A/N- Just an FYI I changed a tiny bit in the last chapter if you're a continuing and not a brand new reader, just the time of the Christmas event in this chapter since I did some more digging into the script...
Huge chapter: 4,306 approx. Wow... This hasn't been edited either...
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Darcy's POV
Christmas Eve was tomorrow and then the day after that was Christmas Day. Not that that meant anything to me, I wouldn't be doing anything special nor would Sherlock. Unless Santa got murdered.
I'd barely left Sherlock's room for the past couple of days and I didn't intend to today either, especially with everyone coming over this evening. Mrs Hudson was already sat in the living room with Sherlock and John.
The others would more than likely be arriving soon. Great.
Scott had been gone almost three weeks now. He kept up the consistent texting and phone calls but there weren't as many. Which I was glad for, since my phone wasn't going off every half an hour or so.
I'd raided Sherlock's bookcase for suitable reading material to keep me entertained in the solitude I'd put myself in. I always asked Sherlock if he wanted to sleep here and I'd take the sofa. But most of the time he declined, which only meant I spent more time separated.
I preferred it this way for now. I needed to keep distant otherwise, who knew what I'd be capable of doing to them? I could snap and hurt one of them.
Currently I was sat reading 'The Island of Dr Moreau' by H. G. Wells, I was quite surprised to find it in Sherlock's collection since it's science fiction. But with the topic of science and vivisection, I shouldn't have been that surprised.
I was engrossed in the supposed science behind Dr Moreau's work. So engrossed in fact that I hadn't even noticed the time pass by, people arrive and three messages come through on my phone.
Scott- I've just had a goat burger. Tasted weird if I'm being honest. X
Scott- Look at what you've resorted me to... texting you about meat. X
The other wasn't from Scott though and I wasn't sure what to make of it.
Kate- In case I get too drunk and forget... Merry Christmas, Darcy. xx
Whether she was being nice or had an ulterior motive, that possibly had something to do with Irene I didn't know. But I didn't see how it could be anything other than her being nice since she was just wishing me a Merry Christmas as we had gotten close before I left.
So, put down my book and typed in a reply to Kate.
Me- Thank you, Kate. Merry Christmas to you too xx
But I left Scott's messages unanswered as usual, since they weren't all that relevant nor did I want to answer them.
The voices of the people who'd arrived for the get together grew louder and I knew more had arrived. I could distinctly hear Lestrade's voice and a woman's I didn't know.
It must have been John's girlfriend... Jeanell?
In an attempt to block them out, I picked my book up again and continued to read. I was sat up with my back against the headboard, still dressed in my now normal jogging bottoms and t-shirt.
They were comfy and I wasn't complaining.
Over the muffled voices in there I could here Sherlock playing 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' on his violin and I couldn't help but smile.
It was then that my stomach decided to rumble very loudly and I remembered I hadn't eaten since breakfast. Even then I'd only had toast and tea. Nothing too substantial.
More loud voices from the living room meant someone else had arrived, no doubt it was Molly, and I tried to ignore my growing hunger.
So, despite me not actually wanting to leave this room I felt it necessary to leave and eat than to not and starve. I closed my book and left it on the bed, heading for the door.
Slowly, I opened it and closed it quietly behind me as everyone talked amongst each other. My plan was to sneak into the kitchen and make a sandwich without anyone spotting me.
I carefully walked along the hallway and managed to get into the kitchen safely. I looked around for the ingredients I could make food with but only found mince pies and cake.
It was better than nothing.
"First time ever, she's cleaned up her act. She's off the booze." I heard John say and I knew he was talking about his sister.
At his statement I couldn't help but let out a snigger and instantly made my presence known to all of the guests.
"Ah, there she is!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed and made her way, albeit shakily, into the kitchen to greet me.
Quickly, I grabbed a mince pie and tried to hurry away back into Sherlock's bedroom to avoid socialising. But I wasn't quick enough and Mrs Hudson turned me around, then pulled me in for a hug.
I awkwardly put my arms around her and still held my mince pie in one hand. I grasped onto it for dear life since I was so hungry.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." Mrs Hudson cooed as she continued to hold me.
