything left.
"Are you all right?" he asked and then chastised himself in the next moment.
Stupid, stupid question.
"I'm…I'm fine," she replied in that way that told him she was anything, but fine.
"No, you're not," he said, stroking her hair as he leaned his cheek on her head. "But you will be."
"How can you be so sure? I'm not even sure."
"Because you're clever, and strong, even if you are a bit cheeky," he teased.
She chuckled, but it was sad sort of sound. The silence stretched, but not between them. He closed his eyes with his cheek against her hair. Just being there with her.
"I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes.
"You don't need to be sorry. Not with me. Not ever."
"It's just…I know you don't do this, don't…" she trailed off.
He knew she was talking about the ordinary thing. The sitting together, comforting thing.
"You were kidnapped by the clone of an alien who travels in space and time. I'd hardly call that ordinary."
"You know what I mean," she said, making him draw his head back as she leaned hers up to gaze at him.
He looked into her hazel eyes, not as haunted, but still full of pain and something else, something he recognized, something he recently named, but just to himself.
"Perhaps I didn't realize the value of ordinary things," he replied.
A knock on her bedroom door drew their attention, but before either one of them could grant the person entrance the door opened and John poked his head in and then froze.
"I…um…I…" he stammered.
Rose drew away from Sherlock, not hastily, but as if she realized they'd almost crossed a line. He released her, reluctantly, glaring at his friend.
"Yes?" the detective snapped.
"I..um…was going to grab some takeout. Thought I'd ask if either of you…well, if Rose wanted anything in particular." John said, rubbing the back of his neck, nervously.
"I'm not really hungry at the moment," she replied.
"You should eat," Sherlock said.
She glanced at him and then back to John.
"Fish and chips then, I suppose, if you don't mind."
"No, don't mind at all. I'll…um…I'll just go then," he replied before stepping out and closing the door.
Silence stretched between them again, but this one not as comfortable, maybe because she pulled away, maybe for another reason. He couldn't say.
"You should rest," he said, breaking the silence as he stood up.
She shook her head.
"No. I…I'm not tired," she replied, but he could see that was lie.
There was dark circles under her eyes, but in them he could see fear. What the hell had that clone done to her? He crouched down in front of her, catching her eye.
"Yes, you are. You need to rest."
"What if…what if I wake up and I'm back there, with him?"
Her mental state was more fragile than he thought. If Sherlock ever saw James again he wouldn't hesitate to kill him for what he did to her.
He brushed her cheek, cupping her face in his hand.
"I'll be right outside, in the next room. I'm not going anywhere. When you wake up I'll still be here."
She still looked hesitant, but he stood and pulled the blankets back. She scooted under the covers and he tucked her in, brushing her cheek with his finger. She closed her eyes and then he turned, crossing the room to the door. He wasn't sure if she'd actually sleep, but he hoped she would. It was the only way she could regain her strength and begin to heal.
Standard Disclaimer.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers!
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