Once I got to actually talk to Bayley, I told him the situation. Even though I'd said Sherlock was going to be fine, my voice had trembled badly. I hadn't realized how much this would get to me. The man who played around with my trust was nearly killed. The man who had tricked me was going to be okay.

Bay noticed how shaky I was, so for the next few days, he called at least once to talk to me. While Dad and Mary went to work, it was me who stayed at the hospital to see if Sherlock would wake. The morning after the shooting, Mary had been the only one to see him awake. He hadn't been up for very long, she'd said, as the medication doctors had him on were really affecting him.

I always stayed with Sherlock in his room. Most of the time he stayed asleep. Nurses would come check in on him or adjust his medicine from time to time. It surprised me that Janine didn't bother to check in on him and see how he was doing. I found that to be rude of her. If she'd cared about him, she would have called.

Or maybe she didn't know.

Today was, I think, the third day I'd been wasting away in the hospital, watching Sherlock sleep. He had to wake at some point. He knew who'd shot him, I was positive. I wondered if Mary asked about the shooter during that small time he was barely conscious.

He looked fairly peaceful, and the whiteness of the room made him look pale. I leaned back in the chair, wishing I wasn't alone. I've always got the option to leave, but I don't want to. God only knows when I leave he'll be awake.

I closed my eyes, tired of all the white in the room. I was glad I'd just done so, because new footsteps came into the room. They didn't sound like a nurse's, but a woman's heels. It couldn't be Mary, so maybe Janine had finally come around?

I decided to act asleep and listen. I heard rustling of some sort. I almost blew my cover when I heard the smallest sigh come from Sherlock. He's awake. After a few more rustles, I figured this woman had some newspapers with her.

"I'm buying a cottage." Janine had come after all. I tried to keep a neutral face in case either of them looked my way. If I was silent and didn't move, neither would notice me. "I made a lot of money out of you, mister."

She was using him like he was using her? I guess they were a fit match.

"Nothing hits the spot like revenge for profits." I wanted to smack the smugness out of Janine's tone.

"You didn't give these stories to Magnussen, did you?" Sherlock asked tiredly.

"God, no—one of his rivals. He was spittin'!" There was brief silence. "Sherlock Holmes, you are a backstabbing, heartless, manipulative bastard."

Well, she wasn't wrong.

"And you—as it turns out—are a grasping, opportunistic, publicity-hungry tabloid whore," he retorted.

"So we're good, then."

"Yeah, of course. Where's the cottage?"

"Sussex Downs."

"Hmm, nice."

"It's gorgeous. There's beehives, but I'm getting rid of those." My hands twitched at hearing Sherlock gasp in pain. "Aw, hurts, does it? Probably want to restart your morphine. I might have fiddled with the taps."

"How much more revenge are you going to need?"

"Just the occasional top-up. Dream come true for you, this place. They actually attach the drugs to you!"

"Not good for working."

"You won't be working for a while, Sherl. You lied to me. You lied and lied."

"I exploited the fact of our connection."

"When?"

"Hmm?"

"Just once would have been nice."

"Oh. I was waiting until we got married."

"That was never going to happen!" Janine exclaimed. She sighed. "Got to go." I felt her presence briefly near me. "I'm not supposed to keep you talking. And also I have an interview with The One Show and I haven't made it up yet." Her feet were heading out. "Just one thing. You shouldn't have lied to me. I know what kind of man you are...but we could have been friends. I'll give your love to John and Mary."

I let out a heavy snort once she was out of earshot.

"I know you listened in, stop pretending," Sherlock said lowly.

I popped my eyes open to see newspapers spread all along his sheets. I shook my head. That bitch, using him for money. I hated her more than I pitied her for being used.

"I shouldn't keep you talking either," I considered. "You're probably worn out." I looked down at my hands. "You could have just asked me for help."

"I did."

"No, you kidnapped me and used me, only to use Janine, who in turn used you for money." I laughed dryly to myself. "You two really could have been friends if you hadn't done what you did to her. We wouldn't have gone through all that trouble." I wouldn't have gone through all that pain, I wanted to add. "I'm just glad that wasn't real, either, what you had with her."

"Why?"

"I would have sent you to be checked out. You and relationships don't mix, Sherlock. I'm glad to know you're still the same." I smiled meekly.

"Why do you still hang around?"

"Why ask when you know the answer?" My eyes met his. He looked so exhausted, like he was about to pass out any minute. "You had us all worried. You had us so convinced you were...Well, it doesn't matter. You're still breathing." I looked towards the door. "So...who did it?"

"I don't remember."

"Don't lie to me. You must've seen them. Magnussen didn't tell Dad who shot you when he asked. I'm not exactly up to asking him for the answer. So, who was it, Sherlock?" I looked back only to find him passed out.

I sighed. Sherlock could have been playing possum or he was legitimately passed out. I couldn't help but smile at him. I liked him a lot better when he was quiet and still.

"He's still asleep, huh?"

I whipped my head around, lurching out of the chair in amazement. "Bay?" I whispered. I crossed to him to hug him tight. "Why are you here?"

"Your dad told me you've been a bit off, a little too worried. I figured I'd fly down to keep your mind off things." He stroked my face.

"You didn't have to do that." Heat rushed to my cheeks. I kissed him sweetly.

"How's our survivor?"

"Still in a lot of pain, I'm sure. He was awake just before you walked in. He's so tired."

"How long is he supposed to be here?"

"I don't know. I'd have to ask Dad, he'd probably know."

"Oh, speaking of him, he wants us to be at his place for dinner."

"Done." I smiled. I looked back to Sherlock. "I hate leaving him here all by himself."

"I doubt he minds, Rach. I'm sure he'd rather be alone than have people around."

* * *

It felt strange, because it felt official for all four of us to sit around at a table and spend some time together. Dad and I were the silent ones while Bayley and Mary had a field day talking with each other.

Sherlock was lying to me, I knew it. But why? Why would he lie? Was he trying to protect his shooter?

What was Sherlock hiding?

My phone vibrated in my pants, making me jump a foot in the air. I checked the ID. I swallowed, seeing that it was Sherlock. My mouth parted slightly. This had to be something big if Sherlock was calling me. To my knowledge he only texted—he preferred it over calling. Yet, the times he got a hold of me, he called.

I looked up to notice the talking had stopped. Everyone was staring at me.

"Sorry, I've got to take this," I said sheepishly. I slipped away from the dining room and headed outside to answer. "You better have a good reason for this."

"Believe me, I do. I need you to meet me somewhere."

"Wait, where are you?"

"Leinster Gardens."

I groaned. "You escaped the hospital? How'd you manage that?"

"It isn't a prison."

"Bloody hell, Sherlock. You were just shot! You need to rest."

"Rachel, just trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you really?"

"Now isn't the time to get smart. I need you to listen to me. I'll explain everything once you meet me at Leinster Gardens. Don't tell anyone where you're going."

I sighed. "This better be worth lying about."

"It is. Now, get going." He disconnected the call.

I chewed on my lower lip. I needed to go now? What was I going to say to everyone inside?

"Hey." I whirled around to see Bayley hopping down the steps. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "That was the hospital. I need to go back; I left something in Sherlock's room by accident. I won't be long. Tell Dad and Mary, alright?"

"Okay. You plan on staying with me, right?"

"Yeah, just grab my things when you leave, if you don't mind." I kissed Bay quickly. "I'll be back soon." I hope.

Guilt chewed on my insides as I started walking in the night. Hopefully I'd get lucky and catch a cab. I hated lying to Bayley, to Dad, and to Mary, but if Sherlock thought it was necessary, then I had to.

I was afraid of what he needed me for, though.