Chapter 6- Looks Like I've Finally Changed...

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"How are you, dear?" She asked and ran a finger down the side of my face somewhat comfortingly.

I clenched my jaw and answered through gritted teeth, "How do you think?"

She cooed and frowned, "Oh, and I had some food ready for you. Well, if you're going to be stubborn I can save it for tomorrow." I watched as Irene stood and went to walk away.

"Wait!" I called after her and she turned with a smirk on her face, I lowered my gaze to the floor and said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"What was that?" She tilted her head as if she hadn't heard but I knew very well that she had.

I raised my head and glared straight up at her, "I'm. Sorry."

"For?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

My glare just hardened and I shook my head, "For being stubborn."

Irene smirked and took a confident step towards me again, "And?"

I frowned and thought about it before shrugging pathetically, "I don't know."

"For failing and forcing me to do this to you, from this time and now on." Irene clarified with a stern look and my eyes widened as she added, "And for breaking rule one." She leant close to my face and reiterated harshly, "For apologising."

I shook my head, this woman wasn't in her right mind, and then cleared my throat before nodding slowly. Irene pushed herself away from me and went about untying the straps around my legs, "However." She stated and glanced up at me before continuing, "You did better in here than I thought you would."

Feeling the freedom of my legs, I stretched them out and sighed in relief, "Thank you."

Irene moved onto releasing my hands and added, "You're most definitely not out of the woods yet." She smirked down at me and I frowned up at her as the last of my hands was freed, I kept that look on my face as I rubbed my wrists that were most definitely red and sore.

From the look on her face, it told me everything I didn't want to know. There was more to come, more training, more lessons and more... torture.

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May 30. And John was typing on his laptop with Sherlock stood at the other side of the table with his red dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, nonchalantly flicking through a newspaper and sipping from a mug of tea.

Two weeks had been and gone since Sherlock and John had talked about Darcy, neither wanting to bring up the tense subject again.

"What are you typing?" Sherlock asked, sounding bored.

"Blog." John answered simply and carried on typing.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "About?"

John sighed, "Us."

"All of us?" Sherlock just kept throwing questions at him.

He just rolled his eyes and stopped typing, "Don't bring this up again."

"Well, you mean me then." Sherlock countered and took a sip from his mug.

"Why?" John shook his head and went back to typing but faster out of annoyance.

Sherlock shrugged, "Well, you're typing a lot."  The doorbell rang and that could only mean one thing. Client. Sherlock took a breath and put his mug down, "Right then."

John watched as Sherlock walked towards the door and commented, "So, what have we got?"

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