✔️THE HEART| Sherlock Holmes

Five

Marnie jumped in shock as gunshots sounded through 221B Baker Street, clattering out of her bedroom door and meeting an equally shocked John on her way as they raced one another down the stairs to the sitting room. Marnie instantly relaxed as she found that it wasn't an intruder at all- it was just Sherlock Holmes with a gun...Shooting the wall where a yellow spray-painted smiley face beamed.

"What the hell are you doing?" John roared and Marnie ran a hand over her face, abolishing all the stress that had swarmed inside of her as she sashayed across to the kitchen, away from the bickering pair and passed Sherlock who was still wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown, feet bare.

"Bored" Sherlock grumbled and the medic was quite naturally amused by his response, scoffing as she flicked the switch on the kettle.

"What?" John frowned, ears still ringing from the gunshots.

"Bored!" Sherlock roared, leaping to his feet and John cringed away from the doorway, protesting and being ignored as Sherlock shot the wall again.. And then, again, behind his back. "Bored! Bored" this time, John had the sense to pull the gun from the consulting detective's hands and Marnie sighed as her hands braced against the countertop, keeping her present in the apartment while her mind demanded to go somewhere else, to swirl away into distant memories. All that, from the sound of gunshots- she knew that that would disallow her from returning to the army any time soon. Each and every time she heard a shot, her mind swam with the sight of the bullet-ridden body of Bunny in her arms, blood splashing across his hands- or even Soo Lin Yao who she had been equally unable to help in any way.

Marnie's own mind was fighting against her and it was quite possibly the worst feeling she'd ever felt. She was terrified of fading away, of her mind taking her to a different place in the most inopportune of times. She didn't want to hallucinate the worst day of her life on repeat. But, she also refused to accept help which she knew everybody would recommend if ever she explained her current struggle to them.

Marnie didn't even notice when the kettle flicked off, the water boiled. She didn't register anything except the body of Bunny as he coughed out his last words 'Man down Marns', her hands tightened around the edge of the countertop, reminding herself that that's where she was, in the cold kitchen of 221B and not in the dusty Afghan desert with her dying friend in her arms. The slamming of the fridge shot through the memory, shattering it into a thousand pieces and she whipped around with a frown, swallowing her thoughts and memories as she saw a disgusted John reopen the fridge once more, just to promptly close it again.

"It's a head" he mumbled and his 'sister' frowned, having only just barely heard him, and what she had heard, she didn't quite understand. A head? In the fridge?... She wouldn't completely put it passed Sherlock Holmes but she really hoped John's eyes had been deceiving him on this occasion. "A severed head!" John roared, confirming what she had thought and she cringed away from the fridge, no longer fancying her cup of tea.

"Just tea for me, thanks." Sherlock quipped calmly and she raised an eyebrow at him as she trudged across the sitting room, dropping to sit on his thighs, right on his lap with a smirk. The detective narrowed her eyes at him and she just smirked. The sofa had become her seat in the past few weeks, just as the armchairs were unofficially designated to each of the men. Sherlock pretended not to notice her sat there, tensing his thighs as he shifted and she could feel the roll of his muscles under her legs. Marnie's attraction to him only grew with each passing day and with that- her confusion.

"There's a head in the fridge" John repeated for the third time, marching into the room with them and Sherlock didn't even bother to look across at him, eyes closed and hands locked together on his abdomen.

"Yes?"

"A bloody head!" it was apparent that John was outraged and Marnie couldn't help but completely agree- the thought of eating any of the food in that fridge now completely disgusted her... Sherlock Holmes was a very peculiar man indeed.