- c h a p t e r   e l e v e n -

"Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?" Emma asked, whimpering slightly. "Don't we have to...to...report to the police? Aren't you going to turn me in now?" Her voice swelled with emotion as she continued with her words, trying to keep herself contained and failing immensely.

"We won't be taking any further action on anything until after we go back to Baker Street and figure this all out. This has gotten far more complicated than I was anticipating, but no matter. All you have to know is that we're going to 221B."

"Good," Irene said, hiding away the fact she felt somewhat nervous to be heading back to that place. She didn't know what would be awaiting her - both Sherlock and Emma were upset with her, albeit for two entirely different reasons. "It's been ages since I went to Baker Street."

As nervewracked as Irene felt, it could not come close to the level of suffering Emma was going through on an internal level. She was attempting to keep all inside, something very difficult and messy to do for someone as loud and vocal about what was going through her mind as she usually was.

This meant that she often needed to stop and collect herself before moving onwards at all. Emma convinced herself that she'd already shed far too many tears, that all of the crying simply needed to cease if she wanted to go on about everything the correct way.

The most awkward (but luckily the most silent) part of the entire journey ended up being the ride back to Sherlock's flat. Everyone wanted to know precisely what was going on in the other two's minds, trying to find out what would end up happening in the end of it all.

When the trio arrived back at Baker Street, Irene took the initiative to walk in front of the others despite not knowing whether or not she'd be able to get into the flat. Whereas she knew that Emma had taken to forgetting to lock her doors, she had a feeling that Sherlock wouldn't be so sloppy in anything that he'd done.

Nevertheless, she was positive she'd be able to get in without any trouble. The door would be unlocked simply because he hadn't been the last one to leave the building. John and Mary would've been in quite a rush to get to the crime scene themselves. In their hurry, they must've left the doors completely unlocked.

But before she could get all the way into the flat, she was interrupted by someone standing in the hallway. He made an enormous as soon as Sherlock walked in, Emma lagging behind by just a few steps despite her apprehension.

"Mr. Holmes!" Alex exclaimed, taking such an enormous step that it seemed as if he were attempting to cross a rather wide stream instead of walk towards the consulting detective. His eyes flitted between both Emma and Irene as he attempted to figure out what was going on at the current moment.

Within a few moments, he started making his own theory as for what was going on. He knew Emma was somehow guilty because of her glitter note, but of course there was also the issue of figuring out who this other woman was and what was going on with her.

Then it hit him.

"You mentioned that multiple people might've been involved in the robbery from the beryl Coronet," Alex cried, starting to realise what was going on. He took a step towards Irene, who simply looked irritated. "Is she her? Is that the woman who stole from me?"

"She is the Woman, but I don't believe you have any clue what you're talking about," Sherlock responded. He pushed his way to be in front and led both Irene and Emma into 221B, leaving a furious Alex behind him.

"I will find out about what's happening here," Alex said. "You took my case, and you know that this Emma woman has something to do with it!"

Sherlock continued to ignore his yelling, pushing through and stepping into 221B. While Irene paraded in and immediately made sure to make herself comfortable, Emma was far more apprehensive about it all. She didn't want to experience anything that she knew was coming for.

"Irene Adler, the Woman," Sherlock said, pacing back and forth without looking in anyone in particular.

"It's been a while, I know," Irene sighed. "I would catch you up on all that I've been up to, but it appears you already know it all due to Emma."

"It's not my fault," Emma spewed out.

"I never said that it was your fault," Irene replied, raising her eyebrows as she glanced towards the other woman in the room. Emma refused to take a seat, inwardly thinking that it would make her seem like even less of a force to be reckoned with than she already appeared to be. If anything, it appeared that with a simple touch she might topple over.

When she realised that she was getting absolutely nowhere, she ended up sinking into the one of the seats across from Irene and then drew her fingers through her hair. This was her way of preparing herself to say something difficult, something she didn't want to say.

"I hate you," Emma said, not directing her words towards either person in the room in particular. If anything, it seemed as if she was saying it to both of them. "I hate you for doing this to me. I thought that for once everything was going right, but it was every bit as much of a mess as it's always been."

"You brought this upon yourself, Emma," Sherlock said. "I'm aware that won't do anything to change your opinion on the matters, but it is true. You need to work to be less susceptible to being persuaded and turned the wrong way if you want to avoid having problems like this."

"Last time I checked, your name wasn't Natalie Thompson!" Emma hissed in response.

Sherlock's brows furrowed into a pile of creases as he looked towards her. Irene's face was similar, but also with a hint of amusement over the way this was turning out. She didn't enjoy the negative aura making the air thick, but the fact of the matter was that this was very entertaining. Sherlock and Emma sketched themselves out to be entirely different, when in reality they shared many similarities -

like being clueless about the other.

"What?" he asked, the single word snapping through the air.

"You're not my bloody therapist, Sherlock," Emma replied. As she became more intense, her eyes started to pop and she began leaning forwards. Her hands remained on the chair, however, as if she were holding herself back.

"Oh, be quiet, Emma-" Sherlock began.

"You're as much my therapist as she is Madison Coates!" Emma exclaimed, sending an accusatory glance in Irene's direction.

"But she does just as much to your mind as any therapist would," Sherlock retorted, pleased he'd been able to come up with something to help him remain on top in the argument. "She couldn't have taken more than a handful of conversations for her to start taking over your head."

It was true - it hadn't taken Irene all too long to realise just how easily influenced and changed Emma could be towards other people. She always wanted to be adored and paid attention to, and she would do just about anything to allow that to happen. But instead of achieving those ends, she usually ended up making people loathe her.

