Him, Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 10~ Release

-----Willow's POV--------
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My head is being crushed by pain. There's yelling in the back of my head, but I can't make it out. I keep wishing for it to stop. It doesn't help anything. I somehow find a way to open my eyes from the darkness I have been sucked into. Sherlock and John are sitting at the foot of a bed- my bed. Why am I in bed, specifically a hospital bed. They keep arguing and I have had enough of it.

"Sherlock shut up!" I yell louder than I expected. "You too John, you guys are giving me a migraine." Sherlock and John stop arguing and stare at me blankly. I stare back in confusion.

"Oh thank God-", John's face is washed over with relief. Sherlock shows no emotion as usual.

"Er, um, Why exactly am I in a hospital bed." I say quietly and as soft as possible. Sherlock starts to stare at me intently.

"Do you remember anything?" Sherlock's voice is low.

"Not really." I am slightly afraid of what may have happened last night. "I'm sorry I don't." I remove eye contact and stare out the window with great interest.

"Don't be sorry Willow-" John is cut off from a lady in a lab coat walking into the room. Dark arches hang under her eyes; hasn't slept alot and by the indents in her fingers I can tell she has been typing. A ton. Combining the two acknowledgements I have already, she types at night and works here during day. Her lips are chapped, she has been dehydrating herself. Then there's the way she walks in- She can fight. Doesn't often. She has been trained for a cause. Family? Afraid? Criminal? Definitely not a criminal she works at a hospital. They have all of her private information.

My head reels with scenarios. Unlimited scenarios. The lady says they need to leave. They obey, Sherlock does unwillingly. He gives me a glance before he leaves. I soon realize the women is speaking to me and I mentally shake into reality.

"Does any type of brain damage run through the family." I stop her before she ask anything else of my family.

"I don't know anything about my family. And don't ask me about far away relatives. It'll just waste your time." My voice is flat and shows no emotion.

"Can't I call anyone?" She' s completely confused.

"For what? Company? Those two visitors would fit that missing piece pretty well." What am I saying?!

"No, I mean I need to know your medical history."

"Well the most I can tell you is that I am not allergic to anything." I say bluntly licking my chapped lips.

"Is there anyone I can call, at all?" She feels guilty, why?

"No," I cut off from there. I don't like talking about my family. "The only place I can ever imagine you'll find my history, is deep inside the government's files. The stuff no one cares about and forgot about a long time ago." I am telling way too much. Must be the morphine.

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It has been almost a month since I almost told a doctor about my family. I have recovered- not fully sadly. I am released from the hospital today and John has invited me to live in the spare room at 221b. I walk outside the hospital in my blood stained, old, ripped sweatshirt. I love this sweatshirt too much. I wear it everyday, I mean these are one out of three outfits I have. I still love it, even though it's stained with brutal blood, I love it.

I decide to walk to the flat. I haven't walk in a couple months, it is great to be back. Walking through the streets of London. I get to the flat and don't bother knocking. I don't think John and Sherlock know I have been released early. I walk up the stairs slowly, I haven't been working out a lot. As a matter of fact, I shouldn't have walked. I walk into the living room and look at Sherlock who is pacing around the room. He blinks at me acknowledging that I am here. John walks and is about to ask Sherlock a question, then he sees me. He looks genuinely shocked.

"You're back!" John smiles I can tell he's obviously excited. He runs up to me and hugs me. I have no idea how to respond so I let I be. I freeze and go through with it. I know how to hug, but I just can't now. I only hug when I need it and when I have someone to hug. He lets go and asks if I want tea and I decline.

"Sherlock, are you working on a case?" I ask interested. I want to be on a case at least once. He throws a large file at me. I react quickly and catch it. I go through the highlights.

Missing! Child went missing!

Oh my god, people make such a dramatic scene over it. It's just one kid. I keep reading it.

Twenty-eight children have gone missing within the past month!

Ok, I guess they have a reason to be dramatic.

"Do you have every child's detail kidnap or something like that?" I'm lazy with my words as I walk to the kitchen for food. I haven't had real food in forever, even though there's probably not even food here either.

"Yes, there on the desk when you need them." Sherlock responds sighing.

"Bored?" I ask smiling.

"Ugh, Extremely."

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