Karolyn takes a deep breath and walks up to the door.
The front door opens downstairs.
"I'm home!" Karolyn's voice calls.
"Up here!" Sherlock calls back. She walks up the steps and smiles at the sight at John and Mary.
"Hi guys!" she says, hugging John, then Mary. She pulls away. "I'm gonna go change into my pajamas; be right back." She walks off to her bedroom and shuts the door.
"Oh, lord." Sherlock says, sitting in his chair.
"Sherlock, don't freak out." Mary says.
"I'm not freaking out." he says, but her and John both know that he's lying.
"She's nearly 15, Sherlock, and she's one of the best people I know, and I know you think so too." John says. "It was only a matter of time before boys began to notice." Sherlock groans.
Karolyn walks into the lounge in her pajamas and is cleaning her glasses on her t-shirt. She puts them on and sits down on the couch.
"Uh… I'm actually glad you guys are all here." she says. "Something really weird has been happening lately."
"Weird?" Mary asks. "Weird how?"
"Weird… like… physically. With me." she replies.
"What's wrong?" John asks.
"Well… it's kinda hard for me to say."
"It's alright, Karolyn, take your time." Sherlock tells her and she nods.
"I… uh… I think my panic attacks are getting worse." she admits. "They're starting up again."
When Karolyn first moved into Baker Street, all three of them had been lounging around the flat, watching the telly, when a program came on. A character on the program began having an intense panic attack, and Karolyn tensed and winced at every gasp for air.
"Karolyn?" John asked when he saw how uncomfortable she looked. Sherlock looked at her then back at the telly, carelessly, but then snapped his gaze back towards the trembling girl on the sofa next to him.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Just…"
The woman began sobbing and Karolyn put her head in her hands, covering her ears.
"Can you turn it off?" she begged. "Please?"
John immediately jumped to his feet and shut off. Karolyn's breathing became shallow, and she tried to slow it before either of the noticed, but both of them already had.
"Are you alright?" he asked, repeating Sherlock's previous question, who was just staring, uselessly, in shock at the sight of the normally upbeat girl that was curling into herself.
"Tri-"
She tried to speak, but the lump in her throat made it nearly impossible.
"Trigger." she managed to choke out, and John understood immediately.
"Are you having a panic attack?" he asked, and Sherlock cast a surprised gaze at him, then back down at Karolyn, awaiting her response. She nodded so slightly, that John wasn't sure if it was a nod or a violent tremble. Feeling as though he may not have seen it, she nodded again, a bit more furiously this time. He kneeled down in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Breathe, Karolyn. The key is to breathe."
That was when Sherlock and John learned of Karolyn's panic attacks. Originally, she had hoped she would be able to hide them, but eventually she realized that her plan would inevitably fail.
"They had stopped?" Mary asks, and Karolyn shakes her head.
"No, they never stopped, just… became less frequent." she replies. "Only happened when I was really stressed or really angry or really confused. Now…"
"Now…?" Sherlock probes, and she sighs.
"Now they're back to happening for no reason." she finishes, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Sherlock sighs, standing. "I'm sorry."
"What?" he asks, looking down at her.
"I said I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Why?"
"You and I both know how I am when I have a panic attack." she replies, and suddenly Sherlock understands.
"That's why you do it."
"Do what?" John asks.
"When the topic of Karolyn's anxiety comes up around you, just you, does she ever apologize afterwards?" Sherlock asks, looking at him.
"No, why?"
"Have you ever noticed that she only apologizes about her anxiety when I'm around?"
Karolyn continues avoiding all eyes.
"I have, actually."
"Why?" He asks, and John thinks.
"Explain." He tells Sherlock.
"She apologizes because she thinks that her panic attacks make her 'useless'." he explains, putting air-quotes around the last word. Mary, feeling that this seems very private, stands up.
"I'm going to go and see if Mrs. Hudson has any biscuits." she says, and she walks down the stairs. John and Sherlock both look at Karolyn.
"Do you really believe that?" John asks. She shifts uncomfortably, still staring at the ground. "Your anxiety doesn't make you useless, Karolyn; nothing does, because you're not useless."
