Save Yourself

Time went by so quickly. First it was me telling Sherlock to focus on the picture, and from then out it was as if he had a map in his own mind. It took us less than twelve hours to book a flight, pack our suitcases, and head back to the states - head back to the place I dreaded, the place I had never called my home. John would stay at home, he had his own things to tend to, leaving just Sherlock and I. We didn't have a plan, we didn't have much of anything - but I felt safe with Sherlock, barely looking over my shoulder more than twice in the airport terminal.

We were quiet for the first few hours, Sherlock deep in thought. I, on the other hand - well, I had no idea what to say. There was absolutely no way of understanding what we could be running into. Possibly a trap, we could possibly die. While all of it terrified me into night terrors, none of it seemed to bother him. In fact, little seemed to disturb Sherlock at all, other than John or I getting harmed...

"Halfway there." Sherlock spoke for the first time, rubbing his eyes. It was the first time I'd ever seen him noticeably tired.

"Think if anything good?" I asked, shoving a plate of food in front of him. He started to protest, causing me to shove it further.

"A few things. Possibly four things, depending on the weather when we arrived."

My nose wrinkled, "I will never understand you, Sherlock."

"You may be the only one who has ever come close."

"Ooh, I do love it when you flirt."

We began eating, though trying our hardest to ignore the delicacy of an international flight's version of dinner. I couldn't take my eyes off of the picture of my daughter, which I'd now taped onto the front of the notebook I was carrying. Sherlock noticed, grabbing my hand tightly, but not looking away from his food. I suppose we were back to awkward gestures of kindness, which was still a lot for him in my book.

"I know you don't get scared, but I have to admit, I am."

"I think you'd be a fool not to be," Sherlock answered me, not pulling away as I laced my fingers through his, "And I find you not to be... much of a fool."

"You do have a way with words," I teased, trying to take his version of a compliment.

"I won't allow you to die, Kara."

"It's weird, but I kind of believe that. And in some ways it makes me happy, but in some it doesn't. Like, are we talking... throw yourself in front of a bullet for me?"

"Well, yes... I suppose so."

I raised my eyebrows, "I'm ninety-nine percent that's, uh, the first sign of love."

Sherlock cleared his throat as his glass of water went crashing to the floor, suddenly becoming incredibly clumsy in a small timeframe. I laughed, enjoying how nervous it had made him. While he wanted to write off any feelings of affection for me, frankly, I knew better.

"Anyway..."

Sherlock's voice trailed off into a series of plans and how they could all work. Location, number of men, security all depended on how it would plan out. Since we had no idea what we were walking into and Derek wasn't known to play fair, it could pan out in several different, possibly vicious ways. Sherlock assured me none of them would end in his, mine, or especially Abby's demise.

Once the plane landed and we collected our small amount of luggage - Sherlock seemed very confident this would take less than a week - we ventured out into the cool, desolate night - the town from my nightmares engulfing me yet again.