First one shot. Second story ever done. The first one was three-four years ago on skyrock. English isn't my native language. I'm French. If there are some grammatical problems, some verbs or words wrong, please, tell me ! :) I'll be really happy to change this ! ;) - This one shot is the first part of what I hope a big post that will be created between today & New year's eve... :) I don't own nothing, unfortunately, or I'll be the happiest woman on earth... XD
Moran was in London. Sherlock was determined to get him. Two years running after each other was quite exhausting & he knew Moran's limits. He knew what he wanted to do. How he would catch him. In the dark. Like a fox waiting for its “proie”. But first he wanted to see John. See how he was doing. Of course he knew that John was really, really depressed to have him disappear... But he didn't measured the consequences of his acts before... & what his brother had told him had reached his heart... John had another life. He had left 221B Baker Street & was having another life... Without him. He had a fiancée, he had another house... A moustache... & he had left. Mycroft had told him that John never really believed that he committed suicide... But two years was too long for the doctor. Molly had tried to warn him. Now he knew it. & he knew that if he wanted to close this case properly, he had to put a distance between sentiments & his actions. So he no longer wanted to see John again, knowing that it would have a bad end for both of them.
He was walking down Baker Street. At least to let Mrs Hudson no longer under ignorance. He was disguised. He knew Moran could stay around. Just for the pleasure to torture him. 221B. He knocked. He heard her footsteps & her voice warning that she was coming. He saw the door opened. Then her. She was really tired, sad... He felt bad. But he couldn't take a step back. Not now. So he took a cockney accent, telling her that he wanted to talk about Sherlock Holmes with her. She hesitated but accepted. He was back home. Lots of things had changed, but it was the 221B. The good old home. She asked him if he wanted tea. He answered coffee, black, two sugars. She told him that «Sherlock was taking the same». She let him visit upstairs while she was doing it. He took his time to get out of his features & to wipe his make-up off his face. He was himself. Changed, tired, stressed, but himself again. Running all other the world was really good for having friends, making new encounters... But really bad for your health. He took out the syringe from its little silk pocket, then the bottle of cocaine he had from India... Injected himself a little dose then put everything in his pocket before going downstairs.
«I knew you were the perfect nursemaid.»
She looked at him, incredulous, a recipient in her plastic gloves hands... He smiled. & she shouted. High-pitched voice. It was horrible. He didn't thought that she could shout so high & that it could made him almost K.O against the wall of the corridor. When she stopped, he looked at her & sighed. If that was her reaction, what would be the others' ? He hoped that Mycroft would send them all a message.
«Thanks for the welcoming, Mrs Hudson. I'm really happy to see you too. I missed you. Mostly the parts when you had let me do my experiences in the kitchen without obligating me to leave in the three seconds that were coming.»
She had her mouth still opened... & she wasn't moving. He knew he wasn't good at jokes but he wanted her to tell him something. At least that she wasn't having a cardiac arrest or her cerebral functions stopping... But she wasn't moving. & him too. He didn't want to urge her. Then she ran & hugged him tightly, crying against his torso. He hugged her in answer & a second smile came to his lips. Not so bad.
«Oh my god ! Oh my god ! Oh my god ! Sherlock ! That's impossible, you're dead... You died two years ago...»
«... It's a long story to be told. I'll just tell you that Molly had helped me to do a fake suicide. To protect you all. What I need you to do right now is to protect yourself. Someone wants to kill you. You & John... Because of me. I'm about to stop him... But you need to be careful. I'll go in a couple of minutes. You'll see me again because I'll need 221B once again... But everything can happen to you in the next days...»
«Who ? »
«Moriarty's right arm. He's dead... Well, suppose to be... But his right arm is still alive. & wants to kill me. He's about to commit attacks. Of great impacts other England's power. & he expects me to run in the hole he's digging me that would drive me to my death. Because all these attacks were, are & will be for me.»
«John is no longer here, Sherlock... & I don't think he'll like to see you now...»
«I know. Better would be that he won't be involved in this story, don't you think so ?»
She nodded. They got in the kitchen. He sat down on one of the two chairs that were in it, a small table in front of him. She put his mug in front of him. He thanked her & took it in his hands, the warmth welcoming. She sat in front of him, a cup of tea in front of her. They stood silent for a few minutes, letting him some time to breathe & letting her some time to recover from the news. She was the first to talk.
«What will you do now ? »
«... Track Moran down. I know that, if he knows I'm back here, it would be like the fisherman with the fish. I would be the fisherman. & him the fish... Waiting for him to bite. He will do it. But when is a good question.»
