Under And Over: The Finale

Everyone Loves Emma

"It's true," said Casey to Eleanor. "She gets the best treatment here. Treated like a VIP, very important prisoner, and has the least amount of ties. She has no friends, and people are afraid of her. Gets the most visitors, has been everywhere in this prison. Knows things some guards don't even know."

Eleanor laughed. "I don't believe it."

"Who did you kill?" Eleanor and Casey dropped their comfort when Emma suddenly appeared beside them.

"What?" Casey questioned.

"Not you, Gallagher. Jordan. Who did you kill?"

Eleanor did not let Emma's demeanour ruin her own street cred. "How many names do you want?"

Emma laughed, putting Eleanor on edge. Eleanor dropped her eyebrows, ready to verbally attack, but Emma beat her to it. "Why did you do it? Want to know what blood looked like? What the stomach looked like? What the heart looked like? Want some extra cash? What did you want?"

Casey got up and left, obviously scared of Emma.

"Cut the crap," Eleanor said. "I've heard about you. Little Miss Perfect-"

"I prefer profound-"

"I don't care." Emma frowned, but Eleanor continued. "If you're as smart as they say you are, tell me who I killed."

With no hesitation, Emma answered. "Mom."

Eleanor laughed. "I never had a mom."

Emma giggled back, in a very mocking manner. "You had a sister though. A sister sixteen years older than you? Who took care of you because you didn't have a motherly figure? She's basically your mom. Is her name... Sophie?"

Eleanor visibly tensed up. "I don't know what game you're playing at, but I don't want to be a pawn."

"You're not," she quickly cut in. She needed Eleanor to be on her side, because Eleanor knew why Sherlock would soon come in to talk to her. "You're the most valuable player. I need you."

"Why?"

Before Emma could answer, a guard (the same as before) walked up to her. "Miss, you've got another visitor."
Eleanor scoffed as Emma walked back into the visitors room. With each and every footstep, Emma was taken less and less seriously. The noise of the other prisoners was quickly replaced by Eleanor's laugh, which would be permanently engraved in Emma's mind.

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"I really hate jail."

"I know, you tell me that every time I visit."

Instead of the big otter in a scarf that she was expecting, she instead got a grieving man, one she actually did confront. "How are you doing John? I'm so sorry by the way. How's Rosamund?"

John hunched, clenched the phone tighter than before, knuckles turned white. "Crying, always. I don't know what's more annoying, living with Sherlock or being woken up in the middle of the night from a baby crying." Even though he missed Mary and still felt bad about cheating he managed to laugh at what he just said. John had a fantastic way with words.

Instead of smiling, Emma let out a growl, concerning John. "Is everything alright?"

"She won't talk to me. Can you read me your last blog post, but add some detail so I can imagine it like I was beside Sherlock? He's too technical."

"I haven't written any more blog posts. You know that."

Emma scoffed and shook her head. "She won't talk to me," she muttered.