No Shit, Sherlock

A Miserable Day

It's a dark and dismal day. The sky above is full of dark clouds, ready to drop a shower of rain at any moment. The scent of wet dirt and smoke fills the air, as I walk silently down the road. I have no plans for today, I just want to walk and think.

A cold gust of air blows my hair behind me, goosebumps cover my neck. As much as I like the cold weather, I'm not a fan of it at this moment.

The sky gets darker.
But I keep walking.

Thunder echoes loudly, the people on the street in front of me run inside.
But I keep walking.

The street lights up as lightning strikes across the sky.
But I keep walking.

A carriage drives by, splashing water all over my legs. Normally I would yell, maybe even throw my hands up and curse, but today I don't have the energy to. I just want to walk, and keep walking, even if I walk off a cliff.

I get this way sometimes, where I can barely eat or speak. My mother worries, but we both know I'll be alright. It'll be over in a week or two, but for now I'll just suffer through.

My body comes to a stop, someone's grabbed my hand. I look up to see a familiar face staring down at me.

"Are you walking in the rain?"

I look around slowly, I didn't even notice it was raining.

I turn back to him, "It appears so."

Sherlock begins to walk, pulling me along with him. I stumble behind him and look up to see that he's pulling me to a carriage.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He helps me into the carriage and quickly jumps in. "Taking you to my place, where it's warm and dry."

I say nothing and look out the window, I'm too tired to argue. My head rests against the window as I watch the rain drops slide down. The city looks so peaceful in the rain, everything is gray and beautiful. The streets are quiet with only the sound of the rain drops falling.

The carriage stops, I slowly turn to see Sherlock already standing outside, holding his hand out to me. I immediately take his hand and jump down. He ushers us into his apartment building, and lets out a loud sigh.

"Are you okay?"

I nod slowly, "Yes."

He stares at me briefly, his blue eyes scanning my face. I can see that he's worried, but he's trying not to show it.

He grabs my hand softly and leads me up the stairs, our wet shoes squeak along the way. I cringe at the squeaking. Why is everything so loud today?

We enter his apartment, it's cleaner than normal. Watson must be organizing everything. I stand at the door quietly, why did he bring me here? What am I supposed to do?

Sherlock returns with a stack of dry clothes, "These are Enola's, I'm sure she won't mind you borrowing them."

He hands me the clothes and points to a bathroom. "You can leave your wet clothes hanging above the tub."

When I walk out of the bathroom I see him sitting on his couch, he's wearing dry clothes now.

"Mind telling me what's going on with you?" he asks, not even looking up from his book.

I sit in the chair across him him, "There's nothing going on with me."

He sets his book down, his eyes staring right into my own. "Then why were you walking in the rain by yourself?"

"I just wanted to walk, I didn't even know it was raining."

I acknowledge that I sound insane right now, but it's true. I was so caught up in my thoughts, that I hadn't noticed the rain.