I woke up with the sun pouring into my room. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep again. Last night was crazy. We didn't get home till late because Sherlock insisted in going to get a drink with me but it was awkward. We just sat there in silence as we both drank. It was like he was trying to make amends in a weird sort of Sherlock way. I didn't like it. If he would not be direct with me like I knew he was with everyone else, I would not be direct with him. When we finally got home, it had to be close to one.

After about laying in bed for about another 30 minutes, I realized I would not go back to sleep, so I rolled out of bed and walked over to my desk where my paper was laying with a pencil next to it. I didn't get anymore facts since the hospital and I wasn't sure where to turn next.

I walked out of my room and into the main living room to see books lying all over the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" I asked as I saw Sherlock lying on the couch with a book in his hands. I was sure a little hung over, but he didn't seem to be affected by the drinks from the past night.

"Did you know why he talked little about his family?" Sherlock asked me, not taking his eyes off his book.

"No, didn't ask," I said and shook my head as I looked at one book on the ground. It was about fake identities and how to make them. If he wanted to know how to make them, he should have asked me, oh wait, I wouldn't have told him anyhow. How did he even get a book about that? "Did you even sleep last night?"

"I am on the verge of something, Rori. He didn't talk about his family because he had a different identity. He isn't Cedric." He shot up with a grin on his face, then jumped off the couch and ran over to the computer where a young boy with a cute smile was on the screen. "Luke Welfore, this is the man, this is who died. The facts match up, the age, where he's from, everything. His other identity is almost perfect, but not."

It shocked me he found that information.

"Why you ask would he have a fake identity, why do you have one?" he continued, as if reading my mind.

I looked at him with a frown and I'm sure I had a dumbfounded look on my face as well. No one knew I had a fake identity, mine was flawless. I should know, I made it. How did he know if everyone else thought that Maire Brennan was dead? On the records it says she was dead. I killed her myself and out of the ashes rose Rori Anderson.

Before I could respond sharply, he said, "Because he's running from something. How hard is it to make an identity?"

I didn't say anything back to him. I was mad at him about knowing that I wasn't who I said I was. I was furious that he was accusing that I was running from something. The nerve he had. How easy was I to read to him? Almost no one knew these things but in a matter of a few days he had already uncovered one of my secrets. If he knew how many other people knew? Would he tell anyone? It didn't matter if what he was saying was true or not, I was about to slap the smug look on his face. I had to make it known that I had boundaries and he couldn't dig up my past without some kind of payment. I could feel my face turning red at him.

"I'm sure it's hard and expensive. He grew up in a poor part of London. He worked hard but what if he didn't work hard enough. What if he had help? What If he had help from the wrong places? he would want to get away from that fast. What if he didn't pay back all of it?"

I knew he was talking about Cedric, but a part of me felt like he was still attacking me. "Oi, shut it," I spat out, letting my Irish accent show, then turned back into my room, slamming my door behind me. I couldn't believe that he figured out part of my past in a matter of a day. This was a sign to me that living with him would never work. By time the three years were over, he would know all of my secrets.

If he found out about the fake identity so fast, what else did he know about me? This was normally the point when I would run, but I couldn't. I was stuck here, with him, the man that could read my every move.

My life had been full of running, and I was fine with that. I always stayed out of the way and in the shadows. The world didn't need to know Maire or even Rori. That's why I was so good at what I did, no one noticed me.

I frowned, unhappy with thinking about the subject. If he was going to spill my secrets, he was going to spill. There was nothing I could say to make him stop. Once these three years were up, I would just have to reinvent myself again.

I felt my stomach growl. I was hungry and needed to eat. I walked into the kitchen and looked into the fridge and saw that there was nothing except some molding cheese.

"There's some money on the table, get some food," Sherlock told me not even looking up from his book he was reading.

