Classroom 223-a Sherlock fanfiction

Chapter 13 (Rosie's POV)

"Sherlock, that tickles!" I laugh as he tries to move the violin correctly onto my shoulder. "Sorry. Hang on, that's right Rosie, just rest it there." He smiles as he adjusts the violin a bit more. "Remember what I told you? Rest your chin on the chin rest. I thought we could try something easy today. 'Le amour est un oiseux rebelle' by Bizet. I know how much you enjoy playing it." He says clapping excitedly and handing me the bow. I place it in my grip and gently rest it against the strings. "Excellent. Ready?" He asks. "Ready!" I say triumphantly. "Ok now. 1, 2, 3, and..." I slide the bow across the strings fluently, hitting the right notes, making the melody come to life. Sherlock watches me in delight, dancing and twirling around to the rhythm which makes me giggle. "Oh. Am I really that embarrassing?" He says sadly, faking an upset look. "No Dad, you're fantastic." I say happily resting my violin on the stand. "You played Brilliantly Rosie, I really am proud. We should show John that, I think he would be delighted. Do you want a piggyback?" He asks proudly, spreading his arms open. "Yes please!"
"Alright then, hop on." He lifts me up and places me on top of his shoulders, grabbing my legs. "Ready?"
"Yup."
"Right then. Off we go, the flight is on!" He calls out as he begins to pace around the flat, making 'whooosh' noises as he does. I outstretch my arms like wings as we glide throughout the flat. After a few minutes, Sherlock lifts me carefully back down onto the sofa and takes a seat beside me looking worn out. "Ah, that was fun. Talk about getting some exercise." He laughs between breaths. The door opens unexpectedly and John enters, carrying a bag of shopping and some milk. "Hi Dad!" I say happily, glad to see him. "Hello darling. Looks like you two had fun." He says with a happy smile placing the bag of shopping down and joining me and Sherlock on the couch. "Oh, you got the milk." Expresses Sherlock, surprised. "Yes I did." Dad replies, planting a kiss on Sherlock's lips. This annoys me slightly. "Hey! What about me? You two are always kissing." I say annoyed, folding my arms. "That's because we love each other, and you of course!" Laughs Dad as himself and Sherlock join me in a warm hug. "We love you Rosie."
"I love you guys too."

My eyes slowly lift open and I have to blink several times in order to clear my blurred vision. A throbbing pain comes from my head and I feebly lift my arm to brush the side of my temple. It feels slightly sticky and stings to the touch. Bringing my quivering hand back down, I notice faint splotches of crimson splattered on my fingertips. Great, I have a blow to the head. I am sprawled across an ice cold stony surface and it looks to me as if I'm in a cramped room with a single lightbulb illuminating the space. Placing my hands on the cold surface and using all my strength, I slowly heave myself up so I am slumped against the back wall. Every part of me is aching and I can barley recall how I have ended up in this state. My brain is still like froth and I can't think straight, I feel so groggy. I must stand up and find a way out. Come on Rosie, you can do this. Forcing all my weight into my knees, I gingerly move every inch of my body up into a standing position. I have to lean against the wall for support as my body feels so heavy. It's like waking up in the morning but a million times worse. Right, I need to focus. I shift my sore eyes to the front of the room and see a metal door with no lock, keyhole or anything. How strange. Taking my steps one at a time, I approach the door and the first thing I do is try the handle. It unlocks straight away. Well that's stupidly useful. Heart pounding against my chest, I cautiously pull it ajar which makes it creak loudly. Silence. Before I can take a step further, an extremely loud chiming noise rings through my ears, causing the whole area to vibrate. Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong. Exactly like a clock. As soon as the noises stop, I continue to swing open the door and step out. Then it hits me. I'm in a giant clock face. How did I get here? The surrounding room is huge, it's covered in moving gears, cogs winding round and at the end, a giant illuminated clock face. It ticks loudly as the long arms make their way around the face. This reminds me that I'm still wearing my watch. I peer down at it, however it's barely readable as the glass has been scratched to bits. I can only just make it out, the time is 10:30 PM. To my right is another metal door and out of curiosity, I go to see if I am able to unlock it. To my surprise, I am able to open it. Why are all the doors open? Does someone want me to get out? As soon as I pull it ajar, a huge gust of cold wind escapes and hits me right in the face. This door must lead outside. Embracing myself for the cold, I swing the door wide open. My mouth gapes wide open in shock. Not only am I'm in a clock face, I'm inside Big Ben. Right at the top. On the other side of the door is a balcony leading out into the bright London skyline. Warily, I proceed out into the fresh, yet extremely chilly air, and walk across the balcony. I pull my blazer over my chest as a protective shield against the wind. Turning around, I am met with the gigantic clock face of Big Ben which towers over London city. Why am I here? Wait. The memory slowly comes fleeting back into my mind as I begin to remember what happened. It was Mr Woodbridge! He tricked me by drugging my results with chloroform! But why would he do that? Not only that but when he came back into the room, he sounded completely different. He had an Irish accent all of a sudden. Who is he? Out of all my thinking and desperate questions, I have become completely oblivious to the fact that there is someone on the balcony with me, observing the great city below.