Chapter 11

"There is a space between man's imagination and man's attainment that can only be traversed by his longing."

-Khalil Gibran

The hospital halls were eerily quiet as three men swiftly made their way through them, a sense of urgency guiding their feet. Lestrade looked very unsettled, which left John even more unnerved. It took a lot to get that man nervous, and whatever was going on had set the Detective Inspector into a bit of a frenzy. John removed his phone from his pocket as soon as they reached the double doors of what he assumed was their destination and sent off a quick text message.

"Where is it?" Sherlock asked sharply, removing his fingers one at a time from his black leather gloves.

"In here," Greg Lestrade instructed, as he pushed the door to the morgue open.

"Has anybody touched it?"

"Well yes, the paramedics probably. And Anderson and his team."

Sherlock scoffed, "Useless. No wonder you had to call me."

John rolled his eyes. Nothing would ever please that man. He followed Sherlock into the morgue, Lestrade leaving to talk with forensics outside. They'd been called not more than a half an hour ago about a potential case, perking Sherlock right up out the strange daze he'd been in for the past week. He'd been quieter, and his complete disinterest in the world around him seemed to have worsened. A feat that John thought was impossible. He never knew Sherlock Holmes could be more introverted than he already was. Whenever John inquired about Sherlock's dour mood, he always got the same response, 'bored'. But sitting around mulling in misery wasn't a normal practice for a bored Sherlock Holmes. He shot holes in the wall, or organized dog hair alphabetically by breed in the bathroom, never did he sit with his hands steepled in front of his mouth for hours on end without even a whine or complaint. It was that last part that really had John stumped. Sherlock hadn't moaned or griped about not having any work to do.

"Hello!" a cheerful female voice greeted from the doorway, her petite blonde head sticking just past the threshold.

Sherlock's eyes darted over to where she stood, his back straightening and eyes growing wide at her unannounced presence. With her entrance he felt a rock drop into his stomach and his chest tighten. But it wasn't in dread or fear, it was excitement. His cheeks grew hot and no doubt red as she walked into the room, a small toothless smile decorating her porcelain face. He swallowed hard, remembering why he was there, dead body, stolen relic. A case, something to put his mind to work with, he was not there to be distracted by some woman in a skirt. Especially not that woman, he'd spent enough time on her already.

"Ah! Ev, nice you could drop by," John greeted, "What's with the outfit?"

"Filling in for a Family Practice physician. She called out sick, I could use the overtime," Ev answered, pulling her lab coat away from her body a bit to reveal knee length skirt and fitted white blouse.

"Well, you look lovely."

"Thank you. Hello Sherlock."

"Hello," Sherlock replied curtly, whipping his phone out of his pocket to research any other deaths recently matching this one.

Nothing. His next move was to try and scrutinize this body, which all the useful evidence had more than likely been cleared off by Anderson and his group of circus monkeys. The idiot's notes would be useless as well, it was no wonder no one could ever figure anything out without help down there. He removed the small magnifying glass from his pocket and began looking at every minute detail of the man's body before him. Ev watched him with a growing fascination. She marveled at the way he moved, so concise and gentle, his eyes darting from right to left back to the middle. She hadn't seen him in a week, not since he left their dinner so abruptly, and she couldn't deny the wave of contentedness that fell over her. She'd spent the last seven days replaying that night over and over in her head until she'd dissected every second of it. From the words he'd spoken to her, his movements, his anger and heartbreak, and then the strange journey to converse with a man warning her to stay away from Sherlock Holmes. She hadn't called Sherlock, or messaged him, even though the phone calls still plagued her phone and at night she could swear she heard footsteps outside her flat. A trick of her anxiety she had come to convince herself.

"Hey freak, Lestrade says you have two more minutes," a harsh woman's tone broke the inner thoughts of all three people standing in the room.

"Don't call him that," Everleigh immediately responded angrily, her eyes shooting to the dark haired woman in the doorway, staring with all the venom she could muster.

Sherlock's eyes shot up just soon enough to see the glaring contest between the two women. Ellie stood with her arms crossed tightly across her chest, shoulder's back and he could just make out how her jaw clenched and twitched. Sally Donovan on the other hand had a coy grin plastered on her smug face, a laugh pulling at the corners of her mouth. She thought she knew everything, she was infallible in her own mind. She hated Sherlock with a burning passion, and that feeling was mutual. She wasn't good at her job and she always insisted upon throwing her obsolete opinions around for the world to hear. Her and Anderson were a perfect fit for one another, if only Anderson's wife knew…

"You must not know him too well yet. He's nothing but a freak and a psychopath," Sally added, looking amused.

