Rachel, answer me.

I'm not joking, this is serious. Where are you?

RACHEL. Mary and I are worried. Where are you? Please answer so we know nothing's happened.

I shook my head as I looked at Dad's texts. I wasn't up to answering; I wanted to be alone. This started since the middle of last night. Appledore had been the stage for my nightmare. It had replayed exactly how it had happened. It rattled me so badly that I woke up screaming. Dad was the one to come to me and calm me down. He ended up sleeping on the floor next to the loveseat in case it happened again.

I couldn't go back to sleep after that, I tried everything. I'd tiptoed out of the house, managing to find a cab. I told them the address and before long I was dropped off at Baker Street. The place was unlocked, which was a bit scary. Mrs. Hudson should know better than to leave 221B unlocked.

Mrs. H didn't hear me even though she should have with the annoying stairs that wanted to give me away. I stayed in the empty apartment once I got comfortable. I managed to fall asleep in Sherlock's chair, curled in a ball.

Somehow, the apartment made sleep easier to come by. I'd woken up to Dad's anxious texts this morning.

I'm fine. Don't worry. I couldn't ignore my dad all day; he'd have Scotland Yard start a search party for me if it came down to it.

Where are you? he sent immediately.

Why don't you come look for me?

I knew I was being snarky, but I was tired. Fatigue wasn't good for me. I was a bundle of negative emotions this morning, but mostly I felt numb.

I wanted to erase what had happened yesterday, what I had seen. It wasn't hard to wrap my head around, considering it was something Sherlock would do. It was hard to think that Sherlock would go to extreme lengths like killing someone, though. I knew people had suspicions that he'd done it before, killed someone. Even though it was seen as a good thing in my eyes, he was still labeled a murderer and had to be dealt with.

He wasn't in 221B; otherwise I would have been in panic mode right now, trying to think of ways to get him out of doing whatever was going to be asked of him. Instead, I was curled in his chair, staring into the kitchen with blank eyes. I cringed as I heard the echo of the gunshot ring in my head. It wasn't the first time I'd heard a gun go off, but it was certainly the first time I'd witnessed a murder.

Wait. No, that wasn't true. I'd seen a man murdered before. Let me clarify: this was the first time I'd seen Sherlock Holmes kill a man. I rubbed my forehead, wishing this wasn't happening.

"I don't know what you're going on about, Mary." Mrs. H's voice drifted up to my ears. "I haven't seen Rachel in quite some time."

"Are you sure you haven't seen her recently?"

"No. Do you think I'm lying for her?"

"No, I just want to make sure."

"If she had come by, I would have known—oh, she's actually here. Huh, how did I miss that?"

"Can you excuse us, Mrs. Hudson?"

"Of course, dear. Do you want anything?"

"I think we'll be fine, thank you."

"Call for me if you change your mind."

"Rachel?"

From the corner of my eye, I could see Mary slowly peek into my line of vision. I kept staring straight ahead into the kitchen.

"Rachel, please don't be like this."

I kept silent.

Mary sighed. "We're really worried about you. You can't go running off in the middle of the night like that." This time, Mary kneeled in front of me. With bleak eyes, I glared at her. "I've got to tell John you're here and alright."

"Where's he?" I finally asked.

"He's out looking for you; he dropped me off here so I could look. He'll be mighty pissed with you."

"Oh, I know."

"Why did you run off like that, Rachel? John and I thought something happened to you!"

"So I've been told."

"Why did you?" Mary pressed.

I shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

"People don't normally sneak out of the house at night when they can't sleep." She frowned. "It's because of what today is, isn't it? Rachel, you can talk to me about it. I know I may be the last person on earth who you would want to talk with right now—"

"I forgive you," I blurted out.

Mary looked startled. "S-sorry?"

"I forgive you." I tried to smile but failed miserably. "It may still hurt me sometimes to think about it, but, if Dad is willing to keep you, then I can too."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Rachel, you have no idea how much it means to me to hear this. But stop changing the subject." She went from cheerful to scolding in less than a minute. Oh yeah, Mary was going to be just fine as a mother. She was going to practice on me, John Watson's adult daughter, until my half-sibling was born. "You can talk about it."

My stomach clenched. "I'd rather not."

"Why did you come here?"

"This was the only place I could think of," I said quietly.

"I see the bigger picture, you know. John might be not be able to, but I'm not him. I know he says he believes you and Sherlock are just friends, but I don't think that's quite true."

"Are you saying we'd dated or something?" I twisted my face in disgust. "You can't honestly believe that."

"No, what I mean is—it seems to me that he has a bigger effect on you than you show. Doesn't he?"

"Whether he does or he doesn't, I wouldn't tell you."

"You don't trust me to keep it a secret?"

"You're making it sound like I said yes to the question." My eyes narrowed.

"You did. You got defensive." Mary smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "It's a thing of the past. It doesn't exist anymore. I can't see that happening with him, anyway. He's involved with too much, not to mention his personality would be hard to put up with every day."

"John did it for a while, and so did you."

"Nobody can tolerate Sherlock Holmes like we can, Mary. You—you won't say anything?"

"Not a word. Besides, it's not that big of a deal. It's gone; nobody should worry about it if they happen to hear it. I swear on your half-sibling I won't tell anyone unless you tell me it's alright to. "

"When do you find out the gender?" I asked, eager to drive this conversation to something not Sherlock related.

"We're having a girl. We found out a few days ago."

