Chapter Text
I woke up screaming again. I was awake and sitting up by the time I heard the feet pounding up the stairs to my room. I could tell it was only one set of footsteps, but my hammering heart still held out hope, that maybe he would come this time. No. The sounds on the stairs would be farther apart. Da had longer legs. Papa then. That was alright. “Emmalynn?” He was already calling for me.
My Papa used to be a soldier. He understood about my nightmares. He knew they weren’t just childish things that needed to be put behind me. He got them too, maybe not the same as mine, but sometimes he still woke up shaking. Some nights we’d both have them, and accidentally meet downstairs. He’d make me a cuppa and we’d sit in silent understanding. Not tonight. Tonight it hurt.
“My chest. It. Hurts.” I managed through shaky breaths. A Panic attack then. It had been awhile since I’d had to deal with one of these.
Papa sat next to me on the bed. “Look at me. See if you can copy my breaths.” I knew the routine but I needed to hear it. Just like he knew I would be multitasking. So just in line with my peripheral vision he opened and closed his fingers in time with his breathing as well. I was able to calm down enough and nodded that he could stop. His cold hands caressed my forehead and cheek, which felt amazing. Comfort. I needed that.
“Do you want a cuppa, or do you just want water? We could talk if-” I shook my head. I never talked about it, but he always asked.
“Maybe just water. It’s still early. I have school in the morning.” I needed to get back to sleep. He nodded absently, thinking over something, but he didn’t say anything about it.
“I’ll be right back.” He squeezed my hand and headed back out of my room. I listened carefully. The footsteps made it down the stairs and into the kitchen, but didn’t stop. He went back to their room. I would die to know more than where he was in the house. To be able to hear their hushed voices. To hear what Da would say to Papa telling him I’d had the nightmare again. I just needed to know that he worried too. That my pain mattered to him. The footsteps returned to the kitchen. Papa was slamming the cabinets harder than necessary. Right. Maybe I didn’t want to hear what Da had said after all.
I’m almost sixteen now. You’d think after almost ten years I’d have gotten over it enough to sleep through the night. You’d think I’d have given up on Da changing at all. You’d think a lot of things, and yet it was all the same. How utterly boring.
~~~
I straightened my school uniform and contemplated my hair in the mirror. I had tamed most of my jet black curls but I still had time to straighten it if I wanted. No. I had rehearsal later. I leaned down to grab my bag and head downstairs when I caught the scars in the mirror. The nightmare flashed to memory again. I picked up my shirt enough to see the rest of them, tracing with a finger. They’d never completely explained- I hear pounding up the stairs and quickly tuck my undershirt in again before a tall, dark haired and scrawny Irish girl appears in my doorway. Madeline James. My best friend.
“Are you coming? I have Oliver with me so we’ve got to get there a bit early. Sorry.” Madeline’s twin brother Oliver was in debate club, which met a half hour before school. I could grab a snack on my way out and maybe make a little money before class.
“Yeah, I’ll say good bye and meet you out front.” I grab my tarot cards from my nightstand and throw them in my backpack on our way out. Madeline continues down and out of the flat but I stop in the kitchen. Papa is sitting at the table, sipping at a coffee and scanning the paper, pretending not to be watching whatever Da was up to in the living room.
“Leaving a bit early.” I breathed through the obvious statement. Papa closed the paper and stood, pulling me into a hug.
“It’s just school John.” Da grumbled from the living room, Papa threw a glare in his direction, but seeing as Da didn’t look up it went unnoticed.
“Go say good bye to your Dad.” I almost grumbled, but went for another approach. I pecked a kiss to Papa’s cheek.
“I just did.” Before he could scold me, I grabbed a pear from the table and threw it in Da’s direction, he caught it without much effort and took an absent bite.
“Thank you. Have a nice day Emmalynn.” I grabbed another piece of fruit for myself and headed down the stairs and out the door.
~~~
When we reached the school Oliver jumped out of the car before Madeline had a chance to throw it into park. “Well Hell, in a hurry?” Madeline yelled out the window, but he was already racing towards the stairs. She just rolled her eyes, exasperated. “He isn’t even late.” She was right, he was actually ten minutes early.
Oliver and I used to be as close as Maddie and I. Somewhere in the last three years he’d grown distant, and I hadn’t bothered to try and close the gap. I guess sometimes people just grew apart.
“So, want to help me find some idiots to give me money?” I smiled and held up my tarot cards. “I’ll split it with you.” She was on board before I even offered to pay her.
