Brother Dearest; Chapter 6

Hang on; help is on its way

I’ll be there as fast as I can

“Hang on” a tiny voice did say

From somewhere deep inside the inner man

(Little River Band-Help is on its way)

After panicking sometime after John was taken by Moriarty, which was not Sherlock’s way, he started to think of it like it was a new case. He had put photos of John on the wall like he had done in other cases and was looking at them, pondering. He stayed up all night, only to sleep for a few hours, not eating and only drinking some tea. Mrs Hudson came upstairs every now and again worrying. But he brushed all her worrying aside and pushed her out of the door. He phoned with Lestrade if there was any news; Mycroft came over more then was normal for him with a concerned look on his face.

‘Sherlock I really feel you should get some rest and eat something’ Mycroft tried to persuade his brother.

‘Oh please Mycroft; don’t baby me and leave me be’ Sherlock waved his hand as if he was brushing off a fly.

‘He has not phoned you I gather?’ Mycroft asked carefully.

Sherlock turned his head. Mycroft saw he had bags under his eyes and his eyes where reddish from not sleeping. He sighed; ‘No Mycroft he hasn’t. If he does I’ll let you know. Goodbye’

‘Sherlock…’

‘Goodbye!’ Sherlock walked over to his brother and practically pushed him out of the door and shut it behind him. He could just hear his brother’s voice from the other side softly saying; ‘I know it must hurt Sherlock. Take care of yourself please. You can’t help him, if you don’t take care of yourself!’ And then he heard Mycroft walking down. He stayed there listening until he heard the front door closing.

Mycroft was right of course, he thought. He needed to eat. He needed sleep too. He felt so tired all of a sudden.  He must have stayed awake for about 3 days now, more or less, walking around London, staying up looking at his wall, looking at the pictures of John, thinking.

He walked to the kitchen and looked in the cupboard. There was only some moulded bread. That meant he had to go out to do some grocery shopping and he really didn’t feel up to that right about now. He was so tired. He walked to his bedroom, dragging his feet. He really should be out there looking for John and his mother, but the sleep was taking over his brain. He never in his life had felt so tired. He fell on his bed, not bothering to undress and immediately fell asleep.

In the middle of the night he woke up from a frightening nightmare. John’s face was screaming at him without making any sound. He mouthed a word; ‘Help. Help me Sherlock’ and then all of a sudden a loud scream and when he awoke he realised it was he who was screaming. He closed his own mouth, hoping he hadn’t awakened Mrs Hudson. His head hurt and he his stomach rumbled.

A knock on the door told him that Mrs Hudson had heard him screaming; ‘Sherlock? Are you alright? Sherlock! It’s me, open the door please’

He ruffled with his hands through his hair and scuffed to the door. ‘I’m sorry Mrs Hudson’ he said with a guilt stricken face ‘I didn’t want to wake you. I was having a nightmare’

‘Oh Sherlock, sleeping in your clothes again, dear?’ Mrs Hudson took a good look at him; ‘You haven’t eaten for days have you? Come on, I’ll make you breakfast’ and when Sherlock started to protest she said; ‘No I don’t want any arguments from you’ She took him by the hand and he went willingly too hungry to protest further.

It was almost 5 o’clock in the morning when they finished they’re early breakfast. Sherlock hadn’t eaten this much in ages! Mrs Hudson was standing at her kitchen sink with a smug face; grinning.

And that’s when Sherlock’s phone rang.

Both of them jumped up; scared. Mrs Hudson’s hands where fluttering about and Sherlock’s face was turning green; if he’d only not eaten so much…

He picked up his phone; ‘Hello?’

‘Sherlock, Greg here. We found your mother’

                                                         

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Sherlock was told to stay where he was, but of course he couldn’t. It took him only 10 minutes to be at the sight where Greg had said his mother was found.

‘What did I tell you?’ Greg said when he saw him.

‘I know, shut up, where is she?’ Sherlock wanted to continue walking but Greg stopped him.

‘Sherlock, stop’

‘Greg? Is she alright? Tell me she is alright?’

‘She is alive but that’s all I can tell you so far. The medics are working on her. And no you can’t go there now, let them do their job first’

Sherlock paced back and forth until Mycroft showed. Greg could tell his whole story from the start and they both started pacing.

Finally the medics were done and their mother was stable enough to be transported to the hospital. As they came walking with her on a stretcher Sherlock and Mycroft both ran towards her. ‘Will she make it?’ Sherlock asked a medic.

‘She’s badly injured sir, we will know more in the next couple of hours. You have to go to the hospital and ask her doctor’

At that moment Sherlock’s phone rang; ‘Hello Sherlock, well how’s mummy doing?’

‘Damn you!’ Sherlock growled into the phone. ‘How could you! She’s barely alive’

‘She’s alive, isn’t she? Don’t whine Sherlock! It’s BORING!’

Sherlock started to get angry but he remembered that Moriarty still had John; ‘Let me speak to John please’

‘Oh you are so demanding. I don’t like having a little brother. But I’m in a good mood today, so alright than… Oh lover boy… someone wants to talk to you’ he said handing the phone to John.

Sherlock turned around quickly although no-one could hear what Moriarty said. He felt he was blushing when he heard him say that.