"That's awesome! I'll have a little sister." My eyes widened. "Wow, that's a huge age gap."

"It is."

"Damn, I'll be in my forties when she's eighteen. I'll be like an aunt or grandmother to her more than a sister."

Mary's phone went off. "Ah, he'll be here anytime."

"When are we supposed to meet him?" I asked. "I wasn't paying attention much last night."

"You would have to ask your father, because even I don't remember. That's why we wanted to come looking for you. We didn't want you to miss his departure."

"I wouldn't have. I would have found a way."

"You wouldn't know where it is."

I bit my lip. "Point taken."

"Rachel Watson, you are in some serious trouble!" Dad thundered.

I cringed in Sherlock's chair as Dad came hopping up the stairs. He stood in the doorway, but he wasn't alone. Footsteps were making their way up the stairs. Mary rose from her crouch and backed off to stare at my dad. I swallowed as Dad stepped aside to let someone else in.

My heart plummeted into my feet. I wasn't sure whether to be pissed, surprised, or relieved to see him. What was he doing here? Why was Dad not ripping him to pieces for being just as bad a liar as Mary? How come Mary wasn't holding my dad back with them being so close to each other?

"What is this?" I hissed.

"An intervention, I guess," Bayley whispered.

"You don't get to talk."

"Rachel," Mary gasped.

"Why are you even here?" I leapt out of the chair. Anger ran in my veins.

"We asked him to come." Mary held her hands together over her distended belly. "It wasn't his idea, we promise."

"But why?"

"We figured he could help us track you down. He told us that you ran here the last time." We all remembered that day very clearly. "If you won't listen to us, then maybe he'll get through to you."

"When did you plan this?"

"Last night," Dad piped. "Truthfully, we planned on having him here before you ran off."

I laughed obnoxiously. "This is the dumbest logic I've ever heard! You expect me to listen to the man who lied to me?"

"I think you forget why he did it." I looked at Mary. "He did it for you the same reason why I did it for John. We'll leave you two alone, but don't be long." She looked to my dad. They both left, leaving me alone with Bayley.

"It was a waste coming back," I whispered, not meeting Bayley's eyes.

"It was worth it." I took a step back as I heard him take one closer towards me. "Rachel, look at me."

"How can I?"

"Stop treating me like I'm trash. It's insulting."

"You know what else is insulting? Keeping a huge secret from your girlfriend."

Bayley snorted a laugh. "Were we still together? If I remember correctly, you moved out once we got back to my place. I worried about you since you left."

"You didn't seem to show it."

"I knew nobody wanted anything to do with me once Sherlock told everyone who I really was. I tried Amanda, and she wasn't exactly friendly."

"What did you do during that time?"

"Not much."

"Any student-teacher affairs?" I wished I had said that more playfully.

"What do you take me for, a reckless idiot?" He sighed. "I hurt you, and I never wanted to do that. I did plan to tell you, but I wasn't sure when to. And you know why I didn't tell you right away? I didn't want you to call the police on me or jump to the wrong conclusions without letting me tell you everything. I knew if I said it too early, I'd lose you. I guess I did for a while, and I deserve it."

At the hurt tone in his voice, I finally looked at him. He had no idea how true his words were. He'd lost me here but before what he thought. My affair with Sherlock had pulled me away from Bayley for a time. For a time, I wasn't his. We were apart, separated by countries.

I had a sudden urge to confess about my cheating. I wanted to say how awful a person I was and how Bayley didn't deserve to waste his time going after someone as bad and broken as me. I wanted to tell him this was over so that he could have a better life. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve me.

But I can't turn him away. It could turn into bad karma, but I can't tell him now.

Coward, my conscience told me.

"You know, I thought about you sometimes," I confessed quietly. "When things got stressful, I'd try and mess with the charm on the necklace, but then I'd realize it wasn't there." I took in a deep breath to steady my voice. "I've focused on your past for months. I had nightmares, truthfully, after we found out. I—I reacted horribly, I was no better than my dad when he found out about Mary." I laughed bitterly. "But also like my dad, I've learned that no matter what you've done, you're still a part of me, Bay.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is—"

Bay swept me into his arms, kissing me tenderly before I could get another word out. My heart did a marathon in my rib cage.

"I forgive you," I stammered, feeling the bridges of our noses touching.

"I'm glad I never gave up on loving you," he purred in my ear. I laughed, tears coming to my eyes. "I love you, Rachel Watson."

"I love you, Bayley Redding," I crooned. "And you know what else I'm glad for?"

"What?"

"You're not clean shaven." I scratched his light facial hair.

Bay chuckled. "I did shave months ago. It didn't look right." He made a face. "Oh, and I've got something of yours." His arms went over my shoulders long enough for him to attach the anniversary necklace back around my neck. I beamed, feeling the familiar shape of the double heart pendant.

Somehow, I felt like my world righted itself again.

My phone went off in my pocket, ruining our tender moment. I pulled it out, seeing Dad sent another message. Really? You can't just come up and talk to me?

Our rides are here. It's time.

Our rides? I guess Dad wasn't driving us to our destination. Well, he couldn't if he tried. He wouldn't know where to go. I suddenly realized that Mycroft had probably sent us transportation. After all, he'd know where his baby brother would be.

Bay looked at me with somber eyes. "Are you sure you want to be there?"

I nodded. "You'll come with me?"

He took my hand in his, squeezing an affirmative.

**Mary is no fool when it comes to suspecting Rachlock.

Love her or hate her, I love her.**