If You Love Me, Get Clean

Chapter Twenty Two

June 2015

Cause you don't ever trust this mind of mine
You're watching me lie when I say that I'm fine
Weaponised words can get in the way
Nothing I say ever coming out straight
When I pull through, hope you feel the same
Without you I don't even know myself

Alice claimed a family emergency at work, at Mary's insistence, and Mary dropped her back to her flat on her way to take the boys Sherlock dragged into the lab with him home. She lingered, unsure if she should leave her alone, but when Alice reminded her she had two young addicts in the back of her car she accepted defeat.

Her phone alerted her to a text once she was safely inside her flat. It was Mycroft. Of course it was.

Mycroft
I am sorry for my brother's actions. Yet again. Do not give up on him, Alice. He'll grovel soon enough.

He detests texting, so she assumes it's for her benefit. She definitely doesn't feel up to having a nice little chat on the phone about how badly Sherlock has fucked up. She doesn't need his big brother pleading with her to not give up on him. She doesn't exactly want Sherlock to grovel either. She needs space, needs to think. There's too much happening all at once.

She collapses onto the sofa, knees pulled up to her chest, and chews on her lower lip anxiously. She only took the pregnancy test last week, and she wanted to tell him, but she wanted to do it face to face. This morning was the first time she'd seen him in weeks, and it was hardly the greatest opportunity. 'Oh, you're high? Broken your sobriety? Well, guess what, honey! You've knocked me up! Impending fatherhood looks great on you!', not exactly ideal.

She doesn't think she can do this again. He'll be fine. He has more people this time, it's not all down to her anymore. John will keep an eye on him, as will Mycroft and Mrs Hudson. But all the same, there is that nagging voice in the back of her head that whispers poisonous little things. What if they don't know what to do with him? What if he can't stop, refuses to stop, disappears again? What if they don't find him until it's too late? What if he does die, and it's all because you couldn't step up like before?

A knock at the door snaps her out of her thoughts and she looks up, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown. The knock is soft, timid. It comes again.

"Alice, it's me," he says quietly through the door. "Can I talk to you?" You're not welcome to the flat until you're clean, she'd said. Obviously he doesn't respect her request, when does he ever?

She sighs, knowing she doesn't have the emotional strength for this. And yet, she stands up, trudges down the hall towards the door, and pulls it open, just far enough so she can see him.

He tries for a gentle smile. "Hello."

"Hi." She whispers.

He's almost back to normal. White shirt, dark suit, his big coat, the works. And yet, when she looks him in the face, she feels that same stab of betrayal in her chest that she felt when she saw him that morning, the same punch to the gut she's almost used to. He's high as a kite, he's just trying to hide it from the others, but she knows better. He knows he can't hide it from her either, that's why he looks so nervous.

"Can I come in?" He asks delicately, his fingers trailing against the doorframe.

After a moment, she pushes open the door fully, and he squeezes past her, hands thrust in his pockets to cover his tremors. It's useless really, she knows they're there, he knows she knows, but here he is, still trying to hide things from her.