The Holmes Called A [Sherlaide III]

Finley's Concerns

Neither Adelaide nor Sherlock slept well that night. The consulting detective had come back to himself shortly after she had left with Teddy, and had had to rescue the trumpeting, foaming kettle- the burns he incurred had helped him fully absorb what had happened. The brunette broke down into tears in the kitchen and laid on the cold lino for the rest of the night, unable to fathom going to bed without Adelaide and feeling undeserving of the futon or his chair.

Adelaide had nearly cried herself dry by the time she'd arrived at Finley's flat. The youngest Cavanagh sent her straight to bed and somehow she went without protest, unable to think of anything or anyone else but Sherlock and their domestic. She cried through the night, drifting in and out of dream world as her memories wove into nightmares. The baby, with each fit, would roll around gently as if comprehending her mother's distress, whereas Finley only grew more and more upset with his brother in law- unable to fall asleep as long as his beloved elder sister cried.

The Next Morning {Adelaide}

I wake up to the sound of my phone alarm and groggily reach out for it to turn it off. Right. Still got work and all. Somehow I manage to sit up and untangle myself from the bedsheets. My whole body feels worn thin and yet woefully heavy. I blink several times to clear the blurry haze, feeling for my glasses on the nightstand and knocking them off in the process, "Oh!!"  I mutter in frustration, trying to bend over to find them in the dark on the floor. That's when the door opens and Finley walks in.

"No, no, no, don't strain yourself, I'll get them," He states gently, righting me and then kneeling to retrieve my runaway spectacles, "Here you are, Adelaide." He places them on me and the world sharpens, coming into focus.

"Thank you, Finley."

"No problem, Sis... Ada, I think you should stay here. You're really looking peaked." I shake my head and clear my throat.

"No. I have to go to work. It'll help me calm down and clear my head. I'm fine."

"And then I suppose you'll be heading back to Sherlock?" He snips, making me furrow my brows.

"What are you getting at, Finn?"

"You're going to go straight back to him after work and try to make him happy again aren't you?"

"Finley, no! Not yet, anyways. He wasn't wrong for being upset with me for not telling him, after all. I haven't been very fair to him at all and he just... reached his limit."

"But he yelled at you, didn't he. He scared you and that's where he did wrong, regardless," He says lowly, "Adelaide, it was very difficult not to march myself to give him a good piece of my mind, with you sobbing your heart out all night."

"And I thank you for that, Finley. Truly. But I told you, I'm not planning on rushing home to see him after work. Don't worry about that."

"Then what-?" Finley pauses and shakes his head, "No. I can't let you do that."

"Finley, I can't go back to Sherlock until I fix the mess I got us into."

"But you don't mean you're actually going to confront them..."

"I do, Finley. I have to. They have been stalking us for at least a month now and I won't let them keep on after last night."

"Can't we just phone Greg and have him handle it?"

"No, because he would tell Sherlock and I don't want to get him involved in this. And the police would only make matters worse. I can handle them."

"Then I'll meet you after work and we'll do it together."

"Finley, it's something I need to do on my own. I can handle them. I've always handled them."

"I'm not a little boy anymore, Ada. I can help you. You don't need to stretch yourself thin trying to shield me from them."

"It's not just that, Finley. They don't have any right to you, let alone me, and they don't deserve to be near you after what they did," I check the time and sigh, "I need to get ready and get to work. I'll come here after work and get Teddy to take with me. But I can't let you near them. Don'tmake me."

It takes him a minute before he sighs and nods in defeat, "Alright, Sis."

"Thank you, Finn."

After a decent breakfast and a smattering of concealing makeup to hide the pale pallor and purple rings underneath my eyes, I set off for the Museum in a taxi. My hand rests protectively over where the baby is as I stare out of the window at London. I wonder if Sherlock is still mad with me?

Probably. Best not to worry about it now.

I frown and close my eyes, leaning my head against the headrest.

Don't worry, Sherlock. I'll fix this today, and then I'll be able to tell you what's been going on.

Any guesses as to who "they" are? 🤔😏 Love you guys! Thank you for reading!! 😘