I glanced over at John with a confused expression and he replied by miming drinking. Oh, so she was a bit tipsy that explained it.
When she finally let go, I smiled and turned to go back into Sherlock's bedroom. But Mrs Hudson grabbed hold of my wrist, of my empty hand, and started to pull me towards the living room.
No, no, no. I wanted to pull away from her, run back into the safety of my hovel but I didn't want to upset Mrs Hudson. As she stood with me in the doorway to the living room, I glanced around at everyone anxiously.
"Hello, stranger." Lestrade greeted as he emerged from the kitchen, no doubt after refilling his drink. I took a bite of my mince pie as he put a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.
I swallowed the mouthful of pie I had and smiled, giving him a slight wave as Mrs Hudson let go of me. "Hello."
"You're looking rather pale." Molly stated from where she was stood in the middle of the room and I noticed a lot of bags nearby, they were her presents for people no doubt.
I took another bite of pie and put the leftovers down on a tray on a coffee table. All the while I finished eating and then answered, "It's probably just a lack of direct sunlight."
"She hasn't left the flat in days, Molly." John told her and I glared over at him. He was sat on the arm of his chair with a dark skinned woman sitting in it, that was probably... Jennifer?
Mrs Hudson clapped her hands together once and ventured into the middle of the living room. "Whilst we've got her here, how about we give Darcy her presents?"
"My what?" I asked as Mrs Hudson moved the client chair into it's usual place in the room, in front of the fireplace. Molly reached into one of her bags and held something wrapped in red paper. "Guys, you really shouldn't have." I stated as Mrs Hudson patted the seat of the chair.
As everyone watched me, well except Sherlock who was sat on his laptop, I felt like I had no choice. I fought back a groan and wandered over to the chair, sitting down as almost everyone took to sitting or standing around me.
I'd never gotten real Christmas presents before so this was a completely new experience for me. I went from not wanting to talk to anyone today to being the centre of attention.
Nervously, I put my hands between my legs as everyone got comfortable. "Sherlock, come on. Join in." Mrs Hudson practically ordered.
"I'm perfectly fine where I am, Mrs Hudson." He stated and continued typing on the laptop.
"No, sit with us. It's Darcy's first real Christmas." Mrs Hudson demanded him and I felt my cheeks redden slightly, out of embarrassment.
Sherlock huffed and pushed away from the table, then dropped into his armchair. I shot him a quick smile and he rolled his eyes at having to sit through this.
"Here, you might as well open mine first." Lestrade said and held out a small wrapped item.
I smiled and took the little parcel from him. "Thank you... Greg." I said, making sure I purposefully remembered his first name. Upon unwrapping the gift I found it was a police badge key-ring.
Typical Lestrade.
I held up the key-ring to show everyone, John and Molly laughed quietly while Sherlock tutted and shook his head. "Thanks, but, I don't have any keys." I chuckled and put the key-ring on the coffee table.
"You can put it on a bag." Lestrade shrugged and took a swig of his drink.
Molly then held out her red wrapped present. "Mine next, I think you'll like it."
I took it from her grasp and it was soft, it was obviously something material. I opened it up quickly to find a navy blue scarf that looked very similar to Sherlock's.
"I thought it'd be cute if you were matching." Molly said excitedly and I smiled widely up at her, immediately wrapping the scarf around my neck.
"Why would we want to be matching? And why would it be cute?" Sherlock scoffed and frowned at everyone who looked at him.
Molly's mouth dropped open and she stuttered, "Well, you know because- because you, well-"
"We solve crimes together, or used to, right Molly?" I answered for her and fiddled with the end of my scarf.
Molly nodded furiously and smiled, mouthing a thank you to her. When I looked back around Mrs Hudson was holding out a wrapped box.
"It's not much but it's just a little something." She told me as I took the present from her. When I unwrapped it I was looking down at a tin box of biscuits.
I beamed and removed the last of the wrapping paper. "I'll bring these down one afternoon and we'll have tea." I said excitedly and put them on the table. "Thank you, Mrs Hudson."
"You're welcome, dear." She gushed and sat back in her seat, pleased I liked her gift.
