How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 74

(John's POV: )



I came home that evening to two silent, irritable people, who were secretly happy to see me but would never admit it. Alice was dressed normally, but in the shirt Sherlock had got her for her birthday. She hadn't even taken it out of the packaging after she got it. I thought she hated it, but I guess she was saving it for a special occasion. I don't know what the occasion was, but I would've liked to know. Sherlock was dressed as well, despite the time of evening. They both sat, staring into space ahead of them. Alice was rubbing a penknife I didn't know she owned.



"Not mine." She suddenly said, not moving her gaze. I sighed and shook my head, wondering how she knew what I was thinking. "You mouth your thoughts softly." She said again, seemingly out of the blue.



"I don't do that." I replied, thinking and going through memories.



"Yes you do." Sherlock butted in. I shrugged and went to bed, not liking the stuffy, uncomfortable air in the room.



The next morning the Daily Express front page headline screamed 'MORIARTY WALKS FREE' with the strapline 'Shock verdict at Old Bailey trial'. The opening paragraph read: 'The Judge could only look on dumbfounded as the Jury found 'Jimbo' Moriarty 'Not Guilty'. Gasps were heard around the courtroom as the Jury declared their verdict'.

The Guardian declared 'Shock verdict at trial' and the article began, 'In an unbelievable turn of events Moriarty walked free today after putting up no defence at all for what has been described as the Trial of the Century. Star witness Sherlock Holmes was not present for the verdict as in another twist to the case was thrown out of court by the Judge. Questions have been asked in Parliament and the Prime Minister was quoted as saying 'This is a disgrace, a sign if ever we needed one that broken Britain is still broken...'. Before I could read more, Alice took all the papers and lit them on fire in the bathtub. I was able to sneak one away from her.

The Guardian declared, 'Moriarty vanishes' while on one of its inside pages was a cartoon caricature of Sherlock holding a crystal ball with the caption underneath reading, 'What Next for the Reichenbach Hero?'. Alice, again, grabbed it and set it on fire before I could find anything else.





(ONE MONTH LATER, John's POV: )

Screaming. I shot up in bed, hearing screaming. Too high-pitched to be Sherlock. Alice then. Not again...

I jumped out of bed, not even bothering with a housecoat because she had stopped, and I could hear her sobbing. I quickly went into the den and saw her on the floor, her back to the couch, her head in her hands and her back shaking. I bent down next to her, rubbing her back and pulling her into an embrace.



"Shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay. Shh." I comforted, one hand on the small of her back and the other rubbing the back of her neck.



"It's... all... my fault." She choked out, barely audible.



"No, it's okay. It's not." I assured, not even knowing what she was talking about.



"It... is! My fault, all my fault!" She insisted, her hands balling into fists against my bare back.



"Shh. What is?" I asked, still trying to get her to stop shaking.



"J-Jacobs! Jared." She sobbed, burying her face in the crook of my neck.



"Shhh, it's okay."



"Quit lying to me!" She suddenly shouted, her breathing erratic on my skin. "It's not okay! It's never okay! It was all my fault! He was the last one, and I messed up!" She yelled, not making sense.



"Okay, Alice. Just calm down. It was just a nightmare." I tried, closing my eyes in exasperation and kissing her hair as I usually did.



"It's not! You know that, John! It was real! Now I have to re-live it over, and over, and over again!" She argued, gently pounding her fist on my back each time she said 'over'. I could feel the tears sliding down my chest as they accumulated on my shoulder.



"Alice, calm down. Please." I begged. "You're hyperventilating."



"I don't care, John! Jared was the last one, and I. Messed. Up! I can't fix it! I never can!" She tightened her grip around my waist. I sighed again and rest my head on her shoulder, trying to think of what to say. Suddenly I heard Sherlocks door open. He rushed over, wearing nothing but his pyjama bottoms like me, and looked down at me, asking for permission silently. I nodded and broke away from Alice. Before she could react, Sherlock had taken my place.



"Alice, shh. It's going to be okay. You couldn't stop what happened; it's not your fault." He said in the nicest voice I had ever heard from him. She didn't change at all, only squeezed his torso. He gently stroked her hair, rocking back and forth. "Calm down. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault." He insisted. She quit hyperventilating but other than that didn't change. I went and began making tea, making sure it had no caffeine. I could still hear her crying, but muffled words were mixed in from both of them. I couldn't understand anything. When I came out again, Sherlock was still embracing her, but she had quit crying and her fists had unclenched. She was hiccupping silently, her face still buried in the crook of his neck, as he rocked back and forth. I sat down in front of them and showed Sherlock the tea. He nodded and let go of her, having her turn around. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, smiling faintly at me and picking up her tea. She sipped at it, and only then did I realize that she was still in her clothes from earlier, just without the jacket and the top two buttons of her shirt were undone.



