I unbolted the door, thinking that I had imagined the such familiar voices that I had heard time and time again.
It was true. The Doctor and Sherlock Holmes were stood on her doorstep.
"Er... Hi." I replied, a little involuntary shake in my voice.
"Miss... Erm... I apologise, I don't know your name." The Doctor spoke this time.
"It's Hailey, you idiot." At this, the Doctor gave Sherlock a glance. "Oh, come on. Don't look at me like that. Everyone's an idiot."
"Well you just think you're it. Don't you? 'Ooh, look at me! I have a space box!'"
I just continued to watch the jokes passing between the two most amazing people on the planet. Well, until now, I didn't even know that they were on the planet.
"Look, will you shut up, Mr Holmes. Hailey is who we've come to speak to. Not just bicker away on her doorstep at twelve thirty in the morning!"
"It's okay, I thought it was quite funny." I was still in shock, and small sentences was the most that I could give.
"You're in your pyjamas."
"Well observed, Doctor."
"Alright, alright. If you think you're so smart, tell me more." I knew that the Doctor never wanted to be out-smarted, and it was hilarious watching Sherlock do so.
"Shall we go inside first? Of course, only if Hailey wants us to?" Sherlock looked at her stunned face.
"Sure, come on in."
I opened the door wider for them, and they stepped inside, immediately heading to the darkened living room. Sherlock was glancing at everything that he passed, no doubt analysing everything. The Doctor seemed to want to scan everything with his sonic screwdriver.
"I'm going to get changed, be back in a moment."
"Do you want a drink?" I asked, returning to the living room, my mother had always taught me to be polite.
"Tea will be fine." Sherlock answered, still scrutinizing his surroundings.
"Um... Yeah tea is good." The Doctor didn't seem too sure.
I went to the kitchen, methodically getting everything out to make three cups of tea.
"So, tell me about Hailey." I overheard the Doctor ask Sherlock.
"Well, she has two dogs and three horses. She recently fell out with her best friend, and is not in a relationship. She is nervous for her family, but she also has a sick brother. She loves listening to music. And..." Sherlock stopped.
"And what?" The Doctor asked impatiently.
"She is bullied and suffers depression and nervousness."
They are both quiet for a moment, before I decide to interrupt them, and enter the living room. I march past the Doctor sat on the sofa, and Sherlock, who has discovered the comfort of the arm chair. I sit on the stool, placing the tray of teas on the table. I let the silence continue for a little longer before I interrupt.
"How did you do that?"
"You have dog hair and horse hair of three different colours on your trousers. Your house also smells of dog, there are dog toys on the floor and a horse harness hung up under the stairs. You fell out with your best friend because you have the appearance of having lack of sleep recently and crying a lot. The relationship status is a lucky guess. You keep glancing at the clock, possibly for the time when your parents return home. You have needle marks on your arms, most likely from donating blood frequently. Your headphone port on your phone is worn around the edges, which also suggests shaky hands from nervousness. You don't like eye contact, and you have scars, which says bullying and depression." Sherlock finishes triumphantly.
"Impressive, Mr Holmes." The Doctor remarks.
"You are correct on everything. I'm nervous for my parents because they have been in an MVA and I'm nervous for a reoccurance. My brother-"
"Excuse me, a what?" The Doctor interrupts, "what in space is an MVA?"
"A Motor Vehicle Accident." Sherlock informs him, before nodding at me to continue.
"My brother has cancer, and I donate blood to keep him in platelets. Yes, I am currently single. I have suffered from depression, and music was my escape. I still suffer from nervousness, due to the bullying, brother's condition and worry of parents." I watch both men steadily, as they take the information in.
"Excellent, Mr Holmes." The Doctor says, sounding annoyed, but impressed.
"But wait. What about your friend? You didn't tell us about her." Sherlock watches my expression carefully.
I look him in the eye while I answer, "you're wrong about her."
Sherlock raises his eyebrows.
"Clara?" The Doctor asks, his face going blank and distant.
"That was her name. I know, it's the name of one of your companions. But, trust me, I don't know who your companion is. My friend, Clara, died at aged seventeen." I tell the Doctor.
"Oh, okay. It's just... I haven't seen my Clara in such a long time." He says, still staring off into the distance.
"So. Back to your friend." Sherlock reverts back to my friend. "You didn't fall out with her?"
"No. She died in a car accident. Three weeks ago." I reply, shakily.
Sherlock is silent in thought for a moment. "Damn it! Dead! Dead! I should have seen it!"
"Sherlock." The Doctor says roughly. Sherlock ignores him. "Sherlock! God dammit! Show a little more respect."
"Why?! She died three weeks ago! Three weeks! How can she still be upset?"
I stare silently at Sherlock. He realises what he has done.
"Wrong thing to say?" He says quietly.