"Right, I guess that leaves me then." John said and went over to a shelf, taking out another squishy looking present.
He gave it to me and I unwrapped it eagerly. I laughed as I held up a dark grey woollen jumper. "I love it, thank you John." I pulled it close to me and felt the fabric.
"Jeanette picked it out, actually." John replied, putting a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder and she reached up to hold it lovingly.
Ah, Jeanette. So that was her name.
I smiled at her. "Well, thank you Jeanette."
Sherlock scoffed again and I turned to glare at him. He rolled his eyes and stood, walking away. I felt slightly disheartened as he hadn't gotten me anything but then I knew he wouldn't have.
He was Sherlock after all.
"Oh, I just remembered!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed and rushed out the flat, then down the stairs.
I sat there, still smiling and felt extremely happy with my first proper Christmas. "Thank you, I really don't deserve all of this."
Everyone mumbled a lot of things like, 'Don't be silly' and 'You do'. But it didn't actually make me feel like I deserved this kindness any more than I had before.
So, I simply smiled and looked down at the ground. I would wait a couple more minutes and then go back into Sherlock's room to finish my book.
"Here. This is for you." Sherlock's monotone voice said and I looked up to see him stood in front of me. In his hand he was holding out a red gift bag.
I frowned and took it from him. "Thank you?" He merely mumbled something and sat back in his seat. As I opened the bag I kept glancing at Sherlock sceptically but smiled as I took out a single book that was inside.
"Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde? But I thought you didn't like these sort of science fiction, horror books?" I asked as I turned the book over to read over the blurb.
Sherlock shrugged with a slight smile on his face. "I don't, no. I cant stand them, the science is completely inaccurate in places."
"So, why?" I gestured to the book in my hand.
He smirked and waved a hand in the direction of his bookcase. "Did you think I wouldn't notice my copy of The Island of Dr Moreau that's been missing for almost a week. How many times must you have read it by now?"
"Well, about twice today..." I mumbled and smiled shyly, putting the book on the table. "Thank you, Sherlock." But behind those three words I think he knew I wasn't just thankful for the present but everything he'd done for me recently, so he quirked a smile of his own.
"I can't believe I almost forgot about this." Mrs Hudson announced as she returned from her flat, holding in her hands a large black present box with red ribbon and a large bow on top. "It was delivered this morning."
Everyone gave her confused looks as she moved through them and put the present on the end of the coffee table in front of me. When I didn't jump for joy and get excited to open it, Mrs Hudson looked somewhat disappointed.
"Aren't you going to open it?" She asked, trying to sound excited still.
I glanced around at everyone, who were watching me expectantly. I had no idea who it might be from. Aside from the people in this room the only other people I knew who'd buy me a present were Mycroft or Scott, if it were Scott I'd have gotten a text or a phone call by now.
Speaking of phone calls he was about two hours late for his daily attempt to contact me.
So, anxiously I turned over the tag the was resting on top. No doubt Mrs Hudson had read it and so was excited to see my reaction at who the mysterious sender was.
But when I saw the writing on there and who it was from my breath hitched in my throat. I sat there staring at the tag in my hand as if it might explode.
"Darcy? What is it? Who's it from?" I heard John ask but I didn't answer.
To Darcy
Merry Christmas!
All my love, Dad xxx
It wasn't my real Dad, he was dead. Very dead.
"Mrs Hudson?" I said shakily and let go of the tag. She hummed in reply and I looked up at her, worriedly. "Who delivered this?"
Sensing my unease, Sherlock sat forward in his seat and John itched closer. Mrs Hudson crossed her arms and moved about on her feet. "Oh, I don't know..." She sighed and put a hand to her head as she tried to remember.
"Think!" I practically shouted at her and she jumped, as did Molly and even Lestrade did at my sudden outburst. "What was he wearing? What colour was his hair? How tall was he?"
"Urm, he was very tall, smartly dressed... a black suit I think..." Mrs Hudson answered as she started to remember. "...very short hair, blonde..."
I sat forward and inspected the box, glancing up at Mrs Hudson frequently as I did. "Anything else about him? Any small detail that could tell me exactly who he was?"