Yes, Emma did succeed in getting herself attention - but when she did get it, she ended up losing it in the worst ways she could imagine. That was why she had been getting more and more desperate as time went on, doing stranger and more intense things in order to keep flinging herself back into the spotlight.

That was one of the reasons Irene had been pleasantly surprised when Emma had agreed to steal along with her. She'd been expecting her to loathe the idea of sneaking around in the shadows and avoiding attention, but apparently parts of Emma had changed. She'd become desperate for money, and nothing else would get in the way of that.

Then, of course, everything else had fallen more or less into place for Irene. She did whatever she had to do in order to keep up the illusion of being Madison Coates, and then went about the rest of her business. Emma had been an important part of the plan, but she was never the main focus.

"I do apologise, Emma. I did what I believed I had to do, and you did what you believed you had to do. If that man hadn't gone to Sherlock with a case, I have a feeling that we would've continued with our operations. It was all going well...very well..."

Emma forced her eyes shut before she replied, saying, "You weren't going to carry on with it all that much longer, were you? You said yourself - it was all just a way you could get to Sherlock. That was your plan."

"I highly doubt she made an elaborate plan in order to direct your life in a certain direction that would end up culminating in the moment she and I united," Sherlock said. "Don't you see, Emma? She was planning to continue everything with you. I believe she must've been trying to get herself closer and closer to this flat so that she could meet me again, on her own time..."

"Of course," Emma replied, her voice as flat as she could manage it. She was trying to force herself to be numb to what was going on (and ultimately failing) "Of course that's what was going on."

"Funny, isn't it?" Irene asked, examining her nails with a casual glance. "It used to be that you were the one seeking me out in everything. Now how the tables have turned."

"Might have something to do with me being thrown in with everything," Emma grumbled. She didn't want to consider herself responsible for anything Irene had done, but it was clear she played a part within everything. She'd been fundemental in bringing Irene and Sherlock back together, even if she'd been unwitting the entire duration of the last several years.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Irene noted, tilting her head slightly. "Is there a reason for that?"

"Is there a reason for that?" Emma repeated after her as disdainfully as she could manage. She noticed in the back of her mind that Sherlock had completely dropped out of the conversation, but she didn't do a thing about it. There were more important things to worry about. "Of course there is - you're sitting right in front of me, aren't you?"

"Listen, Emma - I don't want you to have to remember me as a bad part of your life," Irene said, emitting a sigh. "I've been there for so much of the good parts of your life and well as the bad."

"No," Emma just about whispered in response. "Madison Coates was there for me throughout the good and bad over the past few years. But Madison Coates doesn't exist."

"Emma, don't..." Irene said, sighing once again.

"What are you going to do about it?" Emma exclaimed. "Haven't you already done enough? Just let me have this. It's so painful, but I need to go through it all...please. It's like...it's like going through everything with Owen all over again."

"Owen?" Irene echoed. "What does this have to do with Owen?"

"The fact that I don't want to be here right now," Emma replied, knowing that the other two in the room were more than intelligent to decipher what she meant by it. She didn't want to have to go back to the psych ward, but she certainly didn't feel like staying in the midst of this mess at 221B Baker Street. It wouldn't leave her alone no matter what she did.

"Perhaps it's time for you and I to go, Emma," Irene said, starting to get out of her chair. This was enough to alert Sherlock to her movement and make him snap over to see what she was doing. He had a case to work on, and he wasn't about to leave it alone.

"Now, there's more to be said before I can just let you leave," Sherlock said. "What does Avery Holder have to do with either of you?"

"Client," Irene said, simply. "She adored me, gave me the information I needed. Emma and I were never intending to steal the car, it would be far too much difficulty. Besides, I promised Avery that I wouldn't steal the car - she knew she'd end up getting the blame for it."

"And Emma, you had no idea of this?" Sherlock asked, somewhat amused by this. "You never questioned why your Maddie always had so much information, how she knew how to do this and where to do that?"

Emma didn't respond at first, only stared up at Sherlock with her eyes glazed over with tears. Then something snapped within her, and she could no longer hold anything in.

"Damn it!" Emma screeched. "Damn it, damn it, damn it! Everything just has to go wrong for me, doesn't it? I try one thing in order to fix this is or that and somehow only manage to get into something worse!"

"You know that's not what truly happens, Emma," Irene sighed. "You've just trained yourself only to see the bad."

"Well, no matter how hard I try I can never see anything good!" she shrieked in response.

The conversation faded away until there was nothing in particular to experience unless you were to watch Sherlock pacing around as he thought about what to do. He'd been just about silent ever since Emma and Irene had gotten deeper into their own conversation, instead choosing to pay attention to his own thoughts.

"Have you made a decision yet?" Irene called over towards Sherlock. "You seem to be taking awfully long time to decide whether or not you want to turn Emma and I in for all that we've done."

"An awfully long time?" Sherlock repeated after her. "If anything, it must be the contrary - I made a decision on the matter an 'awfully long time' ago. I just wanted to hear what the two of you would say to one another when you believed I wasn't listening to you."

"Then what are you going to do?" Emma asked. "Are you going to turn me in?"

"Turning you in would require turning in Irene Adler as well," Sherlock replied.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, displeased by this answer. "Of course you'd have to turn both of us in."

"What it means is that I cannot turn either of you in," Sherlock said. "Consider yourself lucky."

A/N You know, despite of all the pain I've gone through to write all of this thus far, I feel really proud of this story. It's already nearing the halfway mark - seems like it just barely begun! But yeah - very pleased about all that!