Satin and Twine

I stepped onto the Baker Street behind Mary. It was overwhelming. I could see street, the people and how they moved, but I also saw the ghosts that haunted it. Flashes, pictures of people as I they move through the street. Some of them I knew, but there was one in particular that I didn’t. Sherlock was standing near the door. John was inviting me in with the landlady of the flat behind him. Mary was running to the door her phone in her hand. Sherlock was getting into cab; a small girl with brown hair and a rainbow jumper followed him in. These ghosts, these images were happening all at once. They attacked; they bombarded me, my senses were consumed by their words and actions. All I could see was them all I could hear were their voices. I could only feel their touch and ice like it was creeping over my skin. I was freezing, I was fading.

“Freya,” Mary broke through the ghosts and touched my arm, bringing me back to the street. “Are you okay?”

I nodded slowly, my mouth felt dry as I spoke, “Ye-yes… it’s just a lot to take in.”

She smiled, her thumb gently running over my arm, “It’s familiar than?”

“More than I thought it would be,” I forced a smile as I tried not to see the ghosts still present on the pavement around me.

“Let’s do it like we talked about,” she said looking toward the flat. “When you first came to Baker Street how were you feeling?”

“Hopeful,” I told her. “I wanted out of my old flat. I always hated it there, you know that.”

She smiled and laughed, “I did, yeah.”

“I wanted this place to work out,” I turned back to the flat at hand, my eyes lifting up to the windows above us. Sherlock stood in one of them. His cold eyes were cast down as he watched Mary and I on the street. “So much so that I brought a bag of things so I could stay the night before moving in the next day. I really wanted out of that flat.”

I lowered my eyes to the door where Ghost-John stood saying something I couldn’t quite hear above the noise of the other images around me. It was like standing in a crowded room and trying to have a conversation with someone two meters away; incredibly frustrating. John was still talking, smiling under that ridiculous mustache he had. I never really head him since he grew that, most of the time I just watched it move up and down, up and down; like a caterpillar.

“Freya, I'm glad you made it,” John greeted me at the door.

“Me too,” I smiled as he hugged me, “this is already an improvement from where I live now.”

“Well come in, it only gets better.” He moved out of the way and I entered the flat. John was right, it did only get better. Dark wood features and light green wall paper made the landing seem homey. The land lady, Mrs. Hudson, stood next to the stair case. Sweet eyes and a kind smile greeted me as I stepped forward to shake her hand and introduce myself.

“Thank you for letting me come here today,” I said with a smile. “I know you haven’t had tenants since John moved out so I’m really, very grateful for this opportunity.”

“Oh it my pleasure, dear.” She nodded to the man beside us; “John said you were in a bad situation, I just want to help.”

“You are,” I spun around and beamed, “this looks amazing! It’s like something out of a mystery novel.”

John chuckled, “Just wait till you see the upstairs.”

“So how long have you and John known each other?” Mrs. Hudson asked as we ascended to what would be my flat.

“A few months,” I said. “I sprained my wrist at the library where I work. I was trying to put a book back and fell of the ladder like a clumsy fool. John patched me up, with Mary’s help of course. We all had a laugh and have been in touch ever since.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” She smiled.

We reached the top of the stairs. John was waiting by the closed door with an amused smile on his face. There was a pause and I looked between the two. Mrs. Hudson gave him a solid nod and he turned to me. Dark grey eyes filled with content, a sort of completeness or closer, as he tipped his head towards the door. “Go on,” he said, “It’s your flat now.”

I paused a moment, glancing from him to Mrs. Hudson and back again. “Really?” I asked and they both laughed, chuckling as they nodded. “Why?”

John looked at from me to her, his laugh sobering as he spoke, “This flat… it’s special, you know? After Sherlock…” he trailed off, gathering his thoughts, “After him not just anyone could live here. You, Freya, you’re not just anyone. You and this flat… it’s like you belong in there. And I just have a feeling that you will live here for the rest of your life. Now why don’t you go prove me right?”

The door opened and I wanted to cry, it was so perfect. Everything from the rug and the wallpaper, the books and the mirror, to the skull on the fire place made me want to squeal with joy. After years of searching I’d found it, a place where I could live and enjoy living. John was right. I would spend the rest of my life here.

“I told you she’d like it.” I heard him say to Mrs. Hudson behind me.

“It’s like a dream,” I whispered turning around. “I mean… just look at it.”

“Yep,” John glanced around. “It looks like a bloody mess.”

“Just like Sherlock kept it,” Mrs. Hudson smiled, looking about as well.

I turned around, “Sherlock was the tenant before, right?”

“He was my flat mate, yeah.”

I slid my hands into my back pockets, running my teeth across my bottom lip, “Y-you don’t talk about him… ever.”

He nodded slowly, dark eyes falling to the ground as he shrugged. “Sherlock was… my best friend… and I miss him immensely. For a long time after he died, I was stuck. Doing the same job, not talking to the same people, and not healing the scar he left behind. But over the last few months, meting Mary and you Freya, I’ve found some kind of peace in my life.” He looked up and smiled, “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

A smile crept across my lips as I clasped my hands together, “You’re purposing tonight, aren’t you?”

“What?” Mrs. Hudson looked from me to him. Shock and joy crossing her face and coloring voice as John smiled and nodded.

“Show me the ring,” I demanded.

“Hey- no, hang on,” he chuckled holding his palms up. “I’m picking it up from the shop tonight.”

“Diamond?”

“Yes.”

“Cut?”

“Round.”

“Just one? Or did you dig deep into your pocket book like Mary deserves?”

“There are three stones on the engagement ring,” he said with a smile, “Her wedding band will have more I'm sure.”

I giggled, “Thinking ahead, I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, John, I'm so happy for you,” Mrs. Hudson said hugging him. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“No, Mrs. Hudson, I'm the luck man,” he said patting her back, “That is, if she says yes, of course.”

“She will!” I said, my smile so wide I thought my face would crack, “You two are amazing together! She’d need a heart of ice-“ I froze. I was freezing. It was so cold and I was so alone in the dark. But there, in the back, was a whisper. Freya! Freya! Freya! I could hear them shouting, I could feel their touch. Someone was grabbing me, grabbing my arms.

Someone pulled me out of the dark.

“Freya!” Mary shouted as I opened my eyes. I tried to look around but the light was blinding and everything was moving so quickly. Someone was screaming, the high pitched shriek tearing through the flat and someone was struggling. Pushing and hitting and fighting against something or someone I couldn’t tell.

“Freya,” a deep voice commanded my attention and everything snapped into focus. I was the one screaming, my voice piercing the fog and I struggled against Mary who was attempting to restrain me. “Freya, you’re safe. You’re here, you’re safe.” He whispered as I fell back into his arms that wrapped around me like a blanket. He was warm and I was so cold, when we touched it was like fire and ice. Like the wind and the earth had stilled for a moment. Fire and ice, light and dark, dead and alive.

I looked up at him through half hooded eyes. He was beautiful, all dark curls, silver eyes, and cheekbones that could kill. It was those cheekbones that my hand sought out as I reached above my head to stroke his face. “You called my Dyre,” I whispered as my hand fell back to my side. “You’re not supposed to call me Dyre.” And then the world went dark.