Consulting Daughter (BBC Sherlock)

Kidnapped

I am an optimist because I want to change things for the better and I know that blood has to be spilled and disharmony and cruelty are necessary to do that.

-Henry Rollins

Kyna's POV:

I woke up covered in blood.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Why did this have to happen today? Horrified, I threw the once-white sheets back and slid out of bed, dashing for the bathroom. Right on time. I promptly threw up in the sink.

My body responded immediately, pounding me with terrible cramps. I whimpered and crumpled to the ground, gritting my teeth from the pain.

"Kyna." Sherlock knocked on my door.

"Go away." I groaned, clutching the sink's edge in agony. "And my name is Joss!"

I heard him sigh angrily. "You can't still be angry about last night."

"Sherlock." I choked. "Please. Go. Away." I sat up, taking deep breaths. My hands, cold as they were, felt warm against my arms. With painstakingly slow movements, I reached up and turned the faucet on, washing out the bile coating the sink. Then, after what felt like an eternity, I crawled from the bathroom to my toiletries suitcase and pulled out a pink box.

"Kill me." I muttered, anticipating a very long week.

~~~~~

Emerging from my room an hour later, considerably cleaner, I followed the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen. John was sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading the paper.

"Hello." He said when he saw me. I sat down across from him, silently observing him. This morning he was annoyed for some reason, although he kept his feelings in check. I leaned forward without realizing it, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"When did you get back?" I asked, accepting Mrs Hudson's offer of tea and toast.

"This morning;"

He was tired.

"Last night was chaotic. Two broken arms and a flurry of influenza. Molly's resting comfortably. I checked her blood levels. They were a little peaked but everything seems fine."

I frowned.

"And what of her bite?"

Just then, Sherlock rounded the corner, covered in slime and looking smug. He smelled absolutely nauseating, like he had gone swimming in a pig's sty.

"What did you do now?" John's nose wrinkled and he took a cautious breath through his mouth.

"I went looking in the sewer for the body." The consulting detective said proudly.

"The sewer?..." John looked as sick as I felt. My stomach churned.

"I found evidence and traces of the body having been moved...." he trailed off, looking at me in confusion.

"Joss?" I knew that he could read me in that moment. I'm sure almost anyone could. I made an unpleasant wretching noise and ran to the sink.

"Oh dear!" Mrs Hudson scampered away. John had his coffee cup half to his lips, frozen. Sherlock took a step towards me, but before he could say or do anything, I burst into tears and ran out of the kitchen, locking myself in my room and leaning against the wall.

Mother Nature was a bitch.

"Kyna, I would appreciate it if you would not vomit on the floors. They're mahogany." Sherlock's voice from the other side of my door agitated me.