"Why'd you get rid of our couch?" Sherlock asked his older brother.
"Sentiment brother dear." Mycroft answered simply. He found it almost pathetic how him, not so much John, could be so emotionally attached to a couch.
"It was our couch, you had no right." Sherlock said bitterly.
"Oh shut up, enough of your emotional moping around." He stood and tugged at his coat. "Now I'll be off." Mycroft said and left without another word.
Sherlock immediately pulled out his laptop and began typing, trying to find out where he had taken his couch.
"Uh, Sherlock?" John asked as he walked into the room.
"Yes John? I'm busy." He said, his eyes glued to the screen.
"Y/n died two weeks ago, right?"
"Yes."
"Shouldn't they have had her funeral by now?"
Sherlock looked up. "You're right, that's rather odd. Call her family."
"I did, they sounded confused, like they didn't know she had died."
"John, we have a case."
"We do?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, and here what you can title it, 'The vanishing girl', Y/n wouldn't have just vanished, we need to figure out what happened."
John nodded and pulled on his coat, as did Sherlock.
They worked on the case for another two weeks, both finding it difficult not to get emotional, they couldn't get your hospital records, so naturally, Sherlock stole them.
They read her records at least 17 times, they couldn't believe it. You had checked out of the hospital three weeks ago. The boys became frantic, looking all over the city for you.
You weren't at your flat, you weren't with any of your family members, you weren't with any of your friends. Sherlock had the homeless network looking for you.
Another week passed, not a clue. Sherlocks phone rang and he hesitated before reading it. "John!"
What!? What is it? is it about her?" John rushed over to him, trying to peer down at his phone.
"They found her, two blocks over, in an alley behind a dumpster."
John ran immediately, coming back shortly. "Right or left?"
"Right." Sherlock said before running after John, who had taken off.
John ran as fast as possible, he missed you so very much. he skitted at the alleys entrance and ran down to the dumpster. He saw you curled up against the side and ran up to you.
"Y/n! Y/n! Oh my god Y/n you're alive!" He looked into your eyes and ran his thumbs over your dirt covered cheeks.
You pulled him close and hugged him tightly. he reciprocated your actions and you quickly felt another set of warm arms wrap around you, Sherlock. you slipped your arm around him as well and you three sat there for a while, hugging, crying.
John picked you us and carried you back to Baker Street and you cleaned yourself up. You went back up and saw them sitting in their chairs. John pulled you into his lap and held onto you tightly.
"How'd you survive?" Sherlock asked. "Your heart stopped."
"Ok," you sighed, "I guess they revived me in the ambulance but I was in a coma, I was in that coma for a week. When I woke up I had amnesia, I couldn't remember anything. I left, having no clue where I was. I wandered the streets for days, scrounging food and water,it was hard, for someone who didn't even know her name. I only started remembering a few days ago. It all came back so suddenly, but I still had no clue where I was, if I knew I was that close I would've run home."
Sherlock just nodded along with John. "Well you're safe now, with me." John murmured and kissed your cheek.
"Us." Sherlock said. "Safe with us."
"I was trying to be romantic Sherlock." John sighed.
"Yeah well get over it." Sherlock replied. you giggled at the pair, having missed this for all the weeks you were gone. Sherlock couldn't contain his smile, he missed you just as much as John had.
John smiled as well and squeezed you lightly. "I love you." he murmured.
"I love you too." You murmured.
He kissed you softly and held you close. after that day, you were never hurt again.
