Between The Raindrops- A Johnlock Fanfiction (Sequel to Beside You)

Chapter Eight- Hazel Peregrine?

Hell is empty. All the devils are here.

-          William Shakespeare

 

Sherlock

Falling… But it’s not just me. It’s John too- we’re face to face, trying to grab hands but we can’t. Somebody else is with us- a girl. Her hair is flowing upwards as if it’s trying to struggle back up to the top of wherever we fell from. I can’t see her face, but I know who it is.

It’s the girl.

Whispers of “together” fill the air- and a strange yet enchanting tune…

I woke up, a bead of sweat tricking from my forehead. Looking down, I breathed a sigh of relief to find that John was still there. It was just a dream. We were safe- but why was the tune still in my head?

It took me a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t- it was coming from the living room.

Somebody was in the suite.

My eyes widened, and, leaving a quick kiss on John’s forehead, I gently removed myself from his arms and slipped off the bed, my feet landing silently on the floor. I grabbed a spare bedsheet that was folded up onto a nearby chair and wrapped it around myself, before grabbing something from a drawer- the pistol we’d acquired yesterday.

Securing the bedsheet around myself, I started to make my way out of the bedroom and into the living room, placing one foot in front of another as quietly as possible.

What I saw was quite unexpected, but for some reason, not surprising.

The door to the balcony was wide open, curtains swaying in the wind and the moonlight flooding through, bathing their light over a girl, who was playing a strange but haunting song on a black violin- she looked older, though, with dark hair and higher cheekbones, but it was definitely her- the scary thing was, she seemed even more familiar.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered loudly, approaching her.

“Ah, finally- you’re awake,” she stopped playing. “Hello… Sherlock, I like your… sheet,” she hesitated again, as if she was going to say something else before my name.

“How did you get into the suite? The doors were locked!”

“I have two very effective methods.”

“Please, share,” I said almost sarcastically.

“Skeleton key… I’ll leave you to figure out the other one. Might I also thank you for not going to the police with that letter?”

I grunted, and she continued. “I suppose you’ve figured out as much as you can for now.”

She was pacing up and down, and it didn’t look like she’d been injured at all.

“This makes no sense whatsoever- even what I’ve discovered,” I commented. “Why aren’t you still injured? Gashes that deep should have killed you.”

“A fall off a building should have killed you. We all have methods of survival,” the girl said quietly, and slightly darkly. “Mine are a bit more… Eccentric, perhaps. Might I just say yours was rather genius, though?”

“Everyone thinks you’re dead. Where did you go?”

“I went home.”

“Where is home?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Your parents knew?”

“They do now.”