When Sherlock Met Loki (Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter Ten

Jane's P.O.V

I stepped out of the portal, right where Phil was on the computer. He looked stressed, constantly clicking his mouse. He quickly looked up at me then back at the computer. Then glanced back at me, "Jane!"

"Phil, catch me."

He ran over to me just as I blacked out.

Later On

I opened my eyes, glancing around a gorgeous gold room. I was curled up in a super soft bed. I looked up and saw my window was open, sun shining through. The curtains fluttered as the cool spring air flowed in. For a minute, I had forgotten all that had happened. I had forgotten all the terror and pain I had just suffered. I was just there, like a ghost. Like I wasn't real or alive. Like I was just watching over Earth from the comfort of my bed.

Until I heard and knock on my door and saw Agent Phil walk in. That's when my stomach turned to knots.

"Hello Jane. Feeling any better?"

"No."

"I assumed not. But Jane, you need to understand, the only way we can get Sherlock back is if you tell us all that happened."

"I understand. But it will take every ounce of me to go through that pain again. It plays back through my mind over and over again. I just want it gone."

"What if I told you it could go away?"

I looked at him, "What?"

"If you tell us everything, every little detail, of what happened, I can do something for you."

Sherlock's P.O.V

I awoke in a rather large bedroom. It was colored a dark blue, like my scarf, which hung on a hanger. It had a white drawer, desk, and a window with a beautiful view of London.

I couldn't remember much of anything, just being in my house playing the violin. Jane had left to go get some groceries. Where was Jane? Where was I?  I knew that screaming like a maniac would attract bad attention so insted I quietly crept out the door. There was just a long hall with rooms on either sides. Then at the end of the hall were stairs. I took small steps as I walked to them. I put my hand onto the smooth railing and walked down the spirl stairs.

"You're up!" I heard a male voice say.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes bulging. What was going on!

Instantly, his face filled with regret, "Oh gosh! I'm sorry to frighten you! I forgot you don't remember, the doctor said you wouldn't remember a whole lot."

Um, what?

I observed the man. He seemed about my age, 26. Looked like he went to college to become a writer from the amounts of paper, books, and dictionaries that littered the living room. He had slicked back black hair and dark green eyes. He wore a dark green t shirt that matched his eyes and black jeans. He approached me with care. This guy couldn't have been threatening so who was he?

He pushed a whisp of my hair back, "Oh gosh, Lillian."

I moved away from him, "Who are you?"

He tried his best not to look hurt, "You don't remember me?"

"No."

"Oh, the doctor said you'd forget a lot. But-But I thought you'd remember me."

"Okay, who are you and where is Jane?"

He looked at me, "You don't remember?"

"Obviously no!" I snapped.

"Lili," he sighed, "Jane died."