Classroom 223-a Sherlock fanfiction

Chapter 17 (Rosie's POV)

"Rosie? Hello? I was on the phone, sorry-did you fall?" A strange voice says panicked, tapping me on the shoulder repeatedly. What? My eyelids stretch open and I blink several times to clear my vision. My whole body is throbbing, especially the side of my head. As my vision clears, I turn to see Mr Woodbridge knelt beside me. Wait..."Oh thank God! I was worried there for a second, I don't know how long you've been out." He says worriedly offering me his hand for assistance. I reluctantly take it in my grasp and he helps me to lift back up and stand on my feet. Immediately, I stumble to the side as my legs are screaming to sit back down. Mr Woodbridge steadies me by the shoulder and takes me over to my desk to sit down. Hang on, I'm back in my classroom. How did I get here? I was... I was...somwhere high? Upon taking a second glance at Mr Woodbridge I suddenly realise that it's him. I recoil back in fright and make a grab for the scissors conveniently placed beside me and point them at Mr Woodbridge. Or should I say Moriarty. He looks shocked and moves his arms out in front of me. "Rosie, put the scissors down. Just-I know you're confused, you're suffering from mild concussion after your fall." He says sternly lowering his hands down. "Please give them to me Rosie, you don't know what you're doing." He gestures for me to hand him the scissors. "No? Why should I?! You're James Moriarty! You drugged me twice, held me captive, put me at gunpoint, broke my phone and now you've brought me back here just to confuse me! So no, why should I? Get away from me!" I ramble threateningly, now stood firmly on the ground. Mr Woodbridge looks mortified but keeps his ground. "Jesus...," he brings his hand to his face, "let me explain. You're suffering from concussion after having a fall. It's causing you all of this confusion, now please give me the scissors, I don't want you to harm yourself or me." He pleads calmly stretching out his arm. "What do you mean? What happened?" I question starting to lower the scissors. Now I'm really confused. "I didn't see but when I was out on the phone, you must have fallen over. I don't think you would remember. Maybe you slipped or tripped on something? You must of definitely hit your head hard due to that blow on your temple," I draw my hand to my temple and feel a lump, "yes, and I was on the phone for twenty minutes. Sorry it was really important and when I came back in I noticed you were unconscious. I'm sorry, I really am." Mr Woodbridge explains slowly. My phone, Moriarty threw it over the balcony. I rummage through my blazer pocket only to find my crumpled timetable. "I don't believe you. My phone. You took it from me and chucked it over the balcony. Where is it?" I ask raising the scissors back up. Yes, I know it's a lame weapon but it can still do some damage. "It's there on the desk where you left it." He gestures over to his desk. No, I'm certain that my phone was in my pocket. "Come on, I need to take you to first aid. You've been out cold for too long and the concussion you've received is quite severe." He pleads me but I'm not falling for it. "No, I'm not going anywhere with you!" I shout backing away. Mr Woodbridge sighs impatiently. "I'm losing my patience Rosie and you wouldn't want to see me angry." He steps closer to me. Wait, what if I am going crazy? What if it is just concussion? But everything with Moriarty felt so real. Then again, so do dreams. Slowly, I place the scissors back down on the table and see Mr Woodbridge's face light up. "See? That wasn't so hard was it? Right, let's go." He makes a start for the door but I stop him in his tracks. "Can I call my father first?" I ask. "Well we need to-"
"Please?"
"Fine but make it quick." He picks up my phone and carefully chucks it to me. As soon as I catch it, I quickly call dad. Ring ring. Ring ring. This is the Vodafone voicemail for- I angrily end the call. Great. "Right you had your chance. First aid room. Now." Mr Woodbridge demands. "I haven't called Sherlock yet." I say putting my hand up. Sharply, Mr Woodbridge grabs onto my wrist tightly and yanks it down looking me straight in the eye. I stare right into his sinister brown eyes, surely he had blue eyes. Not only that but his hair was blonde, now it's brown too. "This. Is. What. Happens. When. You. Test. My. Patience. Dear." He says bitterly through clenched teeth. "Let go of me!" I yell pulling his grip with my free hand. He squeezes my wrist even tighter which causes my hand to grow bright red. "Are you coming with me or not Rosie?" He questions indignantly. What am I going to do? "Fine, I'm coming. Just let go of my wrist." I say defeated. "That's more like it." He releases his grip and I pull back my wrist massaging it with my other hand. I mindfully follow him out of the classroom door and through the corridors to the first aid room, neither of us stir. There are many things in the first aid room which I can put to use and defend myself. Mr Woodbridge takes a seat opposite me and looks down to the floor. "Sorry-I've just had some issues in the past. Your wrist alright?" He asks apologetically looking up from the floor. "Fine...thanks." I say awkwardly removing my wrist from view. "Why did you think I was-um- Mori what's it?" He questions me. "Oh-er never mind. Just an old friend of my dad."
"You mean Sherlock?"
"Yes and also John."
"Ah, right."
"Sorry back then. It's just my dream felt so real."
"Oh I'm sure that happens to everybody when they dream."
"But-um- you see, I have a mind palace. It's quite complicated to explain but Sherlock taught me how to use it. So I can sometimes get confused with whether it's a dream or just...reality." Something clicks in my head, the horrible truth. This isn't real. But how can I be sure?."I should go...I-I...need to find my parents." I say pretending to be worried and standing up. "Oh, well Rosie I hate to break it to you but you aren't going anywhere." Mr Woodbridge says darkly blocking the doorway. "And why is that?"
"Because we have an important matter to discuss." His mouth falls straight as he raises his eyebrows stupidly.  "Not important." I retaliate. "I would think twice about that dear." He says darkly, his true Irish accent merging through. I must wake up, escape my mind palace. "You can't harm me. This isn't real. None of it at all."
"Well dear, you've gotten yourself into a bit of a tricky situation you see. Wake up and you'll be back with me. Stay here and you'll be stuck with me. Your choice."
"At least if I wake up, I'll know that my parents are coming for me."
"Well, they're in for a big surprise when I return."
"Surely."
"You're letting them down Rosie..."
"Get out of my head!"
"It's quite handy having a mind palace or a hard drive however, each one has a virus and say hello to it."
"Hello." I reply sarcastically. "Oh that's clever. I like you, you're so funny. Do have any idea how bored and lonely it gets being me? You have Sherlock and John, I have no one."
"Are you making me an offer?"
"Not quite dear. You're not as clever as I thought you'd be. Must come from your mummy dearest." He smiles towards me eerily as he knows exactly what he's doing. "Don't you dare speak about my mother!" I yell furiously. He's hit one of my pressure points. James smirks proudly over what he has accomplished. "Didn't daddy ever tell you that once the virus infects your mind it won't leave? You can't stop me now." He beams melodically. "You're right James, all I have to do is wake up." The idea makes me shudder but I'm going to eventually wake up anyway. "Ciao Rosie Watson." James says with slight disgust. "Catch you later."