Safety's Sake {Susanna}

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"Are you all alright?" John asks us, slightly out of breath from running down the street and through the gathering crowd.

"Oh, John, it's just terrible! The gas line was cut and it exploded! Sherlock says the arsonists did it!" Missus Hudson explains and once John is assured that Rosie is safe and well, he turns to me.

"Are you okay, Susanna?"

"Mostly. I have to change migraine medications and the side effects for the one I'm trying right now are horrid."

"Where's Sherlock?"

"Lestrade." I gesture to the DI and the army doctor hurries over to get the updated story. Shortly thereafter the three enter the building together. I lean against the door of the ambulance and take slow, deep breaths.

"Oh, dearie, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Missus Hudson asks. I nod and she lets the matter be.

Fifteen minutes pass before the guys emerge from the building. Sherlock has his coat, remarkably undamaged, and is carrying my things out. The three walk up and I sit up a bit, "So..?"

"This was done by the arsonists. If you hadn't detected the gas then we might be worse off," Sherlock says and sets my stuff on the ground beside me, "You still aren't doing well." I give a small shake of the head in response.

"No. I'm still nauseous and fatigued. How bad is it inside?"

"The explosion took out the kitchen window and several of the appliances, as well as most of my experiments. If you hadn't alerted me then I might very well be in an ambulance again, as well as yourself. John's chair will need to be reupholstered, it took most of the blast. Other than that, the damage is minimal."

"Oh.."

"The good thing is that you guys got out and called the force over as quickly as you could." Lestrade offers and I nod. The DI is called over by another officer and leaves us to ourselves.

I look up at Sherlock, "You were the target, Sherlock."

"Yes, I know. It means that the arsonists are seeking vengeance on me, which means I encountered them or someone close to them in the path and sent them to prison. I believe that your presence and fortunate intervention foiled their ultimate plans for today, which means that they will strike again."

"So who would do this? Who could do this?" John asks.

"I do not know, John. And I don't like not knowing."

"But you must have an idea as to who-"

"It could be any one out of a number of enemies, John. I will get to them in a moment, but Susanna needs to get home and the Yard has not given us clearance to stay in the building until the pipes are replaced and refitted and the clean up is over with."

"I can stay with Missus Turner." Missus Hudson states.

"I might as well take Rosie back to the house." Right. He never sold their suburban home, just moved back in with Sherlock. Rosie will need the extra space too. I also realize the other component. I'll be moving into 221B Baker Street soon enough and John respects that we'll be a newlywedded couple. The thought makes me blush despite myself.

"Then I will stay with you and Rosie. It will only be a short time anyways."

"So we've got that figured out then." John comments. The rest of us nod and Sherlock turns back to me.

"You need to get home and rest, Love."

"I don't think I'm fit to drive. It's worse than I thought." I reply. He considers for a moment.

"Given that it was a remote detonator and that the pipe had been leaking for approximately two hours, it is highly likely that the arsonists have been staking out the building. They are obviously after me and didn't care if they took someone else out in the process, but since you raised the alarm about the gas it is also likely that they will have figured out that you ruined their plans. For safety's sake, and that of your health, I will take you home and make sure that you are watched."

"Okay..."

"Come along then." He helps me to my feet and I pick up my things, bidding adieu to the others. We catch a taxi to my place and Sherlock puts his homeless network to work at watching me and the others, and also bringing in information about the arsonists.

Sherlock makes sure that I'm safe and comfortable before heading back out to try and catch the arsonists once and for all. Unable to restrain myself further, I retreat to the bathroom and ride out the nausea until I'm so exhausted that I drag myself back to the chaise and don't even bother to change before zonking out.

Thank you for reading! Any theories? Just curious ;)

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