Life is but a Dream... (A Sherlock Fanfiction)

*The Great Game: Part Four*

Chapter Twenty-Five: Panic At Scotland Yard

As I got out of the the cab, I noticed the sky had cleared up, and revealed the blue of the sky that my eyes mirrored. I checked my phone to see that it was only nine in the morning, and also some five alerts.

Aspen? You left early yesterday... you okay?
~Molly

I have some antidepressants for you... Jim suggested them. Later you can come and get them. They'll help, I promise
~Molly

Hey what's up?
~Wyatt

Missed Call:
Blocked

Voicemail:
Blocked

I wasn't interested, simple as that. I frustratingly turned off my phone as I followed John and Sherlock up to where perhaps Lestrades office was.

When we got there, I stood by the window as Lestrade explained something about a woman in a car, rigged with explosives.
"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?" He asked.
"I can't be the only one who gets bored." Sherlock hesitated. I looked to him as I remembered seeing bullet-holes in the wall. Looking back out the window, I saw someone who looked afraid walking around, then turned a corner to Piccadilly Circus . What looked suspicious was he was in a puffy coat, as if he was wearing something underneath.

A phone beeping pulled me back from my thoughts. All of us looked over to Sherlock's pink phone and heard
"You have one new message."
Followed by four pip-sounds.
"Four pips." John said, and I glanced at him as if he read my mind.
"First test passed, it would seem. Here's the second." Sherlock announced. Wait, what test?
Then the door opened to Ms. Donovan, holding a phone and gesturing to Sherlock.
"Freak, it's for you." she told him, making Sherlock take the phone from her.

Moving my thumb to my mouth, I started biting my nails as I looked back out the window, and attempted to listen to Sherlocks phone conversation.
"Carl laughed at me, so I stopped him laughing." a worried voice faintly said over the line.
John must've heard it too, because I saw him walk closer to Sherlock.
"And you've stolen another voice, I presume?" He asked.
"This is about you and me." The man said, then was interrupted by what sounded like a bus.
"What's that noise?" Sherlock asked once more.
"The sounds of life." he said, "but don't worry-" the mans voice got more distressed as he finished his sentence, "I can soon fix that."

Amidst all of this, I tried to ignore my slowly racing pulse. My hand had moved to my upper neck to feel it quicken, as well as my breathing. The conversation between Sherlock and this man had brought back memories of when John would call me from Afghanistan, and I would be crying. Then again, I had lost hope when he stopped calling.
"Aspen." John called, and I looked up. "You okay?"
At that moment, Lestrade opened the door, making me jump.

"No." I said, then started for the door. As I rushed out, my mind started buzzing like hornets from my thoughts. I couldn't deal with one of these now, especially since I haven't had an attack in ages.
The steel door of the stair cases banged open, and I began to speed down the rubber-scented steps. The dams of my eyes blocked tears that were welling as I brought out my earbuds and phone.
The racing of my heart continued as I reached the lower levels. Quickly, as I sat down, I scrolled through my music to an aria performed by some guy from the production of my book.

I ran my hands through my hair as my breathing started to settle. Through the quiet moments I could hear someone walking down the stairs, then stop and sit next to me. They took out my earbud and put an arm around me.
"Aspen-" John started, but once I heard his voice, I stood up.
"Please, John. Just- stop. I mean it. I need alone time. just a few minutes." I said, and made my way out.
"Aspen," he started, and I looked back. "At least go back to the flat." he requested.
I studied him for a moment, knowing he was anxious.
"Whatever." I said, and went back outside into the gloom.

As I waked amongst the sidewalk, my music continued with the rest of the show I had on album, but most of my mind was away. I thought about texting Wyatt back, because I had school tomorrow, and I didn't really want to talk to him. He'd bother me tomorrow. Then there was the messages Molly sent me. No way was I willing to take anything Jim had to offer. I didn't trust him in any way, shape, or form. Though, Molly seems like the only one who cares about my health. John doesn't count in my book.

Rain started to sprinkle once again as I continued to walk on the streets, hearing cars beep here and there. If only that was it for London. Just the traffic and commotion. Not the murders made or the mothers who yell at their children.
"Sorry." I said to no one, as if they heard my thought. I came to the black wooden door of 221B, but turned the knob to find it locked. Great. After knocking some didn't help, I wondered what would happen if I wandered a bit before coming back.

"Can't hurt anyone." I said to myself, then made my way away from the flat. Once again I looked to my phone and noticed the voicemail from before from the Blocked number. I clicked on it, and put my phone to my ear.

"Aspen? Come to the hospital. I need your help."  Molly's voice sounded. Even though I understood, what was confusing was that Molly had messaged me within her own contact, then I guess, called me on someone else's phone? The very thought was making my brain hurt more than it already did.

I suppose it's worth a shot. What could go wrong?