Walk The Line

Chapter 15

After chasing after 'Golem', the trio headed back to Baker Street. A faint handprint had begun to appear around Amelia's neck, also feeling tender. John sighed in a form of defeat as he threw himself down in his usual spot. Amelia tiredly dragged herself over to the sofa, placing herself down on the right side, closest the window. She liked peering out, it was a small habit of hers. Sherlock threw his coat on the sofa, nearly hitting Amelia, as he paced the space in front of her, his thinking face on. However, John began to get agitated, irritated by his behaviour.

"Could you please just stand still?" John finally huffed out, staring at his friend with slightly wider eyes than usual. Sherlock stopped, turning to John as he furrowed his brows. Amelia watched the two, not wanting there to be another one of their petty arguments.

"Sherlock, do you have any idea... How dangerous this is getting?" John spoke quietly, lowering his voice in front of his sister, however, it wasn't low enough as she rolled her eyes slightly at her older brother.

"Yes?" Sherlock responded in a questioning tone, unsure on what John was getting at. John took a deep breath trying to calm himself down, standing up to face Sherlock.

"No." John spoke firmly, shaking his head. "That was a close call back there. Amelia could've died!" He raised his voice, panic seeping into his angry tone.

"But she didn't." Sherlock spoke with his usual confidence, which just irritated John further.

"But she could have!" He exclaimed, alerting Amelia it was about to get physical if Sherlock proceeded to say stupid things. She got up from her comfy spot on the leather sofa, rushing forward to stand between them, sending Sherlock a warning look saying 'don't mutter another word'.

"John, its fine." Amelia turned to her brother, her eyes softening. "Honestly, I knew this was going to be dangerous, just like you did."

"That's not the point!" John shook his head. "What if it had been me? How would you have reacted?" He tried to get her to understand. She sighed, knowing full well he was right. She stayed silent.

"I'll be back in a bit." John headed towards the door as Amelia spun round after him.

"Where are you going?" She asked, her eyes pleading for him to stay.

"For a late night walk." He spoke before disappearing down the stairs. Amelia looked down at her feet, feeling guilty. She never wanted John to worry about her. She always put herself in situations growing up that he had to get her out of. She had a habit of attracting trouble.

"He'll calm down eventually." Sherlocks' cool voice broke the thick silence. "He always does." Amelia bit her lip, sitting herself back down on the sofa. Sherlock turned to face the fireplace, his eyes scanning the mantel piece, his eyes occasionally flicking to the mirror to see Amelia's reflection, watching her. After a few minutes of quiet, Amelia spoke up.

"Perhaps I should go."

Sherlocks brows furrowed as he spun round, staring at the woman.

"John will be fine. He doesn't need you running after him." He tried to reassure her.

"No." She shook her head, causing Sherlock to give her a confused expression. "I mean go home." Sherlock stood still, unsure on what to say or do.

"Don't make rash decisions." He tried to play it off, rationalising it. "You're upset, feeling guilty, but do you really think leaving London is the solution?" Amelia stated up at him and shrugged, causing him to roll his eyes at her.

"I was always the sibling to get themselves in unintentional trouble." She spoke fondly, remembering memories from her childhood. "Mum would always catch me doing something I shouldn't, whilst John was usually come along and try to take the blame." She laughed lightly. "I remember this one time, I was probably about ten or eleven, I accidentally managed to get stuck in a tree." Sherlock stood still, listening to her story. "And no one knew where I had gone. They were searching for hours and hours, until finally John found me and ran back to get my mum and dad." She shook her head at the memory. "God, I was grounded for weeks. And John never left my side. Always making sure I didn't get myself into trouble." Her smile slowly faded. She didn't want to be a burden or responsibility. She then realised they were still on a case, a deadly one at that.

"Sorry, ignore me, you're on a case." She wiped a tear that had escaped, standing up as she stared at Sherlock who hadn't moved or said a word since she began speaking. "Any ideas?"

"No need for ideas." He stated. "I've solved it." He spoke casually as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You've solved it?" She inquired. "Then why aren't you doing something about it?!" She exclaimed, her mind floating to the pour soul who had a bomb strapped to them.

"I already did." He spoke calmly. "About seven minutes ago." He then picked up his coat, causing Amelia to furrow her brows. He headed towards the door, Amelia starting to follow, however, he sharply turned, preventing her from moving further.

"You stay here. You need rest." He told her, his tone firm, ordering almost. Amelia raised an eyebrow.

"I want to come." She told him sincerely.

"No. You stay here."

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" She narrowed her eyes, her voice getting more defensive.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes." He raised his eyebrows, a smug look plastering itself on his face. "And considering the last outing we had you got attacked by a giant serial killer, I would suggest you stay here, keeping out of trouble." He left her with that, leaving the flat as he traveled out the door and into a taxi.

Amelia was beyond annoyed. She couldn't believe he had spoken to her like that. Although, she also could believe it. It was Sherlock Holmes, high functioning sociopath, after all. She huffed, storming into her brother's room, where she stored her suitcase as she started to pack away her things.

Amelia knew she was acting like a teenager. But she also knew how much she didn't want to make John feel he had to watch over her. She could handle things herself. Or at least she tried to convince herself. She knew Sherlock could see right through her. She felt it. She knew that he knew she felt like a burden. Yes, he made a good point, but she was too angry at herself to see it.

Amelia sighed, finally zipping up the case as she pulled it out of the room, wheeling it across the floor. However, she stopped in her tracks as she heard a creak from the stairs. Her heart beat quickened, her breaths becoming shallow. She didn't call out, standing completely still in the kitchen, gripping onto the metal suitcase handle. She waited, seeing if there was another noise, however, nothing came. She shook her head, mentally cursing herself for panicking over a sound. She proceeded into the living room, dragging the case as she approached the desk, deciding to leave a message for John. She grabbed a pen and a scrap piece of paper as she began to write.

'I'm sorry - Amelia'

Short and sweet, she concluded, deciding to place it on top of the table beside his armchair. As she stood back up, her eyes lifted towards the mirror, as she jumped, seeing a figure standing in the door way. She spun round, stepping backwards as she peered at the intruder. Their eyes wondered down to the suitcase.

"Going somewhere?"