Sherlock sits down on the coffee table, right in front of her.
"Fear is wisdom in the face of danger." he says. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"He's right, Karolyn." he says. "You're anything but useless." She continues to avoid looking at them. "I dunno where you concocted that idea from, but-"
"I didn't concoct it." she says finally. "My… my dad did." Sherlock and John stay silent. Karolyn barely talks about her father, if ever. "When he was… doing what he would do… he used to yell. He would… he would say these things; these… these awful things. He would call me these terrible things. And I couldn't stop him. Try as I might, I could never stop him. If I tried to fight back, he'd just hurt me more. It was always the same. He told me how useless I am. He told me how pathetic and disgusting and disgraceful I am. I was the absolute bane of his existence." She sniffs, wiping a few tears.
"But none of what he said is true, Karolyn." John tells her, tearing slightly himself. "It never was."
Karolyn chuckles, thinking what he says is ridiculous.
"That's what they all say." she says. "Every last doctor, therapist, foster parent, social worker; they all say the same thing. But I never believe them. I still don't. And I don't believe you, John. I really want to, but I don't. I just… I can't."
"Why not?" Sherlock asks quietly.
"It's hard-wired in my brain to believe every single thing he said." she replies. "Do you know how hard it is to just ignore that kind of abuse? Eventually, I gave up, and I had to believe him. It's not easy to just suddenly go against years of that."
Sherlock sighs.
"You've got to try, Karolyn." he tells her. "Believing things like that will cause pain; a kind of pain that's extremely difficult to deal with." Karolyn looks up at them for the first time.
"I can't do it alone."
"You won't have to." he says.
"We're here for you, love." John says, and she looks up at him.
"I know."
****
2 DAYS LATER
"I'll find your sister, Clara."
The client, Clara, nods tearfully, and her friend, Dave, nods along with her. Sherlock hears the door open and close downstairs, and Karolyn walks into the flat.
"Sherlock, I'm…" She sees Clara and Dave. "Damn. Sorry."
"For what?" Sherlock asks.
"I'm interrupting, aren't I?"
"No, we've just finished." Clara says, and Sherlock notices Dave staring at Karolyn. "It's alright. I'm Clara." She puts a hand out, and Karolyn shakes it.
"Karolyn."
"I know." Clara says, sounding excited. "I've seen you in the papers. You're a topic of interest, in my house."
"Am I?"
"Dave over here finds you fascinating." Clara says, and Dave smiles slightly, but it's a futile attempt to mask a smirk.
"I was a child prodigy, myself." he says, standing up.
"I'm hardly a prodigy." she says, and Dave walks up, standing very close to her. She looks up at him, a slightly confused look on her face.
"Give yourself some credit, love." he says. She mentally facepalms when she notices the… tented front of his pants.
"Sherlock, don't we have to get going?" she asks, not breaking eye contact with the man in front of her.
"What?" Sherlock asks.
"We have to meet Lestrade, remember?" she says, looking at him and giving him a look. He catches on.
"Ah, yes, we do."
"Lestrade?" Clara asks, and Karolyn walks past Dave, walking over to the desk.
"Detective Inspector down at Scotland Yard." she explains. She pulls open the drawer.
"Oh, are you solving another murder?" Clara asks excitedly.
"Hardly." Karolyn replies.
"Well, what've you got? If you don't mind me asking."
Karolyn pulls out her gun, holding it up so they see it, and she makes eye contact with Dave.
"Pedophile crackdown." she says. "Kicking some perverted ass." She loads a magazine into the gun, and clicks it into place. "Lovely meeting you, Dave."
He turns white as a sheet and runs out of the flat, a confused Clara hot on his heels. When they're gone, Karolyn rolls her eyes.
"Moron."
She pulls the drawer open again, throwing the gun into it, then slams it shut.
"Good thing, too." she says. "I was counting on his idiocy to prevent him from recognizing a blank magazine." Sherlock just stares in shock, and she looks at him. "What, did you actually think I'd show him a loaded gun? I'm not an idiot, Sherlock. If it isn't loaded, it isn't a threat."