Madeline was one of the few people outside of the family that knew what I could do. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t lying, it wasn’t psychic ability. It was observation and deduction. Da would be proud. After all, I’d gotten it from watching him.
I picked a set of side stairs and sat with my cards laid out in front of me. A few kids came early to school for various activities so it wasn’t hard for my best friend to find us a mark. They placed their money in a small leather bag I’d brought with me and using the cards to distract them I told them everything I’d learned just by looking at them. I was the normal things, they wanted to know how they were going to do on a test or if one of the upperclassman they were mooning over felt the same way. Usually it wasn’t difficult and I never felt bad about what I was doing.
“You’re worried about what your Mum and Dad were fighting about this morning.” I mumbled, not hiding the sympathy from my voice. The girl in front of me was mousy and quiet, but one look in her eyes told me I was right. Sometimes I hated being right. I reached out for her hand, and she flinched, but let me grasp it. I did my best to avoid looking at the large purple bruise at her wrist. “You have to tell someone.” I said under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear. I grabbed her money and passed it back to her, it just didn’t seem right to keep it. She scurried away in a hurry after that.
The girl was the last of a lot of clients. I had more money than I needed at this point anyway. Madeline sat next to me on the stairs. I counted out the money and handed her half. “As promised.”
Madeline grinned in spite of yourself. “You are brilliant.” The warning bell sounded and I stood, gathering my things and placing my money back in my bag for later.
“Need a ride to rehearsal this afternoon?” We didn’t have any classes together, so I wouldn’t see Madeline again until lunch.
“No I have a project so I’ll be a little late.” She looked disappointed and chewed her lip like she meant to tell me to skip but thought better of it.
“Alright. I’ll see you at lunch.” She kissed my cheek and headed off to class.
~~~
Classes passed without much excitement. Though I had private studies as a compromise between my parents, (Da wanted to continue my home schooling while Papa thought I needed to be around more children my age. I didn’t get a say.) I still felt like everything was moving far too slow for me. The book the professor had assigned was dull and meaningless, not to mention I’d read it on my own ages ago.
My mind was spent elsewhere most of the time. My grades stayed perfect, and that seemed to be all that anyone was concerned with either way.
I waited out the day and was too quiet for Madeline’s liking at lunch, but true to her character she didn’t say anything. She didn’t like risking an argument with me. Heaven knew why, we didn’t really fight. It made me wonder about her other friends, and maybe even Oliver. Though Oliver was so quiet and brooding it would surprise me that he knew how to raise his voice or be argumentative in any way.
It wasn’t until the final bell rang and I turned on my mobile that things started getting more interesting. First was the text.
Do you like puzzles Emmalynn?
It was from an unlisted number, but the use of my name assured me that it wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t the first message I had gotten like this. I’d gotten emails, Instant messages, all the same. I’d never replied or gotten anywhere trying to trace where any of the messages had come from. I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else. It seemed odd, but harmless. Something of my own to investigate. Fun. I didn’t respond, but I filed it for later inspection, when I had more time to mull it over.
Instead I focused on the task at hand.
I walked towards the shops that were not quite far enough from the school for my liking. I’d changed into a plain shirt and trousers, trying to keep them as simple as possible, things that wouldn’t draw attention to myself, or be worth mentioning later. I kept my hair down and let it hide my face as much as possible from the people busying by and into shops. I walked to my destination, a small alleyway between a tea shop and a Bakery. I walked about halfway down and pulled a pack of cigarette’s from my pocket. I placed one between my lips and lit it, taking a long practiced drag, relaxing. Finally I was able to put myself in the correct state of mind. I let go of the day and the curiosities of puzzles. I let my body slink into a comfortable yet very unlike me pose. I let everything quiet and finally I could focus.
Focus, for instance, on the boy coming down the alley towards me. I didn’t put my cigarette out until he was standing directly in front of me. I let my mind open as my eyes wandered to record as much information as I could. He was maybe my age, perhaps a year or two older. Eyes vibrant blue, hair colored brown, natural blond. He was wearing clothes that weren’t his usual, like myself. How odd. Why would he be hiding too? The clothing didn’t suggest any sort of gang affiliation, if anything he was trying to look like a nobody. Interesting. I loved interesting.