Without a word to him I took the money and walked out. I knew where the closest Tesco was but all that was on my mind was Luke Welfore, I knew where he grew up at. I had lived there myself before. If I could just get some solid proof of my own, I could nail who killed him. If I beat Sherlock at his own game, that would shut him up. But first I needed to talk to his family. I got on the baker street Tube and went to the closest tube stop from where he lived.

I got off the Tube, and before long I was walking down a street with plastered white houses. It was a simple street as I watched children playing with a beat up football. I continued to walk down the road but stopped when I realized I didn't know what house he lived in. I shrugged, knowing there wasn't any fun in following the rules.

I walked up to the closest house and looked into the trash. I picked up a couple envelopes and saw them address to people that I wasn't looking for. The next house I walked up to, I knocked on the door. The intercom went on and said, "hello?"

"Oh yes, I'm looking for the Welfore's do you know where they live?"

"Oh um, they um, they..." and with that, the intercom turned off.

Found them. That was easier than I thought, which caused a smile to come to my face. They were probably making a run for it, which only made it fun for me. I got on my knees and took out a couple of bobby pins from my hair and unlocked the door.

"I'm coming in now," I said before I walked into the house. As I walked in I saw an older woman with a gun in her hands. "I will not hurt you." I put my hands over my head to show I actually meant it.

"Why do you want me?" she said and cocked the small gun.

"I just want to talk." I took a step forward, but stopped when she pointed the gun back at me.

"Stay right there," she demanded.

I nodded. She was prepared for something like this to happen. It made me wonder what her family was really doing. "That's fine. Are you the mother of Luke Welfore?"

"Who's asking?"

Before I knew what I was doing, I said, "The police, Miss Welfore, I am so sorry, but your son has died."

Instantly, she dropped the gun and sobbed. "I knew this would happen. I told him to go as far from this place as possible."

"Can I ask you some questions?" I said politely as I walked up to her. She looked at me again, but this time I saw understanding instead of fear. She nodded and then did something I did not expect. She reached over and hugged me as she cried into my shoulder.

It took all my mental power not to push her off of me. Instead, I just stiffened my body, hoping that she would catch the hint that this was uncomfortable. However, she stayed where she was, like she didn't even notice what I was doing.

This was outside of my comfort zone. I let no one hug me and I never hugged anyone back. My mum started that when I was just little. She was not the most affectionate towards me or anyone, so I never learned myself. I knew this wasn't normal, but I couldn't break the habit. Because I never learned how to act in situations like this, I didn't know how to handle it.

After what felt like forever, but I think was only a minute, I nuzzled her and gave her the best sympathetic pat I could muster. "I could come back another day," I breathed as I took a step back from her. It would be better not only for me if I left, but it would be for her as well. I was not the best person to help with emotional moments. It was only time until I said the wrong thing to her or over reacted.

"No, stay, please, I'll answer your questions," she said as tears still fell down her face.

I held back a sigh. Why did everyone want me to say for this kind of stuff? Could she see I was uncomfortable?

"Here, come in," she said and walked into the family room and took a seat.

Right away, I could tell that her family meant the world to her. There were family photographs all over the wall. She had three kids, two boys, one girl, and they had lived in the same house for at least 25 years. All kids were out of the house because she only had young old photos of them and her husband, dead. There were photographs of him to but yet she didn't call him when I told her the news. She was poor as well, with the couch and chairs worn out, probably got them when her kids were little.

"How did he die?" she barely spoke.

I sighed, knowing when I told her, a fresh wave of tears would come. "He died at work, a head wound," I said stiffly as I watched as tears started falling again. "I'm sorry." I couldn't believe I was comforting a woman that I didn't even know about her son that I never met. This was not me.

"He was such a good kid," she sobbed.

"Do you know who would do this to him?"

For a minute she just sat there and cried, but then she spoke up, "he wasn't always a good kid. When he was young, he was in a gang. But I don't know why they would hurt him. He got out of the stuff when he was 18."