"He's not," Ev spat, taking a threatening step forward.

There was no hiding the fire in her tone. Sherlock kept his eyes locked on her as he felt a growing sense of pride. It was a rare event, someone defending him, someone caring about his image and quite possibly his feelings, which of course he didn't have; he never expected it from her. She barely knew him, there were facts about him that would make her cringe yet there she stood, fierce and steady footed, ready to fight. With one last mocking laugh, Sally Donovan left the three alone in the room.
"What's her problem?" Everleigh asked, turning back towards John and Sherlock.

"She's always like that, she doesn't like Sherlock. Which I couldn't imagine why," John answered, raising an eyebrow to Sherlock who scoffed and continued his investigation, "Sherlock likes to constantly remind her, and another staff member at the Yard, that he knows what they do after hours. Isn't that right, Sherlock?"

"They shouldn't be so obvious about it," Sherlock replied as he turned the victims hand over before skimming his magnifying glass over the palm.

"She's a horrid woman," Ev commented.

Both Sherlock and John laughed at her blatant and very true comment. Sherlock couldn't deny he'd truly begun to like this woman. She was flawed, a little odd but she was genuine, and that was a rare thing to find nowadays.

"Oh, Ev, I wanted to ask you. We have a Christmas Party every year at our flat, on Christmas Eve. We wanted to invite you," John told her, looking back at Sherlock who seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

"Oh, yeah, that would be great," Ev accepted, a warm smiling breaking out on her face.

"Great, yeah, good."

"Well, I have to get back to work, shift's almost over and I have a little bit of paperwork to do. I'll, see you two next week then. 221B Baker Street right?"

"That's the one."

"Nice seeing you both!"

With a small wave Ev left the morgue and walked back up to the Family Practice offices on the third floor, the flutter of nerves roaring to life at the thought of spending an evening in the company of Sherlock Holmes.

"Yes, hello, I need to speak Dr. Braxton please," Sherlock politely asked the Family Practice receptionist in the most charming voice he could muster.

"I'm sorry sir, she isn't seeing anymore patients today," the woman responded impatiently, her eyes not leaving her computer screen.

"I'm not a patient."

"Oh? Then who are you?"

"A friend, of a friends."

"Friend of a friend? Well, then ask your friend, to talk to their friend, and then, you'll be able to talk to her."

This girl was insufferable. Between her rude, patronizing tone and unwillingness to help him, he felt his anger growing. He reached into the window and grabbed the phone from its receiver and glared hard at the now terrified girl in front of him.

"Dial her office number," he demanded in a low and threatening voice.

The girl did as she was instructed, pushing her chair back from the desk as she stared at him fearfully.

"Ellie, hello, it's Sherlock. I need to speak with you," Sherlock greeted, pushing his anger at the insolent girl before him from his voice.

"Ok, come on back, last door on the left," Ev instructed, her voice chiming like bells even over the phone.

Sherlock placed the phone back where it belonged and bore his hard grey eyes into its owners, "That wasn't so difficult."

The girl shook her head at him before Sherlock opened the door and walked down the hall to the last office on the left. Her door was open and she sat in her desk chair, her lab coat draped over the back of it, leaving her just in her skirt and blouse. He felt his body tense as he took in the sight of her, her shirt hugging her in all the right places, her skirt pushed up a little past her knees, he'd never felt anything quite like what he felt in that second. There was a tugging in his lower abdomen and his face felt flush.

"Hello!" she greeted happily, getting up from her chair and standing only inches away from him, "What'd you need to talk to me about? I'm just on my way out."

"I wanted to check if you were getting any more phone calls or packages. I hadn't heard anything from you," he asked, watching as she donned her coat and scarf.

"I have actually. Didn't want to bother you. I have my phone records in my car if you'd like to walk out with me I can give them to you. Just printed them off today."

Sherlock nodded once, which she responded to with a smile. He followed her silently though the halls of the hospital, through the cold night air and into the parking garage where they stopped just beside her small blue sedan. She opened the passenger door and bent down to reach for something inside, giving Sherlock a rather good view of her backside. His eyes went directly down to exactly where he knew they should not, lingering only for a moment before he cleared his throat and averted his eyes a little too conspicuously. His head turned from side to side as he tried to look at anything and coincidentally everything else his eyes could possibly find.

"Are you all right?" she asked, looking at him so innocently through the corners of her eyes.

"Yes. Fine," he responded quickly and with a guilt-ridden voice, coaxing a small mischievous grin from the woman in front of him.

"Here you go. Those are from a few days before they started up until, this morning."

"Thank you."