"You accidentally fell asleep, didn't you?" I asked tiredly, shaking my head a bit.



"I didn't have enough coffee..." She mumbled, almost silently. I sighed and looked down. She was holding Sherlocks hand. I would have thought it strange if I wasn't so tired.



"Go get pyjamas on." Sherlock suddenly ordered, looking sternly at Alice.



"I'll stay aw-" She began.



"No." Sherlock interrupted. "You haven't slept in four days. Go." He commanded. I didn't know he had been keeping track. She silently got up and walked into his room to get her clothes.



"This one was the worst one so far." I mumbled, sipping the tea. He just nodded. "And she still won't tell me what upsets her so much."



"She doesn't want you to know. She thinks you'll think her weak." Sherlock replied.



"I have known her for over a year, and in that time not once have I thought her weak." I answered, feeling a bit offended.



"I know."



"...How do you get her to stop? I know you know what she dreams about, but how? You're so... human when you do it." I suddenly asked, feeling uninformed.



"...Mycroft used to have nightmares. Mother would comfort him, and I watched. As he got older, he lied about not having them anymore. I would do what Mother did." He explained, ignoring the 'human' comment. Before I could reply, Alice came back out in one of Sherlocks sleeping T-shirts, leggings, and Sherlock's red housecoat. She timidly sat back down, avoiding eye contact while sipping her tea.



"Don't you think it's time I knew, Alice?" I asked quietly. She looked up at me indecisively, then to Sherlock. He nodded. She sighed.



"When I was in service, I made four friends. My best mate being Jared Jacobs." She began sadly, looking at the hole her crossed legs made on the floor. Her hand was in Sherlocks again. "When we got out of training, we were put on a team together, each of us having a specific skill set, enough so to where we could form a team." I could see her eyes beginning to get teary again. "We were a good team. One of the best." Her voice broke a little. "Then the first one died." She said, her voice going to a whisper for fear of it breaking again. "Then the second, then the third. Only Jacobs and I were left." She took in a shaky breath. "Then he died." She swallowed hard. "And it was my fault. Because I was supposed to shoot the guard, but instead he killed him. I didn't see my target, so I was looking for him and not watching Jacobs' back." She let out a sob. "His throat was slit. And I was captured. The mission was a fail, and he wasn't the only one on my team who died." She shakily pulled out a folded-up piece of paper out of the house coat pocket. She slowly unfolded it, silently crying. She handed me the paper, and I looked at it. It was an old, worn photograph that had fold lines all over it and cracks and discolorations. It was of three young men, looking like they were fresh out of boot camp, and Alice. Young Alice. They were in a line, Alice on the left end and their arms on each other's shoulders. They were all grinning widely. Someone -most likely Alice- had defaced the photo with red marker by putting 'x' over each of the boys' faces. She had marked red circles and lines on their bodies. I could only guess that that was how they died. I looked up at the redhead, who was looking at the picture, tears streaming down and hands in her lap. She was rubbing the ring on her finger.



"Alice, I- I..." I stammered, looking down at the photo again.



"It's fine." She said, her unsteady.



"The ring too, Alice." Sherlock said gently but firmly. I looked down at her hands. She sighed heavily.



"I got their dog tags." She choked. "I had them made into this ring." She admitted, taking it off and showing it to me. I looked at the shiny silver object, amazed that such a simple thing could hold such horrible memories, and that she had held on to it. She let out a sob before sliding it back on and throwing her hands in her lap and staring at them. "I know you probably think I'm a sentimental idiot-" She began, crying fully again.



"Alice Jacqulin White." I interrupted, looking at her sternly. "You are no more an idiot for crying over lost friends than Sherlock is for hating Anderson! You are one of the bravest, strongest, smartest, best people I know, and I could never judge you for being sentimental of your passed friends!" I scolded, angry that she would think herself wrong for missing her friends. She looked up at me sadly. "You are one of my best friends, and I could not imagine having to deal with losing you or Sherlock, so that makes you stronger than me for lasting through it for six years." She just stared at me for a second, and then a soft smile broke out. "Now come hug me!" I ordered, not meaning to sound stern for that part. Sherlock smiled and hugged her -as best he knew how- from behind before she could come to me. I hugged her from the front and she giggled lightly, hugging us back as best as she could.

As far as I know, we fell asleep on the den floor, her inbetween Sherlock and I, and the photo lying discarded and forgotten on the couch. She didn't have any more nightmares after that night.

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK PLEASE! I know you all thought it was gonna be... not that, but it was. *evil laugh* Still, please tell me what you think. =) Enjoy, vote, and comment fun peoples! =)