Sherlock: A Side Untold

Chapter 7

I woke the next morning exhausted. The first noticeable thing was that Sherlock was gone, the second was that I was late for work.
"Bollocks!" I cursed out loud, rushing around the room. After finally gathering my bearings, I rushed to get a cab. I expected Sherlock to join me, but he probably left earlier. 'Why wouldn't he have woken me up then?' the thought passed through my head. I ignored it and watched the traffic.

I rushed in and apologized for being late, my nightmare had taken more of a toll on me than I thought. I did my rounds and met a new patient. He was 8 and had come in for chest pains. He was the cutest thing and he was very polite. His dark hair and intelligent eyes reminded me of a certain someone.

At around noon I had a break, so I decided to go see if William was in the lab again. I tapped my foot impatiently against the metal floor of the elevator, the humming was the only returning sound. After a short time that lasted forever, it opened. I had an extra skip in my step on my way over, things were starting to look up for me. I stood in the doorframe, knocking on the wall beside.
"Hello," I said, calmly. he said nothing in return, not a movement. He was hunched over a microscope again, with his hands in their usual prayer position.
"Sherlock?"
Again nothing. I walked the full way into the room and stood next to him.
"Sherlock? Is something wrong?"
He then shot up out of his seat and grabbed me harshly by the shoulders, "What's wrong, is that you incompetent, stiflingly moronic people need to leave me alone, especially you. You do nothing but bother me non-stop with your problems! Just shut up for once in your pathetic, insignificant life and listen! Leave. Me. Alone! Did that get my point across?" he shouted, scaring me and probably anyone else down here. My breathing quickened and my nose tingled. Tears streamed but I didn't want him to have the satisfaction. I slapped him, it made a sufficient smack noise and I left. Left the lab, the hospital. I just left. I called my boss in the cab, still in my scrubs, telling her I had a bad case of the flu and left. I went home realizing I left my keys in my locker at work. I did the only thing I promised I wouldn't. I went to see Gerald. He had my goods, the stuff that would get my mind off of the phenomenon that just occurred.

After stumbling away from Geralds's place, into the dark of London, a car pulled up.
"Celine, get in, please" called another Holmes.
"Sod off, wanker" I grumbled, walking my way home.
"I've got the keys from your work. Let me drive you there" he pleaded.
"As long as I don't have to see him" I whispered venomously. He sighed in exasperation but compliance. I wobbled over to the sleek black something or other and slid in on its seats.
"Jeez, Celine. What did you take?" he scolded. I handed him the list I always make and keep on me. In case of, well, if worse comes to worst, the paramedics will know. His eyes scanned it in disbelief.
"God you're worse than him" he rolled his eyes, the car came to a slow halt. I held my hand out for the keys and when he gave them to me, I tried to step out. Instead, I slipped on the concrete and heard a chuckle and a sigh. I went through the mudroom, to my apartment. I locked the door behind me and began to silently sob. I sat on my couch trying to understand all of it but somehow not making sense of a single thing. I was never very completely there when I got high. A knock came at the door. I stared at it for a moment until another knock came.
"It's John, I was hoping we could have a cuppa," he said hopefully. Oh, thank god for John. Sweet and soft John. I opened the door.
"I would love some tea, you could not imagine the day I've had" I chuckled, trying to keep the slurring to a minimum.
"What happened?" the concern in his voice made my day so much better.
"Oh, I don't want to bother you with my problems" I brushed it away. He hugged me. it warmed me to my core. I hugged back and couldn't help the couple of tears that slipped past.
"You sit, I'll make the tea and then you can tell me about it" he kissed the top of my head and pushed me towards the couch. I sat and pulled a blanket around me. Soon after I heard the whistle of the kettle and a shout,
"Green or chamomile?" John's soft voice called from my kitchen.
"Whichever you want" my voice shook a bit. the high was getting stronger, it should've been going away. I was starting to get a little worried but the drugs lulled that. John walked in with two cups and set them on the coffee table, freeing his hands so as to be able to sit on my right. I took a risk and lay back, against him while stretching my legs out. he held me tight and took a deep breath in. after he let it out I began to tell him all about work and how bad it was. When I got to the part about Sherlock he held me tighter and rubbed my arm in a repetitive 'up and down' motion. When I repeated the words back to him, I couldn't help but be angry at myself for trusting him. Or anyone for that matter. I should have never admitted my feelings for him or kissed Mycroft or be here with John. I should just rot for being alive. I was a horrible person. I turned on my side and looked in his eyes, sighing.
"I wish I was good enough for you. You're too pure and I would love to be with you but I'd ruin you. I'm a bad partner" I sat up and dumped the rest of the tea down the drain.
"I have to work in the morning but I will be back here after" he rubbed my shoulders and placed his head on mine. I put my hand on him and he kissed it.
"You'll be safe?, I may or may not have seen your list" he mumbled. I turned to look at him. I smiled, John Watson was going to be the best husband and an even better father. I nodded, placing my hand on his cheek.
"Now go get some rest before you have to get ready for work" I nudged him gently with an ever-growing grin. He kissed my forehead and made his way out. I listened to the door close and every stamp up the stairs. Then I heard something I never knew was possible. John yelled. he was angry and sounded like it.
"You absolute tosser, how could you say those things to Celine? What did she ever do to you, besides being perfectly polite and kind! She is trying so hard to just... to just exists. So what in the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" he sounded out of breath. I heard a much quieter, more muffled voice speak, though I only caught a few words.
"John...experiment...drama queen" it was baritone and low. Sherlock.
"An experiment?! Really? You hurt a bloody wonderful woman for an experiment?!" John shrieked. I sighed, of course, why else would he be interested in knowing me. I heard John stomp to his room and slam the door. I flopped on the couch and let the drugs and alcohol take over, letting my vision go black.

"My dear Celine, I don't mean any of this, I promise"