Just as she was about to bid him goodbye, a buzzing from inside her pocket stopped every train of thought they had. Their eyes met, Sherlock's filled with anticipation and a little bit of thrill, hoping this could lead them one step closer to figuring out the mystery, while Everleigh's weighed down with fear. She pulled the phone from her pocket and sighed at the familiar BLOCKED NUMBER that greeted her.

"Answer it," Sherlock demanded, his senses heightening.

"What? No! Who knows who's on the other end?" Ev shouted back, her voice showing her true terror.

"It'll help me solve it. Answer the phone."

Everleigh swallowed hard, feeling the hard lump of dread that had balled up there blocking her throat. She must be crazy to be answering this, but Sherlock was right, maybe this could help him solve it.

She slid her thumb against screen and tapped speaker, "Hello?"

Sherlock's eyes grew wide, his head craned down to be closer to the phone in her hand but they were met with silence. Not even he could hear so much as a faint rustling on the other end.

"Hello? Who's there?" Sherlock spoke loudly and clearly, his frustration growing, "Answer me!"

"Tell us where he is," an altered voice sounded from the other line, whoever it belonged to didn't want his true voice to be heard.

"What are you talking about? Where who is?"

"She knows. Tell us where he is."

"I don't know what you're talking about! Who?" Ev yelled, her voice breaking, from beside Sherlock.

She hadn't noticed how she'd come to stand so close to him, their shoulders now practically touching. The phone beeped twice, signaling the call being dropped. Sherlock looked over to Everleigh standing beside him. He knew it. She was hiding something. She had to be. The look on her face was pure terror and he felt a terrible pity for her, but he needed an answer. She was scared beyond her wits. Her breath was coming out in little gasps, her hands clutched up against her chest.

"What are they talking about? Who are they looking for?" he asked her, placing a hand roughly on her shoulder shaking her from her terrified trance.

"I don't know. I really don't, I swear," she pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears.
"You must have some idea. What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing! I promise! I have no idea."

He sighed. At least for the moment she was of no more use. His grip loosened on her shoulder but he left it lingering. He remembered how her soft, fleeting touches had helped him at times like this and he wondered if maybe him reciprocating that action would do the same for her. Her head bowed as the tears began to fall freely; this had all been far too much to take. She felt Sherlock standing beside her, and his warm hand still lightly atop her shoulder. He'd gone quiet, his lips pursed and his eyes focused on the ground, he looked rather unsure of himself. She liked the way his hand felt on her, it was large and covered her entire shoulder and then some, but it was warm and reassuring. Her body trembled in fear as her tears racked through her and without even thinking, she turned into the man beside her and placed her head softly against his chest.

His entire body tensed as her forehead came to gently rest against the right side of his chest. This felt very odd, but not wrong. His hand wound from one of her shoulders to the other, wrapping her in light embrace. He felt the pressure of her head against his body, a few stray hairs flying in the wind and brushing against his jaw and for the first time since he could remember, he felt something. The vacant hole in his chest where his heart should be seemed to swell, suddenly bulging with raw emotion and warm fluttering movements. The foreign emotions coursed their way through his veins, opening locked doors, releasing emotions he'd trained himself never to feel. And this he knew, would be his undoing. This was never supposed to happen, not to him.

Her head lifted as she realized the awkward position she'd forced him into. She wanted to stay like that with him forever, she felt safe, guarded from both the hazards of the outside world, and from herself. His eyes were locked in front of him, but he did not seem to be dreading this contact as much as she assumed he would. In fact, he seemed rather content. His face took on that almost boyish appearance, like when she'd seen him those rare times that he'd let his hard mask melt away, and at that an overwhelming sense of happiness washed over her. Once he'd realized she'd pulled herself from his chest he let his arm fall quickly back to his side, placing both hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, before he nodded a goodbye and turned on his heels to leave.

"I'll see you next week, Sherlock!" she yelled after him, a small smile pulling at her lips.

A/N: Sorry about the last half of this one. It's terribly written, I'm so sorry. I've been deathly sick but I wanted, well needed, to get this out to you guys. The next one is just about finished it'll be out on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day night, just depending on what we end up doing and how soon I kick this virus. It is a Christmas chapter! I know that there's only one Christmas in the actual series but I said screw it and made another one =) Thanks for all the follows/favorite/reviews (gilgal185, Taylorriley17, of-thieves-and-liars, and the lovely guest) you guys are amazing and have no idea how much they mean! I can't believe that almost 60 people want to read this story on a regular basis, which just blows me away seriously! Love you guys! And if you haven't seen The Hobbit DoS yet, do it! IT'S INCREDIBLE!