Natalie

Training

After being rescued, my behavior began to change. I became withdrawn. I had headphones with me almost all of the time; my phone was almost constantly playing some form of music. I didn't eat much, I wasn't hungry. John told me I was suffering a depression linked eating disorder.

'I'm not starving myself, John' I had told him.

'Not actively.' He replied. 'You see no point in eating, as an effort to stay alive. It's rather common in PTSD, you'll be alright, Natalie. Really.' He had smiled at me, from his speech I had deduced he had personal experience in the field of PTSD and depression. I had questioned it, but he merely repeated his reassurances. 'You'll be alright, Natalie.'

Sherlock had noticed my lack of eating, my musical addiction and my self-isolation. So he took me out to eat. We went to the little restaurant under the flat. He actually ordered something this time, often he doesn't, but in order to encourage my eating, he must as well. We ordered our food and he looked back to me. "Natalie." He began, but paused, unsure whether I would interrupt him. He continued. "Why?" He asked, the confusion painted on his face. That was all he needed to say, I understood what he meant with one word, but for the sake of you, journal reader, I shall include the rest. 'Why the hell are you doing this? You're safe, you're okay. Help me to understand.'

I paused. I wasn't sure. It just kinda, happened. The music drowned out the world. I didn't have to worry constantly, the world didn't exist past the sound. And I just wanted to be alone. If no one else were there, they couldn't get to me. I still talked to Sherlock, and John, and Molly, and Mary (who was beginning to get a bit of a baby-bump), Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade a bit. "Fear and exhaustion. I like my bubble. It means safety." I told him. Which would mean 'I'm afraid even more of the outside world. I have a bubble, my music is that bubble. I'm tired of the world, and it can't penetrate my bubble. The people and things I hold nearest are all safe in it, and so am I.'

He looked at me in silence for a moment. I looked back. I looked into his eyes and saw something, something I usually didn't see. Sadness, mixed with extreme anger. He knew why this was happening. The encounter with Jim shook me. It broke me. I had severe PTSD which caused depression and unlike John believed, it didn't seem to have a cure. And I couldn't really explain why. Not logically. And it angered me. I always knew I had science on my side, but suddenly, it was gone. Science and logic had abandoned me, leaving emotion and hidden humanity to take it's place. Finally Sherlock spoke, ripping me away from my thoughts. "I'm sorry, Natalie." He said, the sadness dripping from each word. Again I knew the words he didn't say. 'This is my fault Natalie, he went to you because of me. And I'm sorry.'

I stood up from the table and walked to Dad's chair. I bent down slightly to hug him. "It's not your fault." I whispered. "I'm glad I'm your daughter. The good times, the bad times, the scary times, the fun times. I'm here. No one can make me leave. Ever." I told him, still hugging.

He hugged me back. "Natalie Holmes. My daughter." I could feel his smile. "You make me damn proud to be a father." I smiled too at that, for the first real time in a little while.

"We'll find him Dad, an we'll get him. And everything will all be okay." I said after a while, taking my seat across the small table again. He simply nodded and we ate our pancakes.

He paid and we went back up to the flat and I turned on my music. I was in a good mood right now, I was actually feeling okay. My mind wandered to what I had said earlier to Sherlock. If we want to find him, we have to search. That puts us at risk. To eliminate the risk, we must be tprepared. So, I thought to myself, a smile quickly spreading across my face. We have to train.

I focused instead of sitting on Tumblr (on this website were many 'fangirls'. I have joined their ranks. I also discovered 'JohnLock'. I have three words to say about it. I ship it.) all day, to training. I still listened to my music, but while I worked out. I was a pretty decent fighter on the streets, I could take down opponents my size (and smaller of course). But now, now I was ready. I would make my way to Jim myself.

I trained for three months until I was ready. Completely ready. I ate healthily and trained everyday. On that morning, The 28th of November, I walked upstairs for my morning tea and sat down in my chair, looking at John. "I'm going after Jim today." I told him in response to his 'good morning.' He had been at Baker Street with a now very pregnant Mary for two days, their house was being remodeled.

He spit out his tea and looked at me wide-eyed. "Natalie, no, you can't, he'll, no." He stammered before regaining his voice. "Jesus Christ, Natalie. SHERLOCK." He turned his head and yelled. Father made his way into the room, his eyebrows raised.

"She wants to go to Moriarty." John told him, still obviously stunned. Sherlock just looked over at me and raised his eyes. With this gesture he asked, 'Well, can you?'

I nodded. And so did he. "Well, John. She says she can. I believe her." He turned to look at me. "So, any information?"

"Location. And..." I grin, thinking to my meetings and conversations with Mark. We're still together, and he's turned out to be useful. "...An inside man." Sherlock raised his eyebrows again, but this was not a questioning look, but a look of confirmation. 'Mark?', his eyebrows asked.

'Mark.' My nod told him. Father seemed satisfied, and a little hesitant. John just seemed angry.

"You two and your bloody silent talk!" John shouted, he didn't always understand father and I's, well, lets just say 'communication method'. "What the hell, is going on?!" he demanded, Sherlock explained to him and he just looked at me in disbelief. "Natalie Holmes, you are just like your father."

"Nah, I see you in me John. Yea, Dad is more prominent, I mean really, don't act surprised, but I can see you too. And Me." I smiled at him. "I can see both of you when I look in the mirror. You're in my head. Forever. I'm calculating and clever, I can deduce a man in seven seconds, and I can beat The Great Sherlock Holmes at Cluedo." I winked at Dad, who had a sweet little smile on his face. "But I'm loyal. I wasn't loyal before. I eventually came to trust Molly, but I wasn't Loyal like I am now. Because I've watched you. I'm a decent doctor and I can break every bone in the body and name them at the same time. I now can make a proper cuppa and learned about love. You helped to raise me too. Don't you dare forget it." I smiled to John, who stood from his chair and hugged me, the tears just barely lining his eyes.

"I won't, Natalie. Never." He stepped back to look at me, the grin still on his face. "It has been a pleasure to see you grow up. An absolute pleasure. Now, get to your mission. I ask one thing. Come home, or I'll have to kill the bastard myself." I kissed him and Father on the cheek and went down stairs to change. I put on my ninja suit and looked in the mirror, the ponytail sitting high on my head, the black hair cascading down my shoulder. I looked into my own eyes, and in them I saw a fierce fire. I walked out of my room and to the door. John was lead Sherlock down the stairs, clicking the clip of his gun into place. I grinned and opened the door. Then, I texted Mark.

We're coming.