The Swan Queen | Sherlock

The Morning After The Night Before

    I was the definition of a lightweight when it came to drinking. I woke up in a dark room, my eyes taking a moment to adjust before I closed them again. I wasn't ready to wake up and face the reality of today. I had no memory. It was coming back to me in flashes. Dinner with Kate, drinks, dancing, karaoke, shots, lots of shots... then what? What time did we get home? How did we get home? What time is it now? Was I late for work? Kate would have woken me up surely, unless she was still sound asleep. I needed to find my phone to check the time, but that meant opening my eyes and facing up to my looming hangover.

I reached out into the darkness, feeling beside me for a bedside table. I felt a lamp, a glass, but no phone. Hopefully, it was in my bag which I hoped was on the floor. I rolled onto my side to feel. Nothing. I lay back down on my back, my head spinning. I should really get up and wake Kate. What if we had slept in?

Memories came flooding back to me. My phone call with Mycroft. Apollo, back in London. So he had been keeping tabs on my brother all along. What had I done after the phone call? I remembered going back inside, searching for Kate. Did we get some food and call it a night? I was concentrating so hard, trying to focus in on the memory. Sherlock would never forget.

There was something, lodged at the back of my mind, a memory. A voice, a conversation. Someone saying my name. A man, it was a man's voice. 'Sammy.' I couldn't see his face, but I heard his voice. 'Sammy. This is a surprise.'

What happened last night? Who was I talking to? It was too dark in the room to make out any shadows or silhouettes. Just pitch blackness. I didn't feel ready to turn on the light. I felt warm, flushed, very hungover and aching. Suddenly I realised I wasn't wearing the dress anymore. I had a t-shirt on and my underwear but that was it.

I couldn't take this any longer, so I reached for the floor and searched, half in the bed half out, for my bag. The flooring was cold and wooden. A chill ran down my spine. This wasn't Kate's room or her guest room, they both had carpet. I found my bag and quickly opened it to retrieve my phone. 10% battery life left, an alarm set for 8 o'clock that I must have set before I got too drunk, and a message from Kate sent at 3:02 a.m. telling me she got home safe. I checked our conversation and felt my heart sink.

At half 12 she had messaged me asking where I was. I had replied saying I was searching for her. I found photos of us on my camera roll taken at 1. She had videoed me singing karaoke, I turned up the volume slightly to hear what song it was. I didn't sound great and I was swaying a lot. Kate was cheering me on loudly. By half 2 we had clearly lost each other again, she texted me that she was at the bar. I had replied back saying I had bumped into someone I knew and they were taking me home. She replied with a winking emoji. I replied telling her to get home safe. Her last text was confirmation that she had.

It was 6 a.m., I still had 3 hours before I was due at work. I could relax. I should have been able to relax, but instead, my heart was pounding. Where was I? What happened last night? Who did I bump into and why did I leave Kate? That was a bad friend move on my part. I sent her a quick text to check she was alright. It was too early for her to be awake. She was right about us going to regret going out the night before. I don't know how I was going to survive work today. If I even made it to work...

I placed my phone on the bedside table and lay down. I closed my eyes, praying to wake up in my own bed at Baker Street. John waking me with a cup of tea, making sure I was up in time for work. He was considerate that way. Whereas Sherlock barely noticed my comings and goings. He wouldn't wake me if I slept in, I'm not even sure he knew where I worked.

I reached out for the glass I felt earlier and picked it up. Bringing it to my lips I tasted water, it was a relief. A sense of deja vu washed over me. I remembered a situation much like this, a long time ago it now seemed. I debated texting Mycroft, but what could he do? I was going to have to face up to it and rescue myself. It can't be that bad. What's the worst that can happen?