"I'm sorry... I don't know..." She answered meekly and flinched a I banged my fist lightly on the table.
I picked the box up and felt the weight of it, then turned it round to examine all the side and then the top.
Rather Light. No Hand Marks- Other Than Mrs Hudson's. He Wore Gloves.
"Darcy?" John's concerned voice pulled me from my inspection. I glared over at him and gave the box a little shake, listening to the sound of it's contents.
Nothing Heavy Nor Bulky Inside. No Mechanical Objects- Not A Bomb.
"Oh!" Mrs Hudson gasped and I looked up, putting the box back on the table. "He had a scar on his eyebrow, quite big." With her hands she showed me exactly where it would have been on him.
I clenched my jaw and said softly, "Sebastian Moran."
"One of the names in your phone." Sherlock stated and I nodded slowly. "Is he dangerous?"
"Very." I answered quietly and ripped the tag off the box, handing it over to Sherlock and he read it intently. "He's playing with me. Moriarty. He likes to watch me dance, to watch me struggle and work out the truth."
Sherlock said nothing and handed the tag over to John, who read it and passed it over to Lestrade who looked extremely confused with the whole thing. Molly did too when she read it but they didn't know how involved I was with Moriarty's side of the game.
"So, Moriarty is he your-?" Lestrade started to ask.
"No." I cut him off and didn't take my gaze off the box in front of me. I decided it was time to find out what it was and pulled at the bow on top, unravelling the ribbon wrapped around the box.
Carefully, I lifted the lid and placed it on the floor beside me. I peered inside to see very familiar material and a written note on top.
I think these belong to you.
Dress how you want, not how Irene Adler told you to.
I put the note to one side and lifted up the material to see it was my jacket. My jacket, the one he took from me those months ago at the pool. The one I scrounged money to buy and that made me complete.
A bit excessive since it was just a jacket, but it practically defined me for most of my teenage years.
With a smile on my face I put it on and hugged it close to me. "He gave it back." I said more to myself than anyone. He said it was because he wanted me to dress normally, like the way I used to, but secretly I knew it was because I was always wearing Scott's jacket.
And he hated that.
"Now you really are matching." Molly commented and everyone turned their attention to her. I looked down to see I was wearing a long coat and blue scarf, just like Sherlock. Feeling embarrassed I took the scarf off and smile at Sherlock, who stared straight ahead obviously in deep thought about something.
With a sigh I put my hands into the jacket's deep pockets, only to find there was something in one of them. A little black box, with a red ribbon that matched the large box. Again, carefully I opened it up.
Inside was the necklace my Mum gave to me. I thought he'd thrown it away. I'd given up thinking I'd ever get either of these items back and yet here they were.
Damn him and his stupid game.
Well, I was done playing. I'd had enough. I'd take everything I'd learnt, everything I'd been trained to do and use it against him. He doesn't have any control over me anymore. I'm here, at Baker Street. I'm alive, I'm safe and I knew Sherlock and John would protect me at all costs.
Through all my thoughts I hadn't realised I'd sat back down and closed the small box in my hand. Sherlock was staring right at me and looked as if he'd been trying to get my attention for a while.
"What does it mean? Darcy, hello?" He asked me, sounding rather angry as he pressed me for information.
I thought about my answer briefly. What did it mean? Was it over? Had I played my part? Was I done? Was he done with me? That's what it felt like, to me. "I think... for now, it's over... for me. The game. I don't think I'm a pawn anymore. How long that will last, I don't know. Perhaps he thought I'd come back..." I mused to myself more than anyone.
A ghost of a smile appeared on my lips as the others looked on at me, shocked at my attitude towards the whole thing.
"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked, sounding somewhat desperate.
I nodded and met his eyes, reassuringly. "Yeah... but, you'll all, you know, look out for me right?"
John stood from his seat and put a hand on my back. "Always." He gave my shoulder a squeeze before walking into the kitchen. Sherlock patted my knee and went back over to his laptop. Lestrade raised his glass slightly and Molly smiled widely, genuinely just looking happy to be here.
