LXXXVII • 87

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Your POV:

You had been chatting with the girls ever since they had seen you and approached out of curiosity.
"What're you doing here?" The oldest one asked, although it was more inquisitive than suspicious.
You smiled. "We got lost." You did your best at mimicking an American accent, although you weren't as good an actor as Sherlock.
"We?" The girl knit her eyebrows together, still grasping the hand of each of her sisters.
You made a split second decision. "Yeah, my husband is over there asking for directions." You indicated the cabin. "Are they your parents?" You felt bad probing at this touchy subject, but you couldn't let on that you knew anything about them.
She glanced toward the cabin. "Um, no, they run the foster home. Our parents are... out of the picture."
"Oh. I'm sorry." You decided it wouldn't hurt to empathise. "Mine too."
"What?" She asked, looking you in the eyes.
"My parents are out of the picture too." You swallowed hard. It was more difficult than you'd imagined. "My mother abandoned me and my father was abusive." You neglected to mention that he was also murdered- by your brother.
You saw her eyes fill with tears, but they never spilled over. She let go of one of the twin's hands for a moment to wipe her eyes. "But you were adopted?"
"Yeah." You said, smiling a little. "I even got a brother out of it."
"That's great." She didn't look you in the eyes anymore. "I don't think we'll ever be adopted."
"Why would you think that?" You asked, actual concern in your voice.
"I guess because there's three of us and we can't be separated. No one wants to commit to all of us at once." As if agreeing silently, one of the twins wrapped her arms around her sister's waist, staying as close to the older girl as possible. You could see the love and affection that flowed between the sisters and you understood why they couldn't be adopted one at a time. You had no idea what to say, so you were immensely grateful when Sherlock returned and you were able to change the subject without feeling bad.
"Ah, there you are. Girls, I'd like you to meet my husband." You saw Sherlock's eyes widen in surprise but he played along. "It's lovely to meet you. I'm Sh-" He caught himself just in time. "Shawn."
The oldest girl smiled politely. "Alondra. These are my sisters, Elizabeth and Victoria." She indicated each girl in turn. "Say hi." She addressed the twins. They were evidently immensely shy, but they managed a weak 'hello'. She smiled. "Sorry, they're not keen on strangers."
"It's fine. It was great talking to you." You smiled in return.

When you were out of earshot, Sherlock turned to you. "Husband?" He asked.
"Sorry, it was the first thing that came to me. I figured you didn't want me saying who you really were, Shawn." You teased him. Still, he was completely serious. "You could've said friend or brother or something."
You stopped walking. "I'm sorry. Like I said, it was just the first thing that came to me. Are you really upset?"
"No! Just...surprised." There was complete silence as you packed up the remainder of your supplies from the night before. Finally, he spoke. "Is that something that interests you?" He paused, swallowed hard. "Being married?"
You looked up at him in surprise. "What? No! I mean, I don't know, maybe. But it was just an act, Sherlock."
"I know." He looked increasingly uncomfortable.
"So what did they say?" You asked, trying to change the subject. He concurred, summarising the conversation from a few minutes before.
"Mrs. Connor is really skeptical. She is upset at the cook- Harrison- because he evidently chose the girls that she loved most. And yet, she agreed. I think she's some sort of apprentice- like he's training her. He's a psychopathic sadist and she's immensly submissive. She eventually concurred after he threatened to go on without her. He did say that this is their endgame. It's going to be this evening right here at the riverside."
You felt sick. "How could they do it?"
"I don't know, love." His voice softened. "People are so often monsters."
"They're just kids."

Sherlock's POV:

I noticed the outward signs that you were once again breaking down and receding into yourself. I immediately realised what you'd done. It wasn't very hard to deduce. I set our bag down and gathered you into my arms. You buried your face in my chest, your whole body quivering as you cried. I kissed your hair, rubbed your back. I had no idea what to say. I stood there for a while, holding you while you cried
"Let's go home, love." I said, after a long moment. You lifted your head and nodded weakly, managing a sad smile. "Okay."
I felt awful, not being able to help, but there was really nothing I could do.

You were quiet the whole way home, looking out the window of the cab. I couldn't see your face, but I held your hand and you didn't pull it away- a good sign.

"You need to rest, hon." I directed you to your flat as soon as we walked through the door, but you resisted. "Can I come upstairs?"
"Of course." I murmured, helping you up the stairs, though I knew you didn't need it. Somehow it made me feel good- having someone to be protective of. I had to wonder briefly what had happened to me, but I didn't care. I loved these new feelings.
You headed for the sofa as soon as we walked into my flat, but I turned you toward my bedroom. I pulled the covers back and you got in, smiling. I closed the blinds and returned to the bed and kissed your forehead. "Get some sleep love."
"Don't we need to work on the case?" You asked, worriedly.
"No, there's plenty of time. I'll wake you up when I need to."
"Okay. Thanks." You smiled and I turned out the light, closing the door quietly.

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