Chapter Text
Get away. Get far away.
Those were the words that a girl known by a subject number rather than a name kept silently repeating to herself. The words she'd been thinking over and over again for the past few weeks. She wasn't quite sure just how many days she'd been on the run; time hadn't really mattered to her very much lately. All she was concerned with was distancing herself from the nightmare that she'd had to call home all her life.
She'd think of the place to force her tired legs to keep going. She'd think of her "papa", of the other scientists and doctors who saw her as nothing more than a strange object to experiment on.
A few of those scientists were dead now. She'd had no choice but to kill them. It was the only thing she could do to escape.
While her previous living situation was awful, to say the least, her freedom was quite scary as well. Back at the laboratory, she at least knew what to expect most of the time. It was the only world she had known. But now that she was out... There was so much. So many new things to see, so many people. She was filled with a feeling of joy and terrifying uncertainty.
And this feeling intensified as she found herself roaming the streets of a city. The child had never been around so many people at once; she even saw some who appeared to be around her age, or younger.
She'd never been around such tall buildings, either; and she'd never seen this many vehicles. Her heart was pounding quickly, and she was so focused on staring up in wonder that she didn't notice, for a little while, the strange looks she kept receiving from passers-by. And when she did notice, she took a glance at her reflection in a shop window and realized why. She was filthy; she was only wearing the much-too-big T-shirt that a kind man had given her early on in her journey. She wasn't even wearing any shoes, and she had a few cuts and scrapes on her feet and legs. Nobody else here looked like that. Everyone was clean, and wearing clothes that fit.
"Young man? Are you alright?" an older woman asked, stopping on the sidewalk and looking at the child with concern. The girl wasn't offended by the woman's mistake; she was used to being mistaken for a boy.
What bothered her was whether or not this lady could be trusted. What if she called to report her and the bad men came? What if she was working with the bad men?
She couldn't bring herself to answer verbally; instead, she simply nodded once and speed-walked away, searching around for somewhere else to go. Somewhere away from the staring, away from the noise. It was all too overwhelming; she needed a moment to recover.
Soon, she found herself in an alleyway. It wasn't very comfortable, and she could still hear the sounds of the city, but at least she was out of sight for a bit as she sat down beside a dumpster, not caring about how dirty the ground was. She leaned back against the chilly wall and sighed. Her stomach ached with hunger, but she figured she could find some food later; right now she couldn't go back out there. She didn't want to have any more attention...
But someone had seen her go into the alleyway.
Whining about boredom. Using his flatmate's laptop without permission. Putting various body parts in the fridge in place of food. These were just a few things that John Watson was having to deal with from the consulting detective whom he shared a flat with, and he desperately needed a break from it.
So, he decided to take a walk to the store and hope that Sherlock Holmes didn't blow up their flat while he was away.
It was late in the afternoon. It was chilly out, but not any more so than usual. The man made his way down the sidewalk, briefly considering taking a cab to the store but deciding to go with his original plan of walking. The more time he spent out here the better.
But he didn't get very far when he heard a commotion coming from an alleyway.
He went to go investigate, but his pace quickened when he heard a child's voice. It sounded like a grown man was trying to hurt a child, and John was going to make him regret that...
Or that was the plan, until the man was thrown out of the alley before John could reach it. Thrown rather far, in fact. He landed on his back in the road, almost getting hit by a car that managed to come to a stop just in time. John's eyes widened, and he was even more shocked when he looked in the alley.
There was no tall, strong-looking person in there who could have defended the kid like that.
There was only the child. A thin, dirty child who looked as though they hadn't eaten or bathed in days. A child who had a death glare directed past John and towards their attacker. A stream of blood began to drip from his or her nose.
"Are... Are you alright?" John asked, deciding that someone else could deal with the man; he may be hurt, but he deserved it. The kid's expression softened as it landed on John...
"Why must London be so agonizingly boring?" Sherlock Holmes muttered as he sat on the couch, staring up at the skull he kept on the mantel. He usually used it as someone to vent his complaints or thoughts to whenever John was away; whenever he was aware that John was away, that is.
"Criminals are dumbing down, it seems..." the detective sighed.
But his attention shifted when he heard a sound.
Sherlock listened carefully as he heard footsteps rushing upstairs towards the entrance to the flat. He knew they belonged to his flatmate, but they seemed heavier than usual, implying he was carrying something. But he hadn't been gone long enough to have gotten a great deal of things at the store. Curious, he stood up from the couch and stepped on and over the coffee table, rushing to the door and opening it...
To find John Watson carrying a barely conscious child.
"Well..." Sherlock began, taking a step aside to let the pair inside and staring at the child. "I take it you didn't go to the store, then."
As she woke up, she immediately felt tense. Where was she? How had she gotten here? The girl slowly began to relax slightly as her memories flooded back into her mind; she had been attacked by a man claiming he wanted to help her, and then she used her power to get him away from her. Then a nice man asked if she was okay and then she blacked out, only waking up a little later. She remembered seeing another man, one taller than the one who was carrying her, but her vision had been blurry and she'd blacked out again shortly after seeing him.
Now she found herself lying on a couch in an unfamiliar room. It was warm in here, and it had been quite a while since she'd laid on something other than a bench or the ground.
Her eyes wandered the room, and she jolted a bit when they landed on a man who was sitting in a chair across from the couch. It was the taller man from before, only she could clearly see him now. He was staring at her curiously, with a serious expression, his hands in a steeple beneath his chin.
"Ah, good, you're awake."