Y/n Holmes // Sherlocks Sister

-2-

1 week.
I had been clean, for 1 week.
Clean from drugs, alcohol, self harm, anything which makes me feel something besides numb to all of humanity; something that makes me feel things towards people. Now, i'd done it. The next day was the day i'd be moving in above my brother and his friend John Watson. I needed a release. Despite being mad at myself for relapsing, i missed this. Come to think of it, the only person i'm harming is myself, so why do I need to stop? This may be the drugs talking, but this is when I'm at my happiest. I can't get to sleep, my head feels so heavy, its spinning. My mind's gone blurred, dizzy, my memory's hazy. As the smoke fills the air, i hear the sound to my alarm clock. Shit. I've already packed, they'll be here in 15 minutes. A cab, not my brother. My mum said she didn't want me to feel overwhelmed by sitting in a car with him after not seeing him for so long. He can't see me like this. He'll know immediately, he's smart, no, more than smart, clever. Mycroft is smart yes but Sherlock, Sherlock is clever.

It feels like a second before I hear a car honking it's horn outside my, well my old, window. i stumbled down the stairs to the cab and tell them the address. 221B Baker Street. My belongings had already been taken there so all that was yet to arrive, was me.

We take a quick journey through London until we get there. I don't see him outside so I thank the driver and get out of the car. Fuck. Still high, and drunk. I slowly make my way towards the door when i stop. I can hear a faint violin playing from a window above, more specifically Sherlock's violin. It suddenly stops playing, halfway through a melody, and i'm snapped back into reality. I knock on the door and wait for a minute or two. An old woman opens the door, whom i would later know as Mrs. Hudson.
"Hello, Y/N Holmes?"
"Yes, it is," a voice from behind her says.
She jumps a little, startled, but I knew his voice from anywhere. The same voice i heard say goodbye the last time we spoke. It's my fault that we haven't been in contact, i've ignored him for 6 months.
"Gosh, Sherlock. You scared the living daylights out of me. Don't mind your brother, i'll show you to your new flat."
I step into the house to be immediately hit with the smell of incense, lavender. I carefully take steps towards the stairs, following Mrs. Hudson, passing Sherlock as I go.

-Sherlock' POV-
She's changed. More petite, hair a little thin, lips chapped with a red wine stain on the top one, eye bags from not sleeping enough, or even sleeping at all. I watch as she makes her way through the door, finding it hard to navigate where to walk. Any idiot can tell that she's drunk. The last time i spoke to my sister she was completely fine, healthy and normal. This is probably just a one off, I'll think nothing more of this. As she passes, the smell of alcohol, specifically vodka, burns my nostrils, which means it was quite recent. As she stumbles up the stairs I turn to see John, who I don't think she saw on her way up the stairs.

"Who was that?" John questions.
"Our new neighbour, and my sister."
"I didn't know you have a sister. Not close?"
"We used to be, haven't spoken in a couple months. All will be well."
"Well, she was pissed. I don't think a family reunion is best right now'" John states.
"No, of course not. I'll probably wait a couple of hours for it to ware off. Meanwhile, we have a case to solve."