Devil Take The Hindmost •Sequel To Life Is But A Dream•

•A Scandal In Belgravia: Part Ten•

Chapter Ten: Another For The Road

My cheeks itched from tears, and my arms burned against the sleeves.
"Lestrade found you in an alley, out cold and with bleeding arms." John had said the next day. Time passed, and now a month later I haven't said a word to Wyatt. I was too afraid to confront him. The texting turned to calling, then whenever John wasn't home, he'd come knocking at our door. It wasn't hard to convince Sherlock to ignore him either.

I found myself in Molly's lab once more, poking at a brain to get my mind off things, when she came up to me.
"You okay?" She asked. I was silent. "It's been a while since you've been here so..."
"You know me Molly." I said, then went to Sherlock, who was x-raying Irene's phone.
"Is that a phone?" Molly asked him.
"Yes it's a camera phone." Sherlock said quickly.
"And you're x-raying it?" Molly continued as I glanced to them from the other side.

"Yes I am."
"Who's is it? Your girlfriends?"
"You think she's my girlfriend because I'm x-raying her possessions?"
Molly chuckled nervously as she looked to me.
"We all do silly things." She said, glancing back to Sherlock.
"Yes-" Sherlock mumbled, then looked up, the gleam of inspiration in his eyes. "They do, don't they? Very silly."
Her look of confusion was ignored by him as he grabbed Irene's phone.

"She sent this to my address, and she loves to play games." Sherlock stated, and I could only assume he typed 221B into the phone, resulting in a beep of warning from the device.
Of course, there was another code in my head that could work, but I shook it out.

Before I could blink, he was gone, his coat and everything.
"Well that was tedious." Molly chuckled, then went back to work. I sat and stared at the counter, my hands folded and in front of me. A sudden cloud of grief had washed over myself, and all was dark in my mind.
"You okay?" Molly asked again, and I looked up to her as she walked to my side. I couldn't shake the words from New Years out of my head.

"I-I-" I started, but she pulled me into a hug before I could finish. All I could do was weep.
*
It was late in the day when I got back to the flat. The stairs creaked as I rubbed my eyes from fatigue. When I came up to the flat, I saw the woman, Irene Adler standing in their living room, John at a desktop, and Sherlock at the fireplace.
"Am I interrupting something?" I asked, leaning against the threshold.
"Not at all!" Irene exclaimed, then gestured me inside with her wet hair. "Come in darling."

"But Sherlock said you died." I said, pointing to Sherlocks still figure on the other side. I mean, I even saw her the day after Christmas on the slab in the morgue.
"Obviously not." She joked, patting my head. I looked to John who hadn't taken his eyes off me since I walked in, and then to Sherlock, who was muttering something to himself by the fireplace.

After some time, Sherlock sat down with his violin. He was in a haze, completely oblivious to us, the world around him.
"I'm going out." John said, putting on his coat. He glanced to Sherlock, who hadn't heard him, then to me and Irene who sat on the couch.
"Wanna come?" He asked me, then twitched a smile. I shook my head before lowering it, feeling my brain being gnawed away by the terrifying thoughts in my head.

"Darling what's wrong?" Irene asked me. She put her hand on my folded ones, and I notice that they're squeezing each other so tight my knuckles were turning white.
"Nothing." I squeaked.
"That's not true, love." She cooed, then lifted my head up so my eyes sparkled in the dim light of the flat.
"I'm sorry." The woman apologised.

"For what?" I scoffed, turning away from her gaze.
"A broken heart is never easy to mend." She deduced. It's then I release a quiet sob, the back of my hand against my lips to mute the sound. Taking a breath in with my nose, I feel her place an arm around me.
"Especially when it's your first." She added, patting my back.

"What do you know about that? Someone like you..." I said softly.
"I may know what men like, but that doesn't mean they don't know what I like." She paused, and I noticed her gaze at Sherlock in his hypnotic state. "A broken heart is something you can't avoid."

"His name is Wyatt." I told her after a while. Saying his name made me remember sitting in front of Buckingham Palace, when we joked around and he made me laugh. That memory was quickly find as I remembered that wasn't real. How it was an act.
"I don't know what to do." I whispered, my voice empty. "It was just a game. And this must be what it feels like to loose."

"Don't say that honey." Irene advised, then moved me so that she was looking at my wet eyes. "Do what you feel is best. I can say that this isn't where it ends. There's always a light at the end of the tunnel-"

"I have to go." I said, her last statement shaking me. My hands trembled as I stool up and made my way to my room, which I had to face was Johns room. My bed was merely a mattress on the floor in the corner. I looked back to see Irene in Johns chair, looking at Sherlock.

My legs gave way under me and I fell to the soft bed under me. I felt something hard hit my head and looked to see my book. A stem was sticking out of a page, so I opened to it. The dead rose fell out into my lap, flattened by the pressure of the pages. I could see the discolouration of it against my jeans in the dark. Pushing myself back down on my pillow, my hands came to my face. I tried clearing my head, but any attempts failed. It's then I take them off and stare at my trembling arms, covered by my sleeves.