Sherlock: The Lost Girl

Chapter 3: Bored

Addilyn's POV
The next morning I woke up in a strange bed. Unsure as to what to do I sat up only to feel a sharp pain. All my memories rushed back from the day before and I smile at the thought of Locky.

I got up out of bed and send a quick text telling a "friend" to send some of my clothes round. I walked into the living room and get quite a shock when a gunfire echoed through the house. "Bored". Another gunfire this time at a smiley face painted onto the wall.

"Bored"

Sherlock switched the pistol to his right hand and turned towards the smiley face, firing at it again. He then swung his arm around his back, twisted slightly to his right and fired at the wall from behind his back. It was rather impressive.

He carried on firing until I grabbed the gun and quickly slid the clip out. He kissed my forehead and headed towards the sofa. " Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them."

John was reading a newspaper and barely looked up as Locky threw himself down on the sofa still dressed in his pyjamas. "Didn't you just have the Russian case?"

Sherlock groaned and I couldn't help but silently laugh. "The man was an imbecile. It was a complete waste of my time. Simple domestic murder. How boring and his grammar...don't get me started. It was appalling."

"Oh how terrible." John replied sarcastically. He slowly got up and walked towards the fridge. "I'm hungry anything in." He opened the fridge and quickly shut it. He leaned on the door for a couple seconds before he opened it a second time, a little longer then shut it again. When he finally spoke he sounded very angry.

"Severed head."

I couldn't help but find this amusing but disgusting at the same time. When I looked down at Sherlock he had a huge grin on his face. "Just a tea for me, thanks." I rolled my eyes at him and he suddenly realised something.

"You don't speak." I shook my head agreeing with him. He gestured for me to sit next to him and he handed me a pen and paper. "Why?"

I was trapped in a room on my own for fourteen years I had no need.

He looked at me shocked "I'm s-sorry."

Why?

"I should have known. I should have helped you." I smiled at him and gave him a quick hug.

I didn't want you to know.

He looked at me confused and then made another observation. "If you can't talk how come you can write?"

I have an organisation of sorts I had to keep it going even though I was kidnapped because of it.

Before he said anything else I wrote quickly on the paper and handed it to him.

I'm not telling you Sherlock. I will one day but not now.

He nodded and I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It was the violin I gave him the day I left. I picked it up and noticed that it was slightly worn due to years of playing yet still in perfect condition. I smiled and brought out half a picture from my pocket.

"You kept it." I nodded and he pulled out the other half from his pocket. We both smiled at each other until John broke the silence.