High Functioning Hopeless Romantic

Chapter 15

When I came to consciousness, only Mary stood over me. She was fanning me with a vacation brochure for the Bahamas. Was Mrs. Hudson thinking of taking a trip? I heard soft talking a ways away, and I opened my eyes up fully to see a dimly lit room I did not recognize. Only a single lamp was on. "Am I dead?" I asked, groaning and rubbing the back of my head as I tried to sit up.

"Thankfully no," responded Mary with a chuckle.

"Where am I?" I asked. The bed I lay on was decorated in a simple white comforter, and framed pictures and paintings were scattered around the wall.

"Mmhssm mrrom," muttered Mary.

"Come again?" I asked, not understanding a word. Either she was purposefully not telling me, or I hit my head really hard.

"Sherlock's room," she responded, standing up from where she sat on the edge of the bed. I rolled my eyes and let my head fall back down. Suddenly, the minutes before I passed out all came rushing out at me. I breathed easy, trying not to strain my mind too much, but even so, the calm vibe of the room kept me at peace.

"So... My uncle, who I thought was dead, is actually alive." I sighed, my whole chest heaving with tiredness. "Simple enough," I said, although my sarcastic tone meant otherwise.

"If you're up to it, you can come out to the living room and they'll explain everything."

"They?" I asked. I figured Uncle Aaron could speak for himself. I snorted in my head, the uncle sounding unfamiliar in my mouth. "Okay, I'm good," I sighed, getting up slowly. I felt dizzy for a second, but I pushed through anyway and walked towards the door, Mary following behind as a safety net. I walked into the room of voices, well really just Sherlock and Mycroft whispering to each other seriously while everyone else sat around quietly. Leon sat next to John on the couch, both men had their eyes closed like they were napping.

"Look who's back," greeted Mary, and all heads snapped towards me. I began to feel lightheaded again, this time from the unnecessary attention of everybody. Leon stood up from the couch, and at the same time Sherlock stepped away from Mycroft towards me. Both men stopped, seeing as they were right next to each other, and shared an awkward look. Sherlock cleared his throat, then crossed over Leon, acting as if he hadn't meant to walk towards me at all, and instead towards Aaron who sat in John's armchair.

"How are you feeling love?" asked Leon. He came close and took my hands in his rough ones, then gave me a half smile.

"Just dandy," I responded in monotone. Aaron's back was to me and he stood up from the chair. His hair was wiry, sticking out here and there in loose curls. It was dark too, almost black, a stark contrast compared to my mother's who's was as blonde as mine. Sherlock was whispering in his ear, but when he caught my eye he stopped and pushed Aaron around towards me.

My uncle, I still did not like that word, shuffled towards me hesitantly. He looked up, nervousness coloring the wrinkles that lined his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in years. "You have your mother eyes," he said.

"What is this, Harry Potter?" I joked. No one laughed though, besides Aaron.

"I mean if you think about, I'm like Sirius Black and-"

"How are you alive?" I asked. On any other occasion I would have loved to discuss the parallels of my life to Harry Potter, but not with my uncle that I knew nothing about and whom I thought was dead for years.

"Never died."

"Obviously," muttered Sherlock, rolling his eyes behind him. He caught my eye again, but looked away just as quickly.

"What I mean is," said Aaron, "that I was never in the car. I faked my death."

"You mean my mum knew you were alive this whole time? What about my grandparents did they-"