Unfixed

TWENTY ONE

"Pissing in the Fireplace"

By time Genesis reached the doorstep beside Speedy's cafe the blood had gathered around her lip and dried considerably. Taking a deep breath she takes notice of the dirty brass '221B' and the matching door knocker beneath it. Taking hold of the slanted ovular hoop she turns it sharply so it was straight before hammering it down onto the wood of the door. For a moment she looks around the street, smoothing back the straggly strands of hair that were escaping her ponytail.

The door opened, a triangle of light illuminating her and revealing a short elderly woman with dull copper hair. She looks up and gasps at the state of Genesis' face.

"Hi," she croaks out, licking her dry lips, "I'm here for Sherlock Holmes?" The door at the top of the staircase opens and a man with short sandy hair peers downstairs.

"Are you a client?" The woman, Mrs Hudson, asks looking back to the man as he begins making his way down the stairs. Glancing between the two she recognises the man as Doctor John Watson, Sherlock's colleague. Pursing her lips and closing her eyes as a stabbing pain strike her head she stretches her neck before looking back between the two with a strained smile.

"I'm a friend." John scoffs and shakes his head. Genesis glares at him. "A very old friend." Sighing and shaking his head, John approaches her and offers his hand out. Nodding and handing him her case she followed him upstairs, Mrs Hudson following a few steps behind.

When she stepped over the threshold and into the cosy flat the first thing her eyes settled on was the skull on the mantle. Her skull. She glanced around, noting the two floor to ceiling windows, the pocket knife stuck in the mantle, the yellow smiley face distorted by bullet holes. There was a jar of pickled thumbs on the counter top in the kitchen and science equipment splayed across the table. She looked from the kitchen finally to the man she hadn't seen in twenty seven years. The man who didn't need her.

"What happened this time?" Shrugging, she smirks and refuses to divert her gaze from him. He sat, legs crossed, in a sunken leather arm chair, elbows resting on his knees and hands steepled below his chin. She recognised that pose. He glanced up when she didn't reply and gave her entire body a quick glance. "Have you made scarring your face a habit?" With a scowl she subconsciously reaches up to trail her finger across the old bump of a scar along her face.

"Have you made denouncing friends a habit yet, or was that just me?" He frowns as John shuffles in with her dark green suitcase. Both of them ignore John and Mrs Hudson's glances. Sherlock lowers his hands and jumps from his seat, towering over her significantly.

"Why are you back?" Crossing her arms over her chest, she straightens her posture and raises an eyebrow at him.

"You thought I was dead. Have you grown?" Scoffing and rolling his eyes Sherlock turns back around and falls into his chair. Smirking at his exasperation she wanders further into the room, glancing around the room once again and motions to the open laptop. "Researching Dad's place? What's he done this time?" She narrows his eyes at her again causing her to back away, raising her hands in mock surrender she turns to John. "Can I borrow your shower- and first aid kit if you have one? I'm assuming you do due to your... line of work." John stutters and hesitates before nodding.

"Yeah, uh, yeah." He points down the hall and digs an old green box from under the sink. Thanking him she takes her case and the kit before heading for the bathroom.

She didn't spend long showering and pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans and a black hoodie. As she prepared the essentials to begin stitching up her lip the handle on the door jiggles. Jumping slightly she yells out that the room was occupied before threading the needle and carefully sewing her split lip together. Offering herself a tired smile in the mirror she packs her dirty clothes in an empty pocket of her suitcase, collects her hairbrush and exits the room. As she exits the room she suddenly becomes aware of the two security guards standing by the entrance to the lounge and Sherlock and John looking extremely uncomfortable while they stare straight ahead. The sound of zipping breaks through the room and she soon witnesses Charles Magnussen walking away from the fireplace.

"The United Kingdom, huh?" He notices her and offers a small smile while he takes a wipe from one of the guards. "Petri dish to the Western world." Genesis slips around one of the guards and looks over to the fireplace immediately understanding what happened while she was in the bathroom. He glances briefly at Sherlock. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need those letters, so I'm keeping them." Dropping the wipe on the floor Charles nods to everyone in the room. "Goodbye." He turns as if to leave, then turns back and put his hand into his jacket's inside breast pocket. "Anyway..." He chuckles and reveals the edge of a package. "They're funny."

Once everyone was out of the room John relaxes and turns to glance at the fire place.

"Jesus!" He exclaims exasperatedly. Genesis, gaping slightly in shock at seeing how her father dealing with his business, points to the fireplace.

"Did he just-" John clears his throat and nods while Sherlock simply stares into space with a small smile on his face

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?" Sherlock steps forwards and Genesis sighs and takes a seat on the sofa by the far wall.

"Wh... There was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind, yeah." John stutters, gesturing to the fireplace noticing that his friend wasn't exactly paying him any attention. Of course, the question was rhetorical, it was always rhetorical with Sherlock or he simply didn't necessarily care for the answer.

"Exactly - when he showed us the letters." Sighing and shaking her head, Genesis slaps her hands onto her legs before standing slowly.

"Well, as intriguing as this is I have people to see. Conversations to have. I will see you all later."

"I'll text you!" Sherlock yells after her.

"Please don't!" Jogging down the stairs, Genesis yells out to Mrs Hudson to not wait up before vacating the building and opening the door to the black car which had pulled up outside. Facing forwards as it pulls away from the curb she looks to her right and smiles.