Him, Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 28- Where Have You Been

------Willow POV--------

I start toward the top of the staircase, still shaking with fear. The fact of what had just happened has just scarred me for life. Of course not as bad as what happened to Alistair, but still. I head out of the building as quick as possible, though I'm still terribly slow, and make my way into the random streets of London. I have no idea where I am. I cannot focus. I cannot distinguish anything.

In the corner of my eye I see a familiar face. Sherlock. I turn towards him and sprint to him, into a hug. I have no idea why. All I know is that I'm hugging someone I can trust.

I bury my face into his coat and grip tightly around his slim frame. Then surprisingly he hugs back. I fight back the tears threatening my eyelids, but fail. Tears come streaming down my face.

"Where have you been? What happened?" Sherlock asks, his voice almost two octaves lower than usual. I only answer with a sharp intake of breath.

Soon John appears, witnessing the both of me and Sherlock hugging. He jogs toward us, his face slightly confused. but still holds a sweet smile.

"Willow!" He shouts happily, then pauses for a moment shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Am I... Interrupting something?"

Sherlock pulls away quickly looking at John and saying, in his normal voice, "No, John." He says this while fixing his coat, fixing himself in general. John nods slightly confused and continues questions.

"Willow, where the bloody hell were you!?" He shouts, in fact he shouts loud enough that the whole street heard. I look around slightly scared.

"Look can we talk about this at Baker Street?" I whisper looking at John. He quickly nods and Sherlock pushes past him heading toward home.

I follow behind, keeping my head down.

-----

I shrug off my coat and plop down onto the couch. John stands firmly in front of me and Sherlock walks towards the window.

Silence.

"Okay, now can you tell me where you bloody were?" John sighs. Looking down at the ground then up to me.

I pull my knees to my chest, taking in a deep breath. I run a hand through my messy hair and begin to speak.

"I just went to get some air," I stop there hoping that... That maybe my answer was enough.

"Then what?" Sherlock asks without moving his gaze from the window. Sunlight shines through the window, lighting up the dancing dust and Sherlock's face. His curly hair, perfect and untouched. His slim figure casts an unforgettable shadow.

"I was being extremely idiotic after that, unaware of everything I did." I sigh then continue. "I followed someone, for no apparent reason, I guess I just thought that they were different." I look down at the carpet below me. I straighten up. "Then I guess it just kinda went south after that, Moriarty went after me....in a...sexual way." Sherlock narrows his eyes at the word sexual. "Then this girl helped me and I left, terrified." I say as calmly as I can. John looks at me, his face focussed on concern, he then turns to look at Sherlock. Sherlock turns to John and I.

He looks straight into me. "And how was that terrifying to you?" He asks frowning. What?! How was that terrifying to me?  I stand up and walk up to him, centimeters from his face. I clench my jaw and look into his cold piercing eyes. 

"Imagine," I say sternly, "Being shoved against a wall." I breathe in. "Touched. By the one you loathe. By the one who killed all the people you had loved." I growl as tears start streaming down my cheeks. "Think about that for a second, Sherlock." I whisper still staring up at him and those blue eyes of his. 

John still stands looking right at us, concern and worry still spread across his face as if it were glued to him. I glance over to him and shake out of my trance, I sit back down on the couch looking nowhere in specific. John looks down at the ground, blinks a couple of times and then goes into the kitchen. 

After a while, I hear a beep and John comes into view. 

"Sherlock, Willow?" He says with a shaky voice. I say nothing. Sherlock doesn't look up from the laptop screen.  "Guys?" His voice is slightly frantic.

"Not now, John." Sherlock sighs while he scribbles something onto a notepad. 

"Sherlock!" He yells holding out his phone. Sherlock snatches the phone and reads the screen. His eyes widen slightly and he looks at me. 

*****

A/N        Well this is a cliffhanger...