level of concern- twenty one pilots

tewkesbury asks me, while enola sleeps a couple feet away.

"from home, i mean." he clarifies, now sitting on the log next to me.

"we didn't want to go to miss harrison's finishing school for young ladies." i tell him as he chuckles. "why have you?"

i begin to slice his brown hair off with the knife enola had sharpened.

"well. uh, a tree branch broke above me while i was collecting wild mushrooms. it should've crushed me, but i managed to roll out of the way, an-" he stutters now looking at me as i have a chunk of his soft hair in my hand. "and i realized that..." he stops, staring into my hazel eyes.

"what?"

"you'll laugh at me."

"i won't." i say shrugging my shoulders, why would i?

he looks at me, then down to the fire in front of us.

"my life seemed to flash before me. i was just about to take my seat in the house of lords. i had these ideas about how we might progress the estate. but my family were set on me joining the army and then going overseas, just like my uncle." he tells me in an almost scared voice. "and i realized i was scared, scared i would hate every second of the rest of my life." he says, his hands shaking as he held them together in front of him.

i look at him in the eye before he turns away from me. "why would i ever laugh at that?"

"don't i sound pathetic?"

"no." i tell him as he finally meets my stare.

"why were they going to send you to the finishing school?" he asks me, to avoid the question i simply turn away and sigh.

"in the morning, enola will have us move fast. the bowler hat man will be hot on your tail-"

"where's your destination? i'm going to-" he cuts me off.

"london." i state as he just laughs to himself.

"well, then, shall we, uhm, stick together?" he recommends as i send him a gentle smile.

"if you like." he finishes with a light chuckle.

"no." i hear enola shout flatly from the side of the log.

"we'll all get to london and go our separate ways, apart from flora and i. understood?" she tells us, while tewkesbury looks down rather disappointed.

"understood." he tells her.

enola lays back down as i stand up and continue to cut his hair.

"totally. ah! entirely." he says in a pained voice.

"do you have to be quite so brutal with the hair?" he asks me.

"yes. you did say you wanted me to cut it after all." i inform him.

the next morning, enola, tewkesbury, and i are all sitting on the back of a sheep carriage.

"well, you would say that." enola says as we all laugh.

i'm sat in the middle, she's on my left, and tewkesburys on my right.

we continue to move down the dirt path as we're surrounded by large fields of grass.

we arrive in town as the sheep carriage comes to a stop.

enola goes under the wooden bar, hat in mouth, exiting.

i do the same as tewkesbury stays seated.

"oh, so this is where we part?" he asks us, looking more at me than enola.

this boy must have a staring problem.

"it is." i tell him, joking a bow.

he looks down for a moment before looking back up at us.

"then, thank you, florence holmes... and enola holmes, for helping me here." he says with a sweet smile.

"you were supposed to have forgotten those names." enola says from next to me

"then you'll both have to find another." he says softly, raising his eyebrows at me, as the carriage wheels away.

he continues to look at us as his figure becomes smaller.

enola pulls me by my arm as we begin to walk, which just so happens to be in the direction tewkesbury is going.

-flashback-

"oh, you've time enough for the world.

let it do it's damage later." eudoria says to her two daughters, while picking fruits from a tree.

-end of flashback-

enola puts an arm out in front of me as a horse drawn carriage whooshes in front of us.

"oh my." i say aloud, as we continue to cross the very busy street.

"out of the sodding way, boys!" a man shouts as he rides his horse drawn carriage next to us.

a man on the pavement plays some sort of instrument, in which i've never seen in my lifetime.

another man yells. "lords debate reform bill! case of the missing marquess!" as he holds an armful of newspapers.

a tall man in a hat runs right in front of enola and i, shoving a box towards us.

"a shilling apiece!" he yells as we shriek and jump.

we walk quickly walk away as he continues on to other men.

i feel a slight crunch beneath my feet as i step on some sort of paper.

i was too focused on keeping up with enola's quick pace to pay any attention.

me neither." i tell her as we walk by an elderly woman who seems to have blood along her forehead.

we walk by some sort of dress shop as a man yells from a small podium.

"without this reform, this country isn't ours, it's theirs!"

the crowd in front of him cheers as i watch in confusion.

"we must petition the lords. and we've not only got to do it for ourselves, but for our children!" he shouts as the crowd cheers once again.

"vote for change!" another man shouts in the distance.

i begin, as we stare through the glass of a dress store window.

i look over to enola.

"this is our chance! demand the vote!" another man begins. "vote for all men!"

the crowd cheers before him.

"vote for all men"

third person pov-

sherlock sits in a brown leathered seat in the library, reading the newspaper.

'the lords face crucial vote'

the front page read.

"no one in the trains,

no one on the boats," mycroft begins as he walks towards sherlock, taking a seat in the chair next to him.

"no one anywhere. those girls have simply vanished." he continues. "of course, it doesn't help that england's suddenly consumed by this ridiculous marquess." he tells sherlock, folding his newspaper in half to show him the article.

"sir?" an attendant asks mycroft.

"sherry, please."

"certainly, sir."

"you haven't been offered it, have you?" mycroft asks sherlock, who's still looking down at his newspaper.

"what?"

"the marquess case," he says making himself clear, looking back down at his copy of the 'pall mall gazette' "i knew his father, obnoxious sort. liberal, but worth a fortune." mycroft informs him.

"i have, and i have refused it." sherlock says, tearing his attention away from his newspaper to look at mycroft for a split second. "i'm rather more consumed elsewhere."

"oh, in finding mother?" mycroft asks.

"in finding our sisters."

"no." he responds pointing a finger at sherlock.

"no." he repeats with a slight chuckle.

"your job, i made clear, was to find mother." he continues with his finger still out.

"i'm looking for her too, as will, no doubt, enola and flora." sherlock tells him, picking up his glass and taking a sip.

mycroft slowly puts his finger down as he fumbles with the crease of his newspaper. "you never cared about them before." he says looking down at it.

"they're only 16." sherlock snaps, sending mycroft, who's now looking his way, a small smile.

"you haven't given our name in the search for them." mycroft begins.

"of course not. i don't want anyone knowing our business any more than you do."

"oh, don't worry, little brother. they may have escaped us for now, but i have the best police officers in london looking for two children matching their descriptions.

and they will find those stupid little girls and bring them back to us." he states, as sherlock stares down at his newspaper, distracted by the sections heading.

'disturbance on london express.

three boys leap from train.'

sherlock blinks with a barely noticeable smile, as he closes the newspaper and raises an eyebrow at his older brother, who's tilting his copy towards him.

"reform. god help us. if there's one thing this country doesn't need, it's more uneducated voters." he begins in a stern voice as he opens his newspaper.

an older man sits with his head back on the brown leathered couch, snoring.

"england is going to pot."

ok so i really wanted to say this, but didn't want to interrupt in the middle of the chapter but...

when mycroft was talking about how he has the best police officers looking for flora and enola - ACAB :)

ok bye bye !