‘Sherlock’ John’s voice sounded weak and he had hoarseness in his voice but Sherlock was so happy to hear him.

‘John! John are you alright? How is he treating you? Did he harm you in any way? John, don’t you worry, I’ll find you!’

John had trouble talking. He cleared his throat before he tried to talk. ‘How’s your mother?’

‘She’s alive’ was all Sherlock said.

‘Good, good’ John coughed. ‘Sherlock, listen, I’ve have time to think. I thought about some of the cases we’ve done you know?’

Sherlock wanted to answer him but John said quickly; ‘No think Sherlock, people don’t think anymore, do they? Nothing was what is seemed in some cases we did. Remember in Baskerville? How I saw things that weren’t there? Sherlock, just don’t…’ John got cut off by Moriarty.

‘Well that’s quite enough from him. I really don’t know what he is babbling about, but he is doing that now. He’s starting to bore me too! Why are you having such boring friends and family Sherlock? Really, a complete and utter boring life you have! Well, nice talking to you! Have to dash! Talk to you soon, real soon!’

And before Sherlock could reply he heard the disconnected tone.

Greg Lestrade was standing next to him as he turned around; ‘What did the bastard had to say for himself?’

Sherlock had to digest it all himself. Thankfully John was alive but what he had said bothered him. Nothing was what it seemed? What did Baskerville have to do with it? He needed to think. ‘I have to go’ he simply said.

‘Oh no you don’t!’ Lestrade stopped him by taking his arm and looked him in his eyes; ‘Sherlock, I’m going with you to your house and you are going to tell me what he said, understood! You are not doing this alone, you hear?’

All of a sudden Sherlock felt so tired, so very tired. He began to falter. He looked up at detective inspector Lestrade and nodded; 

‘Alright’ he said.

                                                    

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When Lestrade walked into the living room of 221 B Baker Street, he tried to ignore the mess Sherlock had made, however difficult. He stepped over stacks of paper, brushed aside newspapers and more photos of John and Moriarty from the couch, and emptied the table from empty tea cups. And John had been away for only four days now?

‘Tea?’ Sherlock asked him. One look in the kitchen told Lestrade that he didn’t want a single thing. If it was messy in here it was even messier in the kitchen.

‘If John comes home he will love what you’ve done with the place’ he tried joking about it.

Sherlock turned around and faced him angrily; ‘WHEN he comes back you mean’

‘Yeah, sorry when he comes back’ Lestrade looked at Sherlock’s angry face. He was right to worry about him; he had changed. He felt it at the Holmes Cottage and now he knew. ‘Sherlock, may I ask you a personal question first?’

Sherlock sat down, his long fingers folded under his chin. ‘Yes you may’

‘I’m not sure how to put this really, but you and John…’ Lestrade hesitated.

‘Me and John what, Greg, you can say it out loud you know. There is nothing going on if that’s what you mean’

‘No, no, I mean, I noticed something different, you are different. And I just felt, well I just wanted to know if there is something I should know; you know what will help the case of course. Oh bollocks, I am worried about you, that’s it, there I said it’

Sherlock couldn’t help but smile; ‘Greg, there is nothing going on between me and John. But yes, you are correct. I am different. I am worried; extremely worried about John’ Sherlock leaned forward towards Greg; ‘Can I trust you Greg, I feel that I can and I don’t trust people quickly’

‘Of course you can!’ Lestrade was offended Sherlock had to ask.

‘Greg, I’m telling you this off the record alright? I don’t know about John, but I eh, my feelings for John, well they have changed’

Lestrade slapped himself on his knee; ‘I knew it! You are in love with him aren’t you!’ and when Sherlock nodded ‘I knew it!’

Sherlock told him about the phone call he got from Moriarty and what John had said. ‘Nothing is what it seems?’ Lestrade said.

‘What isn’t what it seems? I don’t get it!’ Lestrade hadn’t finished his sentence or his phone rang. He answered and listened and then looked at Sherlock in shock ending the phone call.

‘What?’ Sherlock said ‘What was that about, why are you looking at me like that? Tell me Greg!’

‘John was seen on CCTV. He is wired with a bomb and has a gun. He is walking towards Piccadilly Circus.’

‘Oh my god’ Sherlock whispered.

Sherlock’s phone rang; ‘Hello’ he said softly.

‘Sherlock, dear brother, how are you? I know the detective inspector is with you and you heard the news. Well, our boy is turned against you brother dear! He is working for me now! First he going to kill loads of people and then he willingly is taking his own life for me, isn’t that sweet? Just because you’re such a bore! Of course he is taking loads of people with him when he explodes, in thousands of pieces. Yes John Watson is definitely in danger!’

‘What do you want, Moriarty?’ Sherlock couldn’t talk normally, his voice was failing.

‘I want Mary Morstan back, a free ‘get out of jail-card’ just for her. And then a nice place for us both, far away from you boring people!’

‘And you think I can get you that?’ Sherlock shook his head in disbelief.

‘Well, you’d better hurry, or else; BOOM! Bye bye John Watson! You have one hour!’ and Sherlock stood there with his phone in his hand listening to another disconnected tone.