You Hear Me, Mr. Holmes

4

I awoke with a start. I felt something cold against my cheek: fingers. I recognised them as Sherlock's, from when he had touched my hand before. I still wasn't sure what I had done with Sherlock in that white mind palace room. After all, the mind palace was for storing memories, not some sort of superhuman connections. It shouldn't even have been possible. He must know that too, considering he is by my bed again. Based on the fact that the only breathing noises I could hear were Sherlock's, I assumed we were alone, and some time had passed since I had last been awake, as I could now feel

Suddenly his hand left my face, and I heard him inhale sharply. "You are awake now. Your brainwaves just changed." I inwardly smiled; he was as clever as he appeared online. I paused and twitched my finger. I was able to move it much more than I had before. It seems Sherlock has given me renewed hope and strength. In fact, I felt better and more awake than I had in a long time.

I parted my lips and breathed, "talk." He paused and I pictured him smirking.

"You are Elizabeth Snow, 21-years-old. You are from America, somewhere on the west coast, though hard to tell where due to the fact you have been indoors in bed for a while. You were an orphan and your sister is your only known relative, whom you presumably love very much. That's enough of that though, as I expect you already know that I know this." He paused. "You seem to be intelligent, and you probably have a highly developed memory palace, based on our...interaction."

"Why..." I managed to whisper. "...can't I wake up?"

"I don't know. And I don't like not knowing." He said briskly. "Clearly you are conscious. Relatively healthy. There should be nothing stopping you from getting up and walking out of here." He paused, and I imagined him standing there, talking to a seemingly sleeping woman, and I smirked; or what I could manage, it was more of a slight twitch of my mouth. He continued, "you are certainly a mystery, Miss Elizabeth Snow."

I smiled, but my mouth barely twitched. "Hand," I whispered. I felt his hand on mine, and concentrated on closing my grip on it. My fingers obeyed and I held on tight, and I turned my thoughts to that strange white room.

Sherlock sharply inhaled, and took a few steps back, pulling my hand with him. "What is that? I can feel that." I heard the scrape of a chair and I assumed he sat down. "How are you doing this? It is like you are pulling at my brain, which shouldn't be possible." His voice slowly faded and I heard is head slump back onto the chair, at the same moment my vision went white and my mind blank.

In what could've been anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, I became aware of my surroundings again. It was the white room! I had been successful. I wasn't sure myself how it worked, but I somehow knew how to tap into this odd connection. I spun around to face the open room and Sherlock was standing across the small room from me.

"It worked!" I exclaimed as I walked over to stand in front of him. "Whatever this weird mind palace room is."

"This is groundbreaking," Sherlock looked around the room, then down at me, his eyes wide, almost like a child on Christmas morning.

"Was I able to stump the famous consulting detective?" I smirked at him. "Whatever this is, I don't think this is the time to figure it out. I need your help to find out why I am immobilized."

He lightly shook his head as if to clear it, "Right. You are not paralyzed, physically you are not injured. There are no signs of brain damage. I have a few theories; has there been anyone in your room you didn't recognize?"

"No..." I pause, thinking. I close my eyes going over my memories since I've been conscious. There was something, what was that? I think hard about it, and suddenly it comes to me. Early on, when I was still slipping in and out of consciousness, there was an instance I had filed away as a dream.

I heard heavy footsteps enter my room, and recall darkness on my eyelids, so it was nighttime. The person, presumably a man due to a grunt I heard from him when he closed the door. The man shuffled up to my bed and I heard a tiny click, like metal tube connectors being disconnected. There was an immediate release on tension on a small spot arm. I became drowsy, and the last thing I heard before falling asleep was the slight crinkle of liquid in a bag.

"Yes!" I looked up at Sherlock. "There was a man I remember only once. He came in, must've disconnected an IV bag, then connected something else." I connected the details I had recalled. "How could he do that without the nurses and doctors noticing? There are cameras in the rooms."

"He must have been posing as a Doctor or visitor. No security guard would suspect a Doctor checking a patients medicine or a visitor visiting a coma patient." Sherlock paused. "You have been in a coma for a while Miss Snow."

"Call me Elizabeth." I replied.

"Is there anything else you can remember?" He inquired. "From that night, or some other odd happenings?"

I stood for a moment pondering, when I noticed Sherlock was beginning to fade. "I guess we can't hold this for long, huh?"

He glanced down at himself, then back at me. "Odd," he stated, bringing his hand in front of his face. "I will solve this mystery." He looked back at me. "Elizabeth." And he was gone. I willed myself back to the waking world, and I faded away.

I came back to myself laying in bed, and Sherlock shifting in the chair beside me. "I must go now." I heard him stand up, and he placed my hand back on my bed, as it was dangling off the side of the bed from when he was holding it.

"Thank you." I whisper. Sherlock paced across the room and exited. I mentally sighed, glad to finally be closer to waking up.