Deducing Tragedy Part Two: Speak No Lies

It was the dead of night but to Sherlock the night was very much alive. The air was charged with an energy he didn’t understand as the wind rushed down the hill-side and swept across the lake. It rushed past him and the girl standing only a few feet away, stirring her silver hair as it went. Deep blue eyes were locked on him as they stood on the banks of the lake she’d just been pulled from.

A memory, he realized as he watched her turn to the boy, Ben. He felt that familiar pain spread across his chest like it did anytime he saw them together. Ben loved Hanna; Sherlock was not so naïve as to think any different. And while he didn’t think she shared the boy’s affection he didn’t know. He couldn’t read her like he did the rest of the world; Hanna was different, she was unique.

She turned back to him, those blue eyes meting his own silver ones and Sherlock felt the shift; the click of a puzzle piece coming together. At the time he was baffled by the feeling but now, among his dreams where no one could see or hear, he allowed himself to be happy.

Soulmates. A concept he was not unfamiliar with, he had heard the term often enough, but the idea was an absurd one. The idea that everyone had a perfect match, someone who was made for them, was nonsense. Not to mention statistically unlikely. But Sherlock found the idea suited the situation.

When you eliminate the impossible, however improbable, must be true.

So what did this mean? He and Hanna were “Soulmates”? Maybe, he decided. He would allow himself that.

Sherlock smiled at the girl whose blue eyes were so wide and venerable. She really was an angel, he thought as he approached her; all white, silver and blue and gold. He reached out to stroke her cheek and she curled her face into his palm. Those blue eyes piercing through him as her warm hand covered his to lock it in place.

“Hanna,” he whispered his voice cracking as he fought back tears. “I am so sorry.”

“Why?” she frowned.

He laughed, “You’re stuck with me.”

She laughed too and kissed his palm, “I can think of worse things, Sherlock… Sherlock… Sherlock... SHERLOCK!”

The shout startled the detective who sat up straight with a jump. He looked around, expecting to see the lake he’d just been at surely? But no, it was a dream, and he was in the hospitable like he had been for the last week. Molly had gone home for the night like she did every night when visiting hours ended. The nurses tried to kick him out as well but he would blatantly refuse and Mycroft pulled a few strings. He wanted to stay with Hanna in case something changed.

Like now as she stared at him with those big, impossibly pleasing, blue eyes. She was sitting up; the hospitable gown was loose on her small frame. Her silver and copper hair was down, framing her heart-shaped face. But the thing that held Sherlock so still and so quite was that he was looking at Hanna. All signs and traces of Ann were gone from her face and body language. Those walls and shields that had been crumbling since he first saw her in the morgue were gone, smashed to dust and before him was a girl that he feared he may never see again.

And part of him was still hesitant, what if it was a trick? Was Ann tricking him into letting down his guard? “Hanna?” He whispered in a low even tone, yet he could feel the emotions rising in his throat. “Is that you?”

She hesitated a moment longer, before a small smiled flickered across her lips, “Hello, Sherlock.”

The breath he’d been holding seemed to vanish from his lungs as the emotions, many of which he didn’t know or understand, came pouring out of him. Tears he didn’t know he had spilled down his cheeks as he gave her a smile of his own, “Hello, Hanna.”

Her own eyes shined with tears, “It’s been a while.”

He laughed once, “Some would say too long.”

She nodded as her small hand slowly sought out his, her warm touch making him realize exactly how cold he was. “I'm sorry- I had to go away for a bit.”

“Obviously," his smile faltered. "Your secret?"

She bit her lip and nodded as the tears started to run down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Sherlock-"

"You're back now," he cut her off with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "But promise me one thing."

She hesitated again, her brows knitting together in concern and just a bit of fear. "...what?"

He offered her a small broken smile, "Don't... don't go where I can't follow." Her face softened and her eyes went wide, "You- You can't. I don't kn- I don't know what I'll do if you leave again-" She silenced him with a hug, embracing the man in her arms so his tears fell against her gown and hers fell in his hair.

After a while, Hanna pulled back so that her eyes met his. She raised her free hand to stroke his cheek and a small smile crossed her lips, “Never again… Not if I can help it.” He gave her a short smile as he nodded. He took her hand in both of his before leaning over to press it to his forehead.

Were they soulmates? He didn’t know. But he liked to think so.