Before I made any more guesses about Cedric or Luke, I needed to find out more. What was the gang and from there I would tack them down and ask them questions about him? I knew the gangs were dangerous, but I felt like I had enough street smarts to outsmart them if I would question them. "Do you know what the gang was called?"

"The black birds, or somewhat like that. They came around the other day asking for him. That's when I called him and told him to leave. They aren't good people," she sniffled.

I knew I got all I could get out of her at this moment I and knew that I wouldn't be able to stand her crying much longer, so with that I got up and said, "thanks for your time." Without her even replying, I left out the front door.

<>

I took the tube to the Jubilee line and ended up once again, back on Baker Street. It seemed like as much as I wanted to get away from Baker Street, I couldn't escape it. "You got to be kidding me," I sighed loudly as I remembered Sherlock was expecting me with food. He would know if something was up if I didn't come back with anything, but I didn't feel like going to the store now. I had too much drama for one day and I just wanted to lock myself in my room and stay there.

Against my wishes, I knew I should just tough it out and go, so with heavy steps I walked down the road to Tesco where I got some essentials. With what I got, I hoped it would last us a week. While I was getting checked out, the cashier was trying to be discreet about it, but he kept staring at me.

"Are you new to around here?" he said and smiled as widely at me. I just wanted to leave. This was just the cherry to the ice cream. The random cashier was the last person next to Sherlock that I wanted to talk to at this moment. Why couldn't he just do his job saying nothing?

I rolled my eyes at him as I gave him the 50 pound note in my back pocket. "Yeah."

"Well Baker street is pleasant. Close to the Jubilee line, it's convenient. I know it is for me anyway. I've lived here my whole life though, don't know any different," he babbled on as he gave my change. He must be dunce because I was making it oblivious that I didn't want to talk to him. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks." I said bluntly at him and walked out with bags in hand.

I walked down the street as fast as I could back to 221 Baker Street.

When I got up to the flat, I saw he was still on the couch looking at another book.

"You saw Luke Welfore's mother and told her that her son died. As much as you want to say you have no people skills, I know you do, and you couldn't let his mother not know the truth about her son. You were the first to go to her, and she was distraught, she cried on your shoulder, making it wet, even till now. You also have a faint smell of smoke on you. She grew up in a hard part of town, so she spent money on cigarettes instead of working on getting out of where she was," he said not even looking up at me.

I frowned. Sometimes people couldn't get out of the place they were in because of other situations. He was arrogant. "You are wrong." I said bluntly as I pulled my shoes off by the door and went to put the food in the kitchen.

"What did you find out?"

"I found out that I can't stand people," I stated, hoping that he would catch the hint that I didn't want to talk.

"He was in a gang, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." I didn't even bother to ask him how he knew that. I didn't want to know. I didn't care.

"It's called the black falcons."

That sounded more like a gang name than that black birds. It was really sad that his own mother didn't know the name of the gang he was in and Sherlock, who never met the man, knew what gang he was in. I had to admit; it was pretty amazing.

"And you didn't talk to them."

"No."

"Well, get your shoes back on. We're going to meet up with them," he said and jumped to his feet.

"You are, not me." I walked into my room, still mad about earlier today and how he just mentioned my cover ID like it was no big deal. I couldn't stand that he had to know everything.

"My brother."

"What?" I asked as I turned to face him.

"My brother, he gave me a file about you before you came."

"So the government knows I'm fake!?" I shouted at him. It took me forever to make it. It also cost me half of my savings but I thought it was worth it to start new. If the government knew that it was fake, why wasn't I locked back in prison or who else knew about it?

"No, but your file it didn't match up. From that I inferred your file was faked. No one else knows."

I nodded. It felt like I could breathe again.

"So, are you going to come? Or will I have to do this on my own?" He asked as he put on a coat and flipped up his collar like an idiot.

I couldn't believe I was about to do this, but I couldn't leave just him to deal with a gang alone. He needed backup, even if it was just me. "I'll come," I sighed and pulled my shoes back on.