«Where're you going ? »
«If I answer this question, you'll be in far more danger. So don't waste your time to wait it. All you need to know is that, if you need to see me, call Molly or my own brother, Mycroft. Even Lestrade won't know where I stand. Is it all right ? »
She nodded. She couldn't do anything else.
«What had stroke me, it's that if I stay more than fifteen minutes with a person when he sees me like I am, Moran kills this person. It's been already ten minutes. So I'm getting my disguise on & I'm leaving quickly.»
He gulped the end of his mug of coffee then ran upstairs, put his features on, then got downstairs in less that three minutes. With a small smile, he hugged Mrs Hudson.
«I hope that this visit won't hurt you... »
«It won't hurt me Sherlock. Because I'm happy to see you alive. News feed are always liars. I should know that since a long time...»
«See you soon ! »
He left, almost running off this place. He had lied a little about the time Moran took to track him down & kill the person he was talking with his real face... Twenty minutes was the exact timeline. But he didn't want Moran to know that he had seen Mrs Hudson. She was in less danger now... & seeing 221B once again without John & the environment he knew had hurt him. He didn't want to be depressed. Not now. He thanked silently that his lies weren't transparent other his face. He sighed. He had to talk to Molly. He shut down his phone & every electronic things he had on him, then, walking side to side with River Thames, he threw his phone into it. His USB keys & memory cards were in a little box he let under the floor of a bar. Security first. Everything could be tracked down. He put his cocaine & syringe in a container then turned several minutes in several streets to get to St Barts' hospital. He got inside by the emergency door which he knew the code. Moran was clever, but at this level it would be insane. He could keep calm a few minutes.
He got inside St Bart's by the emergency door. He knew the code & how to get by Molly's office. She had given him everything to help him. She had done almost everything. &, for the first time in his life, he was glad she was here. & he was glad that she wasn't in danger because Moriarty thought she would never help or love him. He knocked at the door. He knew what could happen to him if he didn't. Three months living with her had taught him that. He had come in her apartment without knocking three times. The first one, she had shouted. The second one, she had slapped him on the cheek. The third one... Well... His «family jewels» hadn't liked it at all. & he didn't wanted to live this experience again. He heard her little voice telling him to come in. He opened the door & he read surprise all other her face then happiness. What he liked in her was this capacity to recognize him in less than one minutes, whatever his disguise.
«Nice to see you by. How you're doing ? »
«Suppose that you've read the news... »
«Not really. I've just heard that everyone knew you were back... By the journalists. & that some attacks were done since a week... I'd say thirty to forty new corpses came here. Only ten ones are still here. Families wanted their members back... »
«Of course... Before I'd left, you'd say that I could come back if I needed help... »
«... Oh. Yeah, of course. I understand. John is still hurt, you know ? He does nightmares about what had happened... I suppose that you'll have to allow him some time to recover... We had talked yesterday. »
«... Yeah... Well... I'll resolve this problem later if you don't mind. Still a free bedroom ? »
«Were there strange activities done in your street ? New neighbor ? A man staying hours every day next to your apartment to have an eye on you ? »
«... An old woman living in a building not really far from mine... & a dog. But nothing else.»
«So your apartment is still calm, free, with a nice kitchen... »
«Did you know that I still have your eyes in my fridge ? If you don't mind to put them off... & if you don't mind to stay on your bedroom all day... »
He was stunned : she was joking, right ? The eyes... She smiled.
«You were joking about the eyes ? Or the boyfriend ? »
«The boyfriend only unfortunately. »
His eyes became larger by the surprise. 'Oh god'.
«You can come around one & a half or two in the morning. The back door. I'll be there. »
He nodded & thanked her, then left. He had almost forgotten that he had only twenty minutes to talk to someone before he became killed. It was ten minutes since he had been in her office. He had to get out by the emergency door once again. & the second one was in the morgue part. He found a badge on a table in the corridor. (What a waste for the man who owned it...) Taking it, he walked till he reached the morgue's door. The badge was good. He closed the door then put the little magnetic card on the table, before opening the bags with the corpses. He examined them before closing the bags & getting out in less than three minutes. He ended in an avenue full of people. Half smiling, he walked in. New direction : Scotland Yard. He had to find a way to communicate with Lestrade without putting him in danger too. He had already a knife under his throat thanks to him & Moriarty. Two years all other the world had made him like walking. Maybe because he ran too often at his taste. He reached the door of Scotland Yard. What he didn't foresee, that was Anderson was still working here. & that the end of his service was right now. & that he was seen as an enemy at Scotland Yard. & that he almost hit the Man when he got in & the other one got out. He was about to say something but something else attracted him. Lestrade was shouting. At Watson. He froze. He couldn't do that right now. But he was in. John would have doubts about him if he said something. Even if he moved in Lestrade's direction. & the only one he could move to right now was Donovan. Second nightmare in London. He sighed then moved anyway. Staying without moving would have let them suspicious
“Hi sir. What brings you here ?”
