No Vacancy at 221c: A BBC Sherlock Fanfic

Celestia Tells All

Mary Watson knocked lightly on the door before entering the dark flat. She shivered immediately and whipped her head around to spot the thermostat for the heating. When she had successfully set the temperature to one above freezing, she made her way across the room and down the hall. Cracking the door open slightly, she found Celestia fully awake, sitting up in a cocoon of blankets. Her eyes were open and the dark slashes seemed to be bleeding silent tears, tears of hopelessness. Mary cleared her throat to signal her arrival and gently sat down in front of her.

Tenderly she stroked her knee and sighed before finding words to speak. "John sent me down, thought you might want someone to talk to other than those dull old men." Mary laughed half-heartedly, distracted by the quick movements of Celeste's fingers as they twisted themselves around a small ring over and over. "Have you been taken care of?" She had obviously been relatively well kept as her hair, while a bit messy from her nap had remained decent and her clothing was new. She even smelled faintly of roses and vanilla.

"Unfortunately," Mary was stunned to hear. "Too well for a prisoner I should think."

"Well... How about a nice warm bath? You obviously need to relax," Mary noted, concerned by the trembling of the small figure beside her. With a nod, Celestia consented and Mary helped her disentangle from the blankets and enter the bathroom. When the tub had been filled to a steaming brim, Celestia climbed into the huge stone basin, under the fragrant bubbles, and let Mary brush her hair gently. The sconces on the wall lit the room dimly and gave off a relaxing light Celestia would probably never see.

"Are you going to tell me what that is?" inquired Mary, referring to the ring Celestia still absently twirled.

Her face froze, skipping a breath.

"My wedding ring," she said suddenly.

Now Mary froze. "Your what?" Celestia failed to answer.

"I thought you and Sherlock were together," Mary added in confusion.

"We are."

A few moments of silence.

"But... you aren't married to him."

"No." Her hollow tone was beginning to sound like a monotone digital voice.

Mary continued to stroke her hair tenderly. "Listen," she urged sweetly, "I understand if you didn't want to tell Sherlock some things, but you can tell me. I just want to help you."

"I was treated well, given everything I would ever need. I could even see at first." Her voice was barely audible. "The finest foods, the perfect living conditions, but no one was ever seen. My meals appeared, my bed was made, all by ghosts. The doors taunted me with their endless locks. I got through one once, it only led to another door, and a night in the room." She shuddered. Mary waited patiently, hanging on each word. "Then I had a choice," she cringed, knowing the consequences knowledge delivered.

"What choice, dear?" Silently she lifted a dripping arm to show the tattoo. "C" "M".

"But what does it mean? I'm sorry I don't understand-"

"My wedding ring." Celestia held her hand out, opening her palm to display a silver band and a single solitaire diamond, begging her to understand.

When she gestured for her to take it, Mary placed the ring in her pocket hesitantly. "Are you sure you don't want to keep it?"

Celestia's answer was quick and firm, "No. Please take it."

For days Mary pestered Celeste with only relative success. "She kept going on with his ring," she had told Sherlock (along with everything else Celeste had said). "When I asked her about it she insisted it was her wedding ring and showed me that 'C' 'M' tattoo she has."