Can't Stay Away (BBC Sherlock) -2-

5. Bits and Pieces

Unfortunately, Bayley got a call in the morning, so I had the house to myself. I was going to hunt for answers from my dad, no matter how annoyingly persistent I had to be.

I'd sent a text when I'd first gotten up. I simply put, Listen to the voicemail I left, please. If not, let me know if we can Skype. You know why I want to talk. I wondered how Dad was taking Sherlock's return. I doubted he was delighted to have the consulting detective back. I was sure a part of him deep down was, but if he was anything like me, I knew how Dad felt: betrayed, outraged.

I mean, Sherlock had convinced him he was dead for two years. How do you forgive someone who pulled such a big thing on you? I knew Sherlock was no longer in my good books. True, he may have helped me find my father, but he nearly drove my dad into suicide with his "suicide." That asshole.

I leapt for my phone when it went off. My heart thudded in my ribs when it was from my dad. Hurriedly, I grabbed the laptop and logged into Skype. I waited with a fidgety body.

The first thing I noticed was that the background was not Dad's place. It looked eerily familiar. The next thing was that he shaved off the moustache. I couldn't help but beam at that. Finally, somebody knocked some sense into him!

"Yes, I finally got rid of it," Dad deadpanned. "Happy now?"

"Very." I leaned forward. "Tell me what you can. And where are you anyway?"

"You know where I am, Rachel."

The pieces clicked into my head. "You're back there already? Is—is he back too?"

Dad nodded.

My eyes narrowed as I took in more of his appearance. "Did something happen to you? You look a bit shaken."

"Funny you should mention that..."

"Tell me everything from the beginning. When did you know?"

"The night before it broke worldwide. It wasn't a pleasant time."

"I can imagine. Did you give him a few good punches for me?" I tried to joke. Dad glared at me. "Sorry. Continue."

"I made my position clear when he tried to get me back into the old routine."

"Well, you must've not made it strong enough if you're back there."

"I went back to work the day after—yesterday. Then things got a little...intense."

"Your father was ambushed, drugged, and shoved under a bonfire," called a deep voice.

Dad sighed. Clearly, Sherlock wasn't supposed to give away those details.

My eyes bulged. "You were put under a bonfire? By who? Why?"

"We don't know," said my dad.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'll live, Rach. Don't worry about me so much."

"I should considering you're slowly going back towards your old life." I frowned.

"He's not telling you everything, Rachel," the voice shouted again.

"I can see that," I retorted, hoping the bastard could hear me. "Look, whether or not he's telling me the truth, the good thing is that you're okay. Mary wasn't involved, was she?"