The Mystery of Jayden Holmes (A Greg Lestrade fanfic)

Chapter Nine

I sat up, stretching the sleepiness out of my body. I looked around to see cream colored walls and beautiful hardwood floors. There was a large window on the wall to my right with the blinds closed and the curtains parted, releasing a minimal amount of light across the room. A simple oak dresser was sat up against the wall across from the bed I was laying in and a door was open on the wall to my left. It was a simple bedroom with little to no decoration, hinting at the lack of a woman’s touch about the place. I looked down at the soft, red sheets that pooled at my waist and my nude body that was left exposed. I quickly brought the blankets up to cover myself and laid back on the bed as I remembered the previous night. His hands had been rough but gentle at the same time and had brought goosebumps up wherever he touched. Rolling over, I finally realized that I was alone.

I eventually forced myself to get out of the warm bed and picked up my clothes that were on the nightstand beside me. Greg had apparently cleaned up our trail of clothes and laid them at easy access for me for whenever I woke up. I slipped my clothes on and checked my phone as I made my way back to Baker St. There was a missed call from an unknown number and they had left a voicemail.

“Jayden? This is Mary Watson. I wanted to see if you would like to go to lunch so we could maybe talk things out in a civil manner. Give me a call when you get this.” Her voice had sounded like she was serious about it, but I wasn’t so quick to buy into it. It would have been nice to get over that as quick as possible, for the sake of Sherlock and John, but I wasn’t sure that either of us were quite ready for that big of a step in our relationship yet.

I got back to the flat I shared with my brother and took a shower. Since he hadn’t been there when I got home, I walked out in my towel and started to make my way into my bedroom to get dressed. Goosebumps rose up on my skin as I stepped onto the freezing cold floors and I shivered, clutching my towel tighter.

“Where were you last night?” Sherlock’s deep voice called from the kitchen, surprising me at his quiet entry. He sounded a bit like he was still irritated from our argument the night before.

“I went out,” I replied curtly, not bothering to walk into the room to actually talk to him. I heard quiet footsteps as he made his way in my direction. He stopped in my doorway, crystal eyes locked onto me as I gathered fresh clothing.

“Do you even remember how to have a normal conversation with somebody without giving them attitude?” he questioned, crossing his arms.

“Do you even remember how to give a girl her privacy while she’s trying to get dressed?” I questioned back, ignoring the fact that he was standing there while I slipped clothes on under my towel.

“Dear God, what happened to you?” he asked in something that sounded like astonishment. “You used to be so different….”

“Life happened, Sherl. I grew up, I got hardened by life. And being bipolar while being engaged to a psychopath is pretty difficult in itself. Your hardest problem is trying to find somewhere to fit in, to find people who accept you. My hardest problem is just trying to survive without being put in prison,” I argued, my fists clenching and unclenching by my sides subconsciously. I refused to look at him. I knew that if I did, he might just be able to break me down and he knew that.

“You didn’t have to leave, y’know.”

“Yes I did. I never would’ve survived Mycroft, and don’t even get me started on the people at school. And if that wasn’t the death of me, then I would have been. I loved you, Sherlock, and I still do. If I really wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have left you nothing to go on? I expected you to come find me after some time...but you didn’t,” I whispered the last bit with tears in my eyes as I forced myself to look at him.

“Mycroft told me it would be useless...and I knew he was right.” I saw his jaw clench slightly as we made eye contact.

I chuckled darkly and let out a small sigh. “Mycroft...now it makes sense. The one time in our whole lives that you decide to listen to him, and it’s then.”

“If you wanted me to find you so badly, then why leave in the first place?” he questioned in a bitter tone.

“Because, I wanted to leave. I left that letter as a way to ease your mind. And if you had come to find me, then I would have had a way out if I got cold feet. I got cold feet a lot those first few months, but eventually I got over that. But I’m sorry, Sherlock. And I’m staying this time...if you’ll let me.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he muttered as he left the room without another word.

I finished getting dressed in my jeans and a black t-shirt with a brown, leather jacket and boots to match. I tried not to let the conversation with my brother bother me, but it still kept pecking at the back of my mind as I continued getting ready.

I walked through the living room to see Sherlock sitting in his arm chair, his hands steepled under his chin as he sunk into deep concentration. I stopped and just stared at him for a moment as a small smile found it’s way to my face and memories flooded my mind. When he was just sitting around, not concentrating on anything in particular, he seemed like maybe the Sherlock I grew up with was still there. Like he wasn’t the hard shell he had become after I left and life started affecting him too. Without realizing what I was doing, I quietly walked over and placed a small kiss on his head before I left. I doubted he even knew I was in the room to begin with.

***

Thunder and lightning cracked in the sky as the rain began to pick up. The loud booms surprised me every time, scaring me half to death. I hated thunderstorms as much as I thought they hated me. After laying in bed, letting the storm scare me to the verge of tears, I grabbed my teddy bear -Mr. Crumps- and headed down the dark hallway. The flashes of lightning threw large, scary shadows on the walls, making me flinch any time I saw them. I stopped two doors down and cracked the door open.

“Sherly?” I called into my brother’s bedroom with a small voice. I couldn’t really see him, but I could see the shape of him under his blankets. When he didn’t answer, I tiptoed up to his bed and shook him gently. “Sherly?”

“What Victoria?” he muttered in a grumpy tone as he rolled over to look at me, his curly hair a total mess.

“I can’t sleep…” I replied shyly. “The thunder is scary…”

“Can’t you go sleep with mummy and daddy?” he grumbled.

“Daddy scares me when he’s grumpy tired and mummy is too hard to wake up.”

“What about Mycroft?”

“That’s a stupid question…”I mumbled, clutching my bear tighter as lightning lit up the room. “Can I please just sleep with you?”

He didn’t reply, but instead scooted over in his bed and lifted the blankets for me to crawl in. Thunder cracked louder than before and I quickly jumped into his bed, clinging to him in total fear. He limply laid an arm across me before attempting to go back to sleep.

“Now sleep or I’ll kick you out,” he muttered and I shook my head rapidly. I heard him chuckle slightly as I squeezed my bear tightly and fell asleep before him.