The conversation picked back up when John returned and they started talking about whimsical nonsense that I wasn't interested in but I stayed regardless. I hung my coat on the coat rack with the others, I made sure to put it on the hook next to Scott's and took the necklace from the pocket.
As I clasped it around my neck, my phone rang from Sherlock's bedroom and I glanced at a nearby clock. Two and a half hours late. That wasn't like Scott at all.
I was glad for the distraction though as Sherlock started to get frustrated with the conversation and everyone still being here. "I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him."
As Molly asked what he was on about, sounding very confused, I took the opportunity to leave the room. I couldn't bear to see Sherlock upset Molly, as much as I used to enjoy deducting people and not caring what they thought I liked Molly. She was nice.
On the bedside table in Sherlock's room my phone was still ringing. By now Scott had given up and hung up. I reached a hand out and considered for a moment actually answering it.
But when I picked it up the ringing stopped. Left on the screen then was one message. One that was equally cryptic as it was unexpected.
Goodbye, Darcy.
-IA
I sat down on Sherlock's bed, trying to work out what that could possibly mean. The only thought that came to mind was that she was dead. But that couldn't be true, could it?
After the initial shock of the text, and one of Scott's many messages coming through, I went back into the living room.
Scott- Yjou;re verrry prewtyy xxxx
Oh dear, the boy was drunk. Very drunk. In fact I was quite surprised at how mild his drunk text actually was, I imagined it could have been a whole lot worse.
But that wasn't important right now. As... cute as what he was saying was, it was him drunk texting and probably didn't mean anything more than that.
When I properly entered the living room, Sherlock was taking something off the mantelpiece. "'Scuse me." He said and started making his way over to the kitchen with what looked like a bright red, small gift box.
"What- what's up Sherlock?" John asked after him.
As Sherlock passed me, in the doorway to the living room, I also asked him, "What's that Sherlock?"
"I said excuse me." Was all he said in reply and practically forced me out of his way. In shock, I took a step backwards and almost collided with the wall behind me.
"D'you ever reply?" John called after Sherlock and he sounded rather annoyed.
As soon as Sherlock pushed his bedroom door almost closed behind him I turned to the others, Molly was stood looking a bit shaken and upset.
Coffee Table- Present, For Sherlock From Molly. Wrapped Beautifully. Oh.
"I've missed something, haven't I?" I commented and stepped further into the room. Molly let out a laugh and took a large sip of her drink, her hand shaking slightly as she did.
John stood from his chair with a sigh. "I should probably check on him." I followed him as he headed for Sherlock's room.
We stood in the open door and listened in. Sherlock was talking on the phone to someone, John gave me a questioning look and I shrugged.
"No, I mean you're going to find her dead." Sherlock said down the phone and for some reason I didn't feel that upset by it, I at least expected to have felt something at hearing that news.
I was only guessing who he was talking about but spotting the camera phone on the bed next to Sherlock gave me the answer straight away.
"You okay?" John asked him and Sherlock turned too face us both. I smiled sympathetically at him.
All he did was stand up but instead of leaving the room he shut the door and answered simply, "Yes."
I glanced at my phone in my hand. So that's what her text meant. There was a hint of sadness somewhere that I felt about her death but remembering what she did to me removed most of that feeling.
"And you?" I heard John say and I looked up to see him stood in front of me still, his hands on his hips.
"Me? I'm good, yeah, good." I answered with a smile, throwing my phone in the air a bit and then catching it.
And I was. I genuinely was. Because, for now, it was over. Moriarty wouldn't completely stop until he'd finished his game but I could breath easy knowing I had a rest bite period.
For now.
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Thoughts? I left out the bit with Molly because the second hand embarrassment was just too much, but I'm sure you all know what happened XD
It felt bizarre writing about Christmas in this hot weather... I'm way too warm and yet writing about Christmassy things...
Huge thanks to Ariane DeVere on Live Journal for writing the script for Sherlock, literally she's a god send XD
Please vote and comment, thank you ;)
-HBH xxxx
Disclaimer- I don't own any of the characters, except Darcy and Scott, or any lines from the show. Those rights belong to the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.