Adler-Holmes

We're so starving

"Is everything okay, Charlotte?"

"Deduce it. That's what you usually do."

"That's why I'm asking." I cocked an eyebrow into the darkness. What was he talking about?

"Deduce that." He whispered to me. I looked at him.

"You didn't arrive at Mycroft's after me- you were already there, standing outside listening. You heard it all. You know I feel like you don't care and now you want to...make an effort? You want to show me you care? And you're prepared to change? And you think by not deducing how I'm feeling but actually talking to me once in a while would be helpful. Took you long enough." I rolled my eyes.

"Does your mother know where you are?" I shrugged.

"Probably. You have the homeless network, she has rats." He smirked.

"Hungry?"

"Starving." He pulled out his phone and texted John, asking him to bring food.

"Do you seriously not have any food in your house?" I questioned him.

"Well last time you ate at mine you refused to touch half the food because it had been in the same fridge as a severed head."

"I was 12 and there was a head in my dad's fridge! What do you expect?" I laughed before seeing the taxi driver's pale face. My dad and I stifled a laugh.

"A joke- Halloween." My dad explained. Lies. I continued to laugh.

We pulled up alongside Baker Street and my dad paid the taxi driver before we headed indoors.

"Charlotte!" Mrs Hudson wrapped me in a warm embrace.

"Hello, Mrs Hudson."

"My, haven't you grown? How are you? I haven't seen you in... well, years."

"I'm sorry about that. I'm doing okay thank you."

"John's upstairs, I'll bring you something up in a moment." I nodded my thanks and followed my dad up the stairs to his apartment. John engulfed me in a hug before I even stepped through the doorframe.

"Charlotte don't you ever walk out like that again. If you need to leave somewhere and you don't want your parents- ring me and tell me where you're going. Is that understood?"

"Yes..."

"Come with me. I want to talk to you." I glanced at my dad before following the doctor into my room.

"What's going on?" He clicked the door shut as he spoke.

"I'm sorry?"

"Lott. What's happening?"

"I got fed up of my mum..."

"Don't lie."

"I feel so... stupid and helpless. My family are these masterminds and I'm just... average."

"You are not just average. You've got the best of both. You don't appear heartless to people and you're definitely not stupid. You just don't show off about it, which, surely, is a good thing?" I looked at the ground.

"Lott, don't you ever compare yourself to average." I nodded slowly.

"Thank you."

"Now, come on, he'll start wondering what we're talking about." He opened the door and led me out.

"At least you've been fed this time... no signs of malnutrition and no major injuries as far as I can tell either."

"Major?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Well, other than the bruising on her arm." How had he seen that?

"What happened, Charlotte?" My father moved in front of me, his voice deadly.

"There was a client..."

"There always is." Sherlock murmured.

"He just got angry that I wasn't included in the price too..." Both men looked bloodthirsty.

"Who was he?"

"I don't know," I lied, "I left before I could find out his name." My father raised an eyebrow at me.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." I smiled weakly.

"I'm fine, dad. Honestly." His usually cold eyes turning soft as he looked me over.

"If you're not, I'll find out."

"I know." I turned and fell back into my dad's seat, seeing John smirk from the corner of my eye.

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson appeared, leaving a tray on the table beside my father.

"Here you go, Charlie, dear. There's some soup and some tea. I remember you were always partial to parsnip soup. There's a bread roll too, if you want more let me know." My father's landlady almost sang before hurrying out the way she came before I could manage a thank you. John's phone started ringing.

"I'd better get this," he stated the obvious.

"It'll be Mycroft, checking I did actually make it home. Oh, and he'll be asking for his coat. Let him know I'll get it back to him tomorrow?" John rolled his eyes, nodding before leaving the room.

"Lott, eat something." My father's voice was too tender for it to be a command- more of a plead.

"I'm not that hungry."

"Lott," he sighed, moving over to me, crouching in front of me.

"I'm not entirely sure what's happened, which is something you know I rarely find. But you're hiding something. Now, I could interrogate you to find out what it is, but instead I want you to eat something." Declarative. I.E. if you don't eat something now I'll force you to. Or you can get talking about that client of your mother's.

"Could you pass me the food please?" He smiled at my response, standing up straight and passing me the soup.

"Thank you." I sipped down some soup before starting on the bread roll. Okay, maybe I was hungrier than I thought.

"Told you to eat something." My father teased, as though he could read my mind. I grinned.

"Did she feed you this time? I know you and John weren't talking about that so I want to ask."

"Yeah."

"Properly?" I looked away from his gaze.

"Not all the time."

"How often?"

"Maybe once or twice a week?"

"I thought you looked too skinny."

"I'm sorry..."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I don't know... It's just something you say."

"I'm going to tell Lestrade. He will get her locked away."

"She's 'dead' remember? And her file is classified. He won't be able to do anything and you know it."

"I don't care, Lott. You're not going back to her."

"She has custody."

"She's 'dead' remember?" My father mimicked me. I shrugged.

"No, she's not technically, but officially she is. You try and explain to Lestrade why you got a restraining order against a legally dead woman." My dad's eyes flickered with danger.

"Watch me."