Sherlock chuckles.
"Brilliant." he says, and she smiles.
"Thanks." she says. "Uh… I meant to talk to you."
"About?" he asks, taking a seat in his chair.
"The dinner party this weekend."
"Ah, the one for your estranged Aunt, no?"
"She's not estranged, Sherlock, just… there was a lot of tension when she told the social workers she didn't want to take me in."
"They asked her?" he asks, shocked, looking at her.
"Yes."
"And she flat-out said no?"
"Yes." She replies. "I thought you knew this already."
"I thought she just didn't regard the fact you were in the system, I never knew she neglected to care altogether."
"It's fine, Sherlock."
"Is it?"
"Yes, it is." She says flatly. "It's just awkward, but I'm not angry."
"Why not?"
"I have my reasons."
"Which are?"
"I would never have met you." she replies, and he doesn't say anything. "If she had taken me in, I would be living in Yorkshire, and I wouldn't have been living in London, so you never would've saved me, and I never would've met you."
"Yes, but you don't wish things were different?" he asks, curiously.
"Nope."
"Ever?"
She thinks a moment.
"Sometimes I wish my mom was still alive." she admits. "But, besides that, I wouldn't change anything."
"Nothing?"
"Not a thing." she replies firmly, and they smile slightly at each other.
"Anyways, what did you want to talk about with the party?"
"Well, have you got a tux?"
"I've a suit."
"You need a tux, Sherlock, it's gonna be fancy as hell. My Aunt is like… a traveling, female Jay Gatsby."
"Who?"
Karolyn gives him a look.
"Jay Gatsby? From 'The Great Gatsby'?"
"'The Great Gatsby'?"
"The… book? By F. Scott Fitzgerald?"
He shrugs.
"Are you seriously trying to tell me you never read 'The Great Gatsby'?"
"Read it? I've never even heard of it."
"But you must have! It's a classic!"
"I've maybe heard of it before; probably deleted it."
"Right." she says. "Can't have classic literature taking up space in that mind palace of yours, eh?"
"So I need a tux?" he asks, changing the subject back to the previous conversation.
"Definitely."
"Have you got a dress?" he asks, and she nods.
"Molly and I went shopping a little while back."
"Can I see it?"
"You'll see it when we go to the party." she replies, and Sherlock sighs. "You'll need a tie."
"I've got a tie."
"Tie clip?"
He closes his mouth, knowing that's the one thing he doesn't have.
"I… uh…"
"You're lucky I'm good, Sherlock." she says, taking a box from her bag and throwing it to him. He looks at the clip inside. "I wasn't sure if you would want a plain one or not, but this one was really nice, so… I figured… why not?" He stares at it. "It doesn't have too much of a design, so it's not that bad, whether you wanted plain or designed, either way." He looks at her. "I kept the receipt, just in case you wanna exchange it. I figured it was the least I could do, considering you're letting me drag you along to this thing. I know it's not super special, but-"
She gets cut off by a hug.
"It's perfect, Karolyn." He says. "Thank you." She smiles and hugs him back.
"My pleasure." she says, and he pulls away.
"What will you do with your hair?" He asks, and she shrugs.
"Dunno." she replies. "Maybe just straighten it."
"I've already spoken with Mary, she'll take you to get it done on Saturday morning." he tells her, and she smiles.
"Thanks."
"I assume you'll be getting your nails done?"
Karolyn raises her eyebrows.
"I will."
"Toes too?"
"Don't need to."
"Why not?"
"Closed-toe shoes."
"Ah."
"What is this sudden interest in my appearance?" she asks.
"Oh, nothing."
"Sherlock." she warns, and he sighs.
"I've just… I've never seen you in party-wear." he says.
"And?"
"And… I can't wait to see how great you'll look." he replies, and her eyes widen ever so slightly.
"Oh." she says.
"I apologize if that seems a bit odd."
"No, no, not at all." she says. "I get it. I'm not exactly known for putting much effort into how I look. It'll be nice to see it, for a change. Change can be fun."
"I suppose." he says, and she smiles.
"We'll do a big reveal, I promise." she tells him, and he grins.