Chapter Text
I detach myself from the wall as Sherlock walks into the distance, his coat flapping out behind him. I take in the differences ten years have taken from the young boy I had known before I had run away from him and Mycroft. His face is sharper, more angular. He is taller, at least a foot or two more than me. I sigh. Lets get this over with. I walked to the door of 221B, testing the door. Locked. I nimbly slide a hairpin out of my hair and pick the lock, the door creaking open. I hear it creak shut behind me as I pad up the stairs.
Even after trying to steel myself for the mess of his flat, I still am taken aback by the explosion of the disaster scene. I timidly knock on the doorframe. Hearing John moving around beyond my view, I walk in, weaving around stacks of books and papers. "Hello John," I say smiling.
"Sherlock just left if you're looking for him...I can assume that's why you're here, at least, I mean..." he trailed off.
"I guess I'll wait then. And by the way, the name is Aubrianna. Aubrianna Holmes."
I can see the shock on his face, and feel his eyes following me as I examine the couch, looking for anything gross before I flop on it.
"So...Sherlock has a sister. Like a real sister. He's never told me about you," John says disjointedly, trying to make conversation.
"John, the reason he never told you about me is well...everyone, except maybe our mum I guess, if she’s even alive, they all think I am...dead."
"What is it about Sherlock that causes everyone to fake their deaths?" groans John as he drops into a chair.
"Well, this is a new development," I say tiredly. Sherlock had always been erratic, causing a menagerie of odd effects around him. We sat in silence as I stared at the yellow face that someone had apparently spray-painted on the wall, riddled with bullet holes. Feeling as if it is staring at me, I look in the other direction to see a skull leering at me. I ignore my rumbling stomach, because from what I have heard, there would be eyeballs looking back at me in the fridge. I clear my throat, and John looks up.
"So.. If i were to get something out of the fridge, what body part are in there currently?" John smiles, and I can see how Johnlock has become a rumor around the streets. "Last time I looked, it was fingers, I am pretty sure," replied John, obviously fighting back laughter at my disgusted face. "A..Aubrianna , I think we have a yogurt that's not expired if you want it." I fought to get up from the couch, heading to the kitchen as my stomach rumbled louder. I found the yogurt, diverting my eyes from the fingers. I instinctively tried the drawer to my immediate left, finding a spoon. As I opened the yogurt, I heard a door slam downstairs, and I knew it is Sherlock.
I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe. I’m really here.
Coming here was my last chance at living another day; I would certainly have died tonight. The floor by the door creaks, and I steel myself for when Sherlock sees me.
"Who's here, John?" comes my brother's deep voice. I take a deep breath, and walk to the kitchen doorway.
"Sherlock, well... it's your sister, Aubrianna , back from the dead apparently," at this, he points to me, and Sherlock turns slowly.
He jumps a little when our eyes meet, and seems shocked to silence as a minute passes. I break our staring contest, saying, "Hello brother. Now, not to be seemingly unexcited to see you, but I need medical attention after ten years on the street," I choke out. " This is my first food in a week, my ankle’s been infected and broken, despite a doctor’s splint, and I need something to drink.”
I see John rising out of his chair, and I slowly slide down the wall, putting out my ankle as I dig the spoon into my yogurt.
“Oh, and by the way Sher, call Mycroft. I came here first. He doesn’t know I’m alive yet.” Sherlock slid his phone out, keeping his eyes on me as if to make sure I am still real. I hear the phone ringing on the other end, and catch an annoyed hello before Sherlock holds the phone to his ear, mumbling something indecipherable. I suddenly feel even more dizzy, and John’s face began to spin in front of me.
“Oh my god, Sherlock...Aubrianna’s fainting!” John cried, and then the world went black.