Save Yourself

The next morning, once out of the shower, there was a knock at my door. Slowly, I opened it, unsure of exactly why I was scared. John stood before me, a frown on his face. He barged in, closing the door behind him, staring at me.

"Uh... Hi?" I asked, wrapping my robe tightly around me, my hair still dripping from the shower.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did I or did I not walk in on you and Sherlock kissing?" John asked, not waiting for me to answer, "You're going to get hurt. He's going to get hurt. We're all going to get hurt! This is really... bad."

"He's not a robot, John."

"He might as well be. Kara, I care about you. I care about Sherlock."

"I get that, John," I answered, now rubbing a towel over my head, "I do, but Sherlock and I are both adults and I think we can handle this."

John sighed, now sitting on my bed, "I didn't want to tell you this, but it's because I'm in love with you."

"Shut up, John."

"Okay, fine!" John stood up again, "Okay, of course I'm not, but I had to give it a shot. I suppose.... I suppose the thought of Sherlock with a girlfriend would be..."

"I'm not his girlfriend, John. I don't know what I am or what's going on. Sherlock is absolutely weird, I'll give him that, but I think I have way too much going on to sit around picking which restaurant we're going to," I wrinkled my nose, "Well, for him, I guess we'd be going to a morgue. Or somewhere equally fucked," John smiled at me from across the room, seeming to relax, "Look, I know he's your friend and I'm totally going to ignore we could have all gotten killed and somehow this is your priority, but I promise to be careful."

"It's not you I'm worried about mucking things up, honestly."

I shrugged, "Sherlock is Sherlock is... Sherlock. He's not good with people and he's a bit of an ass, I get that. But I like him, he makes me smile. Even if he's not entirely sure why he likes making me smile; but there are more important things going on. I need to get hold of my daughter, somehow."

John's smile dropped a little as he approached me, placing his hand on my shoulder, "We will get her back. I intend to keep that promise. And at this point, I know Sherlock isn't in this just for fun. He cares about you, Kara."

I smiled softly, listening to the sound of Sherlock walking above us. He'd just woken up, he always seemed to right after me. John left the room, leaving me to dress and prepare for whatever the day may bring, which had become something I was entirely unsure of lately. I pulled the picture of my daughter out of my bag, finding a familiar note with familiar handwriting taped on top of it:

I will get her back for you.
I promise.
-S

Another smile, which kept me from crying. I placed the note in the box with the others, running my hands over the writing on each of them. How could someone be so caring yet so frustrating? Why was Sherlock so hellbent on not letting anyone see he gives a damn? I closed the box, taking Abigail's picture in my hands, staring at it. My breath caught in my throat and I had to steady myself before falling. How could I have been so stupid?

"Sherlock!" I screamed, immediately hearing his footsteps on the stairs, "Sherlock! I know how to find Abby!"

"What is it?!" Sherlock met me in the hallway, nearly colliding.

"I know where to find her. I know where she is."