Lydia felt nothing, her mind numbed with drugs. As she opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, but the surroundings immediately informed her that she was in a hospital. Her lips downturned into a frown as she tried to remember what had happened. She could remember performing, but then getting grabbed by two men. Suddenly the attack on her and Moriarty came flooding back, causing the blood to drain from her face.
She should have been dead, why wasn't she dead? But then she remembered getting carried out of the room, but the only detail she could recall about her savior was their smell. It lingered in her mind, making her head spin even now.
The increase in her heartbeat monitor caused Sherlock to glance up at her, realising that she had finally woken. He breathed out a sigh of relief and took her hand in his, "Lydia? How are you feeling?"
"I-" Lydia cut off as she turned to look at who was speaking, shocked to find Sherlock Holmes by her bedside. Her brain seemed to refuse to work as she took in his sloppy appearance, he hadn't even bothered to change out of his blood soaked dress shirt. Her stomach churned upon realising that it was her blood.
"Lydia?" He asked again, his face contorted into a soft expression of concern, something that Lydia never thought she'd see. Not to mention the kindness lacing his voice and his fingers now gently interlaced with her own. It was like John's personality wrapped in Sherlock's body.
Her eyes flickered up to his and her stomach clenched upon seeing how soft his normally icy eyes were. They were more like a gentle ocean now, one that she feared she could get lost in for hours without realising.
A light blush painted her cheeks as she averted her gaze and replied, "I'm alright, I think. I don't really feel anything with the drugs. What-what happened?"
"You don't remember?" Sherlock frowned, clearly concerned that she was suffering from memory loss. His mind began to race with potential causes before Lydia even had the chance to answer.
But she put his fears to rest as she spoke slowly, "I remember getting beaten, but it was in one of the private rooms and the door was locked. How did I get here?"
"Zoe found me and told me where you might be. I had John phone an ambulance so that you could get medical attention."
Lydia shook her head, "no, no Zoe should have been gone. I told her to go!"
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her as he noted her frustration in her friend for not following her orders. "You knew what was going to happen didn't you? You knew they were going to hurt you, to leave you to die. Why did you let it happen?"
"I-I don't know what you mean," Lydia stuttered, the morphine causing her to stumble and fail to keep up her typical ease of lying. Not to mention, she was caught extremely off guard by this whole situation. She needed to come up with a fake story for what had happened quickly. If she didn't then she would be putting her friends in danger. Moriarty's threat lingered in her mind, a constant reminder that if she tried to win against him, she would end up losing her friends' lives as well as her own.
Sherlock saw the pain in Lydia's eyes and understood that she had reconsidered outing the Rose Foundation, deflating his hopes slightly. He was sure he would be able to get a confession out of her, especially under these conditions, but it would have been so much easier if he had just caught her before she was taken away to be punished and reminded what would happen if she transgressed.
"Lydia, you can trust me," he spoke calmly, lightly rubbing his thumb against her hand.
She glanced down at their joined hands and shook her head, "I really don't know what you mean, Sherlock, I'm sorry."
"So you have no idea why you were taken upstairs and beaten after openly confessing that the Rose Foundation was all a scam?"
There was a note of anger in Sherlock's voice, causing her to flinch. But she took a breath to control her emotions and her racing heart beeping loudly for Sherlock to hear, "I never said that the Rose Foundation was a scam, you are putting words in my mouth and misinterpreting what I meant on stage."
"Lydia, I heard your song and the introduction you gave it! I saw how afraid and broken you were, you let the world see, for a moment, your true self."
Shaking her head, she quickly defended, "no, I was just acting, Sherlock, that's what I do. I wanted to sing a song that reflected how all of the kids that the Rose Foundation had helped felt before their intervention. We were all hopeless, with no where else left to go and they saved us."
Sherlock wanted to be angry with her, to let out a bitter laugh at Lydia's pathetic attempts to cover up what had happened the night before. But part of him was relieved because he saw in her that same talented actress that he had first been so intrigued by. If he hadn't been present the night before, if the words she spoke were the only recollection he had of that night, he might have just believed her.
But before he could push her for the truth, the door to her room opened and Sherlock found his brother standing in the threshold. Lydia's face twisted into confusion as she saw him, not knowing who he was or why he was in her room. But she recalled seeing him in 221B the night she had tried to plant the necklace- the night she had killed one of her closest friends.
Mycroft didn't even acknowledge Lydia as he spoke to his brother, "Sherlock, we need to talk."
"Go ahead, can't promise I'll listen though," Sherlock retorted, squeezing Lydia's hand slightly.
The small movement seemed to catch Mycroft's attention, his lip curling in disgust. "Alone."
"Lydia just woke up and I'm the middle of getting details about her attack, I'm sure whatever matter of national importance you've brought me can wait ten minutes."
Mycroft raised an eyebrow, "is that what you were doing? I'm afraid I haven't come with a case for you, brother mine, but I don't think Ms. Evans wants to hear what I have to say."
"Wait, he's your brother?" Lydia spoke up, but immediately regretted it when Mycroft turned his steely gaze on her. It was enough to make her shrink in on herself and wish that she was still unconscious.
Sherlock nodded, "unfortunately." He stood from his seat and let go of Lydia's hand, leaving it feeling strangely cold without his touch. "I'll let your doctor know that you've woken up."
"Sherlock?" She called out before he left the room, causing Myrcoft to tap his foot impatiently. "Do you know what happened to my personal belongings? I just want to let my friends know that I'm alive."
To her surprise, Sherlock slipped his hand in his trouser pocket, producing her mobile and handing it over to her. "They won't be visiting you in the hospital, I'm afraid. The Rose Foundation set up a performance for them in America."
The way that Sherlock said this told Lydia that he refused to believe that it wasn't just a performance, but did not press the matter further. Lydia watched him and his brother leave before unlocking her phone and going to the group chat she had with her friends.
A frown spread across her face as she read the most recent messages, which must have been sent by Sherlock considering they were signed 'SH.' They were mostly just to update them on her condition and one thanked Zoe for her help in finding her. But the thought that he could easily break into a password protected phone scared Lydia. Of course she would never be so stupid as to leave incriminating evidence on her phone, but the fact he was able to guess her passcode was still unsettling.
Shaking those thoughts away, she wrote out a new message: I just wanted to let you know that I'm awake, but we should talk soon - plans have changed
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(A/N): And Lydia's ok! But unfortunately, she has had a change of heart (but that means more tension and conflict with is always fun)! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!