“Emma, right?” I didn’t bother correcting him, I just nodded, shyly, looking up at him from under my lashes. The perfect cliche I was sure he wanted me to be. I pulled the out money I collected from my peers this morning and passed it to him. He put it in his pocket, not bothering to count it. The money didn’t really matter to him, which concerned me. I pushed the note aside for later. He grabbed my wrist and turned my palm up, placing a glass vial filled with red liquid in my hand. Phoenix Blood. It was a foolish name, but if everything I heard was true it was very fitting. He still held my wrist after I closed my hand. “Two drops on the tongue love, no more. Got it?” I nodded. “And no sharing. If anyone is interested put them in touch.” I nodded again. He wanted to say more, but he kept looking me over instead. He wasn’t hiding his interest.
“I should go, I have somewhere to be.” I pulled away and put the vial in my pocket.
“You sure you do?” He asked, all of a sudden a lot closer to me than I was comfortable with. He grabbed me, placing his hands at my waist. “Stay a bit.”
~~~
“Did you need to assault the boy?” I was in the back of my Uncles car, changing into my clothes for rehearsal. He wasn’t pleased with how my meeting had gone. I held up the vial to inspect it further. I had already told him everything I’d observed about the boy up until he’d gotten a bit too fresh and I’d had to remove myself from the situation. With an elbow to his nose.
I passed the vial to my Uncle and he placed it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
“You’re going to pass it on to Da after you have it tested, aren’t you?” It was a stupid idea. If Da chose to pursue the case it’s likely that he’d run into someone that could give him my description and he’d soon figure out my and Uncle Myc’s ‘little arrangement’.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can figure this one out without him. Besides, I think after this afternoon you’re further involvement makes little sense.” He said it simply, but cautiously, anticipating my argument.
“So you’re firing me?” I scoffed.
“No, you’re family, I simply no longer require your assistance in the matter.” Translation. Yes, I was canned.
“Are you still coming to my recital Friday?” I changed the subject, apparently to one he was even less comfortable with.
“Yes, and I know I promised I would try and talk him into-” I cut him off there, this was something I was getting all too familiar with.
“You promised to blackmail him, but I’m guessing that didn’t go over well.” I hated how much I sounded like a disappointed toddler.
“No. He’s planning on telling you he and Lestrade have an urgent case.” At least someone knew I couldn’t be lied to.
“And I will pretend not to mind, and we both will be able to tell the other is lying.” Uncle Myc looked at a loss for words, like he wanted to comfort me but wasn’t used to the idea or practice.
“I’m sorry Emmalynn. Really.” At least he sounded sorry. I looked up. Yeah, he actually felt bad for me. My stomach knotted. That was even worse than I thought him not caring would be.
“Part of me wonders what would happen if we told them that I helped you with investigations. If he would be proud.” I don’t know why I said it out loud.
“John would murder me. Sherlock-” He stopped, thinking it over, and then trying to decide what he wanted to tell me. “I’m sure he would be stuck between selfish pride and horror that someone might be better at this than he is.” I couldn’t help but smile at that.
The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the dance studio and I got out of the car, turning to flash him one last half smile. “Thank you, and I’m sorry I broke your leads nose.”
“You are your fathers daughter, and I’m not referring to Sherlock. That move and temper were all Watson.” He flashed the smallest hint of a smile and I closed the car door, heading towards the studio. I was perfectly content with that observation.
~~~
I was lost in the music. More than usual. I was suddenly grateful I had switched to Contemporary dance two years ago and convinced Madeline to join me at the last second. We were both sick of Ballet. Da hadn’t been to a recital to notice, and I wasn’t sure if he’d care. Papa had been supportive, and Uncle Myc pretended to be as indifferent as always. Madeline’s parents had been furious. Apparently they didn’t see much dignity in Contemporary. I thought it was raw and beautiful and perfect. With help I’d created this routine myself. It was rage and hate and everything I’d ever wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. He’d notice if he came. He’d finally see. I’m still here you bloody idiot. I’m still breathing and hurting and waiting for my Da to save me. Everything I do is in the hope that he’ll notice and I hate it. I hate that he makes me try. I hate that every time I make a decision it’s twisted in his direction.
The music stopped and I hadn’t realized that I was crying. I shoved off the stage, grabbing my backpack and shoes and heading for the door. I ignored Madeline calling my name. I’d text her an apology later. My mind was too alive at the moment. I contemplated calling Uncle Myc for a ride home, but I don’t want to push the limits of his obvious surveillance. Fine. I’d walk. It wasn’t that far from home. My phone went off again.
Do you like Puzzles Emmalynn?
Love them. What did you have in mind?-EHW