Sherlock's Daughter: Fallen

Steps

Steps - Handsome Ghost

Look Away - Lo-Fang

Cry Baby - The NBHD

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Later that night I was given an ultimatum. Get clean or go to prison. Clearly I chose sobriety. But this time, It would be court regulated. I now have ankle monitor that lets me go to and from home. Every week I have one therapy session and one drug test. So here I am, at therapy. (Weird, right?)

"So, Sophie, you have a long history of drug related issues as well as mental illness. Why don't you tell me about them." Lily, my therapist suggests as I sit in a neutral colored room. The tan walls calming me down. "When was the first time you used drugs?"

"Um," I begin reluctantly. "I was 13. There was this girl Rosie, I met her. She was 4 days older than me and we instantly formed a friendship. We both had similar family issues. Hers was a frequently absent mother and no father. Mine was two fathers that didn't seem to focus on much but beating the bad guy. One day we were exploring this abandoned apartment and she pulled out of her pocket a bag of green substance. At first I was nervous and hesitant. But once she said it totally made her not worry about her life anymore, I instantly gave in. I was weak."

"Do you believe the drugs helped you cope with your fathers' frequent unavailability?" Lily asks as I scan her rather empty room.

"Clearly." I reply instantly.

---

John and Sherlock pick me up, another requirement...I can't walk alone. We walk in silence, John hasn't really spoken to me since the hospital and Sherlock really isn't one for small talk. I begin scanning the crowds for people. Making up stories in my head. That brunette over there, based on her untamed hair, bags under her eyes, and the fact that her clothes are unkempt and wrinkly. I would guess either a one night stand or finals week. Okay so Sherlock is definitely better at this.

"Sherlock, 4 o'clock. Brunette with unkempt clothes and bags under her eyes...what do you think her story is?" I ask, my curiously getting the best of me.

"Given the time of the year and time of the day, finals." Sherlock confirms. "What did you think?" I swear I saw a slight smirk on his face.

"One night stand or finals." I reply rather happily.

"If it had been a one night stand, there would have been make up on her face. There was no make up on her eyes or under her eyes, but there is none." Sherlock advises. I tuck that information away just in case I ever need it. I can tell Sherlock doesn't mind me asking these questions. It's like our version of...bonding?

For the rest of the walk we walk in silence. I can see how therapy could work. I mean, Lily said that I may need to reach out to Sherlock and not wait for him to talk to me because it may never happen.

-- 7 days later --

My muscles have started aching so badly, I feel like I just did some serious weight lifting. I've taken more ibuprofen that I probably should. Lily says this is the first symptom of withdrawal. She has warned me of everything that is to come; Cravings, fatigue, depression (that's where they are closely monitoring me), agitation, inability to feel pleasure and more muscle aches. I'm not nearly prepared for all of it.  I do have to say, being one week clean has not been fun. It's trapped me with my mind. Something I never wanted. As Mycroft says, the worst thing to do is to lock a Holmes up only with his thoughts. He's right...as always.  Jesus Christ, my neck is killing me.