Strangest Stranger

23

Ally's POV

(Back to the Present)

Sherlock, Annaliese, and I are sprawled out on our bed, all three of us reading our own book. Well, Sherlock and I are reading, and Annaliese is looking at the pictures in her book, then asks Sherlock, "What dis word?"

I'm actually reading the Bible, and every once in a while, Sherlock will ask me, "Are you actually reading that?"

And I'll reply "Yeah, you should try it sometime." He'll give me an annoyed look, but I'll just shrug.

It's silent for a few moments, then I smell something odd. I look at Sherlock, only to see him looking at me. I whisper to him, "Do you smell that?"

He nods, saying, "Grab Anna. Just in case."

I pick Anna up, and carry her with us. The smell gets worse as we walk down the hallway. It smells like...smoke.

We walk into the front room, and Sherlock yells, "Oh, Christ!"

The couch is on fire.

I run into the kitchen, with Anna in my arms, and grab the fire extinguisher, tossing it to Sherlock. I hope he knows how to work that thing, or else, we're in for some real trouble!

He sprays the couch so much that it now looks like a huge pile of marshmallow fluff.

Then, I see a flicker of light, and am tossed backwards onto the floor.

I'm holding Annaliese with all of my strength (without crushing her), and I hear her crying from the loud blast.

A moment later, Sherlock is squishing Anna between our bodies, saying, "There's another blast coming."

I groan, then see another flash of light, followed by a roaring blast, sending glass flying all over us.

After a few moments of silence, except for the sirens in the distance, Sherlock stands up, pulling Annaliese off of me, into his arms. He asks, "You two okay?"

I nod, nervously. Something is wrong. The sirens are out in front of the flat now, and Sherlock asks, "Why're they even here? We're all fine!"

I start to say something, but I stop, seeing the back of him. Glass and other shrapnel is stuck in his back, tearing the fabric of his coat. I say, sounding jittery, "Sherlock, go down to the ambulance."

He turns, asking, "Why?"

I say, more demandingly, "Go down to the ambulance. PLEASE."

He hands Annaliese over to me, and he walks down the stairs, as he was told to do. I follow him, leaving our shattered flat behind.

Annaliese sees Sherlock's back, and whispers to me, "Is daddy gonna' be okay?"

I whisper back, "Sweetie, he'll be alright. Your daddy has a tendency to be indestructible."