Classroom 223-a Sherlock fanfiction

Chapter 4 (Rosie's POV)

I had a lot of fun in maths tutor apart from the fact that I was in severe pain. But hey, I pulled through. It took a while afterwards to get in contact with Dad, but as soon as he heard he immediately rushed to school and brought me home. He is extremely worried about me and infuriated with Carly as is Sherlock. I am currently propped up in bed with my favourite feather pillow and my lovely thick duvet keeping me warm as Dad holds a wet flannel up to my cheek. He has double checked all my injuries and made a conclusion that I am only bruised and as for my back, I need stitches. Meanwhile, Sherlock is sat on the end of my bed playing 'Morning Mood' by Greig on his violin. His fluent way of playing is extremely soothing and he can play any request I ask for. "You're not going to school for the next few days, you hear me?" Dad tells me firmly. He is really agitated and got especially mad when I had told him the story but was thankful for Mr Woodbridge's actions. "I know. I don't want to either." I reply angrily. By now Sherlock has stopped playing his violin and has taken my hand, holding it softly trying his best to comfort me. It is working. "Can I still help you with the case on Monday?" I ask Sherlock convincingly. "Alright. You won't have to do much walking anyway. We will all get the cab." Sherlock replies, still keeping his hand wrapped softly around mine. Dad gives him the 'approval look'.

I hear muffled talking outside my bedroom door and a 'hoo hoo' complete with two knocks as Mrs Hudson enters. As soon as she lays eyes on me her mouth curves and sympathy engulfs her constance. "Oh Rosie dear!" She expresses in shock as she brings a tray of tea to my side. "I heard everything from John, he's ever so worried. I hope you're alright sweetheart." Tears threaten to escape Mrs Hudson's eyes as she sits on the chair beside me. "Honestly, I'm alright Mrs H. I just got a few bruises and need stitching up." I say smiling, trying to reassure her but I'm not sure it's working. "Oh, if I was much younger I would be kicking their backsides for you." She laughs, trying to hide the fact that a few tears have slid down her cheeks. It pains me a lot to see her like this, I don't want her to cry. "Mrs H, please don't cry! I'm fine. Here." I say worriedly, passing her the box of tissues to my side. "Thank you dear," she dabs at her eyes, "it's just, I... oh, I want you safe, and John and Sherlock love you so much... your mother." She sniffs, stopping in her tracks at the word 'mother' . My stomach pings. Dad bursts in the door, presumably after hearing Mrs Hudson crying. He looks perplexed at first and then sees Mrs Hudson crying beside me. "Oh! Mrs Hudson. Here, here." He says kneeling at her side wiping her tears away with the tissue. "She'll be fine in a week. Don't worry about it."