𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

23: Moving Forwards against the Tide

Three weeks later

***

John and Sherlock were in the living room downstairs. Sherlock was playing his violin, the melody carrying upstairs into my room. John was no doubt on his blog writing up the recent case if the incessant typing noise was anything to go by. He'd told us a few days earlier what he'd decided to call the case. He'd settled on titling it 'A Study In Pink'. Sherlock had criticized the title but I stood by John and insisted that it was fitting. After all, there was a lot of pink.

I was bored. Earlier, I had gone upstairs, excusing myself by saying that I was tired. Now, I was sitting on the end of my bed. My supply of cocaine is now well and truly empty. I lay back on the bed and sighed blissfully. Time went by much quicker after that. Sometime after 6 o'clock, I trudged downstairs into the living room.

"Where's John?" I asked, looking around. Sherlock glanced up at me from his laptop.

"He's gone out on a date," he said.

"I collapsed into one of the seats and let out a sigh. I heard Sherlock close his computer and come and stand near me. I cracked one eyelid open.

"Yes?" I murmured. I saw him glaring at me.

"What did you take?" he snapped. I rolled my eyes.

"Who are you, my dad?" I groaned, closing my eyes again.

"You are high."

I snorted.

"Yeah, you'd know," I said.

"What did you take?" he snapped.

"I just took cocaine. Happy now?" I asked. He frowned.

"No not really," he remarked, analysing me.

"Don't be a hypocrite Sherlock, it does not suit you," I retorted, folding my arms.

"How did you get into drugs?" he asked. I frowned. This sociopath didn't understand personal questions.

"Didn't your momma tell you to not ask personal questions?" I asked.

Sherlock gripped my arm.

"Tell me!" he insisted. I seethed at the demand.

"Hey Sherlock, tell me all about your childhood trauma. Tell me why Mycroft is overly protective of you. Tell me why you feel lonely. Tell me why-" Sherlock cut me off.

I pulled my arm free and I crossed into the kitchen, where I made myself a cup of coffee. I heard Sherlock begin to play his violin, making sharp angry notes float around the room. I listened to it for a little while, choosing to remain in the kitchen.

When Sherlock went into his bedroom, I snuck into the living room and I picked up his violin, tucking it under my chin and picking up the bow. Granted, I was out of practice, but I think I did a good job of composing as I went along. I lost myself in the music, playing for what seemed like ages. When I finally stopped and checked my watch, I found that I had been playing for nearly two hours.

"I didn't know that you could play," came a quiet baritone voice from behind me. I jumped and whirled around, holding the bow of the violin like a sword. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Remind me to not scare you when you are around lethal weapons," he smirked.

"Music is a weapon in the war against unhappiness," I quoted. Sherlock just looked at me.

I flushed. Silently, I handed him back his bow and violin, my face burning. With all the dignity I could muster, I slowly climbed the stairs back into my room.

I placed my coffee on my desk and fired up my computer. I skipped checking my client list, not trusting that Mycroft was still keeping an eye on me, his threat still lingering in my mind. I opened a search engine and googled Sherlock Holmes, wondering if I could glean anything else about the man.

My phone buzzed suddenly.

I missed you - JM

I sat there frozen, staring at the text.

30 seconds later my phone rang from an unknown number. Gingerly, I answered it. "Hello?" I heard calm breathing on the other end.

"Alexandria How've you been," came the familiar Irish accent. I closed my eyes, listening to a voice I had not heard in over two years.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure? I mean, faking your death can be quite taxing on your health."

My mouth went dry as I opened and closed it, unsure as to what I should say to a man who may or may not want to kill me.

So I took the coward's way out and hung up the phone, throwing it onto the bed.

Sebastian must have told him then. I smiled ruefully.

Instead of sitting there worrying. I quickly sent a text. I pulled on my shoes before grabbing my keys and wallet and heading downstairs. As I opened the door to the house, Mrs Hudson came bustling up to me.

"Oh hello Alexandria, how are you?" she asked kindly. I smiled warmly at her. "I'm fine Mrs Hudson, I'm just going for a walk," I said, gesturing vaguely outside.

"Oh okay then dearie, nice weather for it," she said, before going back into her flat.

As I stepped outside, I looked around for anything suspicious. There was nothing. As far as I could tell, I didn't have anyone tailing me. I walked down the street with my hands in my pockets and headed toward the designated meeting point. At that moment, my phone vibrated.

I'm here, where are you? _SM

I'm 5 minutes away_AN

I crossed the road and walked to the riverside, where I saw Sebastian, hidden in plain sight.

"Sebastian," I called. He turned around, a wry smile on his face.

"How've you been Moron?" I asked. He remained silent. I frowned, he must be really worried, as he usually snaps at me for calling him that.

"I got a call from Moriarty an hour ago. So he knows now that I'm alive," I said, putting my hands in my pockets in an attempt to warm my numb fingers.

" Moriarty went batshit when I told him."

"That's the psychopath for you Sebastian," I said, my breath fogging up in the cold.

"Irene doesn't know yet, but she will soon."

I groaned." I think I'll avoid her for now, since she will probably want to murder me imaginatively when she does find out," I said. Sebastian chuckled, but then looked around apprehensively.

"What did you call me here for that you couldn't text me for?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I need information, something I can't get for myself. Sebastian cocked his head, questioning.

I swallowed nervously, wondering whether I should rethink my decision. No. I had to do this, that much was certain. I no longer wanted to be kept in the dark about my past. Things were coming to light, and there is a bigger picture that I am not seeing.

"What is it?" Sebastian asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, Sebastian, you are not going to like what I'm going to ask of you."