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Whipped	By : This_is_The_Phantom_Lady Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3753 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This contains major triggers for people with issues with self-harm. I do not own or profit on any official BBC Sherlock characters or any other part of BBC Sherlock.

Chapter List
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Her words stole away my courage; so expertly.
She reduced me to a child… her condescending ways never ended even if she dressed her words in what seemed like it could have been genuine caring.
But I had a feeling I knew better.
I was just not strong enough to walk away, was I?
She would talk me out of it… She would make me need her; make me depend on her. I would always come crawling back for more.
She grabbed my hand the moment I started whimpering again.
My hands were above my head; still joined with the strips.
Her fingers twined with mine… she was trying her best to comfort me.
My whimpers weren’t from the overwhelming pain though… it was the defeat that caused the sounds of weakness to come from my throat.
The defeat of knowing I didn’t have a choice…
She called me strong but in truth I was as weak as a new born baby in her presence.
Depending on her guidance.
“Oh no” she whispered under her breath but this time I heard her clearly.
She dropped my hand back to the pillow as if it was a hot potato.
“Please don’t move… I’ll come back” there was a hint of an odd shiver in her voice.
And lie still I did… what choice had she given me anyway?
She left me alone with my own thoughts and fears.
‘oh no’. What did that mean, what was wrong? Why did she sound worried?
What was so bad that it caused an uttering like that; from her?
Was it something I had done wrong?
…
When Miss A. came back she was holding a scissor, a towel and a first aid kit.
She placed both on the bed and sat herself down.
“Why didn’t you tell me your wrist became infected? It must hurt” she let her fingers trail over the hand of my hurt arm.
“You’re burning up”
She was gentle and sweet with me now. Ugh…
I had indeed noticed the warmth and the pain; but it was part of why I did what I did to myself.
It was never just about the initial ‘hit’… it was the long term effects as well.
Self-destruction at its finest… and darkest.
So no, I hadn’t exactly thought of mentioning it.
She cut the strip ties open with the scissors but the freedom didn’t feel at all sweet.
Mostly because it wasn’t freedom…
She placed the towel under my wrist and quickly started unwrapping my wrist and my eyes closed… I couldn’t bear to see the look on her face.
“Mira I’ll call a doctor to come and have a look at you” she let me know as carefully as she could.
I could hear the disgust in her voice at the sight.
I shook my head; no. no… Please, no.
Why was I so scared?
I didn’t want a professional to see what I had done… they would take me away. They would lock me up and take away any chance of me finding that calm when I needed it… I needed my outlet, I needed something to take away the chaos… I needed it… I needed…
“Hey it’s okay” she saw the panic in me and brushed her hand over my face. “He’s discrete. He doesn’t ask questions”.
“No” I finally mastered my voice; it was a fragmented sound though.
“This is not up for discussion” the cold returned to her, slowly frosting her. Once again I had no say…
“Please” I started crying; the panic got the better of me.
“Mira, your wound needs to be taken care of. As long as you’re under my roof I will have you healthy”. Her voice was so devoid of emotion. She was giving me orders… orders about my personal health.
“He’ll take me away” my vocal chords finally mustered a somewhat coherent, if broken, sentence.
“Trust me he won’t. He’ll tend to the wound and leave. I will be here the whole time. I won’t let him take you” her cool hand was waving away the tears that fell from my eyes.
“You promise?” I opened my eyes and looked into her. I had to know if she actually meant what she said next…
“I promise” her lips curled into a kind smile as she realized my eyes were opened again.
“He really doesn’t ask questions… I’ve had to use him in the past” She continued to make her promises to keep me calm.
How many times had her clients ended up needing medical assistance?
And for what?
Did I even want to know that?
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