“I need to talk to D.I Lestrade...”
“He's actually... Busy.”
“I... Can see that. Do you know where I could wait ?”
“His office. I'll show you.”
“I know where it is... Thanks anyway.”
No tension, no surprises. After all he was supposed to be a simple man asking some help to a policeman, wasn't he ? He moved to Lestrade's office, watching if he had their attention. Nothing seemed to cut them in their shouting session. So he got inside the office without a complain. That was quite funny considering the fact that he was Sherlock Holmes & that his disguise wasn't as bad as he thought. He sat down & turned the netbook to be able to see what he wanted to see. He looked for “Sebastian Moran” in police's files. Nothing. Of course. Richard Brook's story had made them delete all the files about what he had told them... Stupid men. But Lestrade wasn't as idiot as them. So he had to have kept some files about what he had said... Deleted files. He found some ghosts of them & put them back in the documents' files. Moriarty's case. He opened it & read what the D.I had written. “Moriarty was real. The young girl had been afraid of H. because of a failure. Maybe a double... Or a mask. Maybe the man was in the shadows & hid himself under the appearance & height of H. Kitty Riley had been the perfect person to refer & to let her drink Brook's story. She's a journalist & journalists will always been the perfect weapon against someone. Files are false. I know it because his money & identity card were a fake... Perfect at any point except one : the Red mark. Little point top right of everything they made. Almost undetectable. Machines don't detect it. They can't. But with some help, a human can. Except that the court was already in favor of Brook. So they didn't do a good analysis of the proofs. & having a journalist against you isn't a good thing. If Brook didn't had anything to be accused of, why did he killed himself on St Bart's roof & threatened H. to kill all his friends ? So Brook was Moriarty. & H. committed suicide to protect us all... Except if he's still alive... This file must not be found so I'll delete it. Like that no one could accuse me of cooperation... But I believe in S.H. Moriarty was real. & his right hand is still alive.”
The second file was about Moran... “Three attacks in USA. N-Y, Washington & Atlanta. Then one in Brasilia, Two in China, Beijing & Shanghai... One in south Corea, Seoul... I could almost track them. I know these attacks are not made by Al Qaïda... Too many things looks like Moriarty's way of making an attack... I'm sure H. was here too... & it was made to let him a message.”
Lestrade wasn't an idiot at all.
“Seems that my computer is quite interesting, Sir.”
“In fact... Yes. Could you please close all the doors, windows & put us in private ? I don't have a lot of time to explain you my situation.”
Lestrade looked at him suspiciously but did as asked. During that time, Sherlock found the way to made him recognizable. When his “friend” turned to face him, the office now almost completely dark, he froze. He couldn't believe his eyes.
“You know that shouting isn't the best way to be understandable... Mostly when the man who's in front of you can be killed or have you killed by some enemy... Well, I'll be short. Yes, I'm alive. & Moran is here too. You seem to know him as “Moriarty's right hand”. His real name is Sebastian Moran. Ex-military man. Really good killer. He had helped Moriarty to all his attacks... & he can make some. He will do the last ones in London. I have to track him down before he can even have enough men to help him... The first one didn't have a great impact. Because it made “only” twelve victims. The second one will be harder. I assure you. If it doesn't do hundred of victims, that won't be enough for him. He wants to have my skin. & I want to have him. If you want this case as a secret case, you can find all the documents in your mail box... Spam's file. All the things called “Harry offers you 500 £” are mine. You know my methods. Give me an answer by the Katerina Huskovska thing. We'll see again later. Right ?”
Holmes put his make-up & fakes on again. Lestrade stood stunned but nodded.
“& about John ?”
“Oh... I'll see that later too. Don't worry.”
Holmes got out under less than twelve minutes. He could feel strange looks other his shoulder. Of course, some could put some suspicions on him... But he didn't looked like the good old Sherlock Holmes right now. Much more of a middle-classed worker man asking help from a policeman... But he had shown that he knew Lestrade. He had to get as far as possible from this place... But his unluckiness followed him anyway... & he hit Watson when he reached the third street after Scotland Yard that could get him to East End... He fell on the floor & John let escape his files on the floor. He excused himself a lot... It was dark outdoor right now... Christmas was over but New Year's eve was at it's beginning... He helped his friend to have all his files... But the hardest moment was to discover that he had lost his glasses & his hat as well... & if he stood up, John would recognize him... But he didn't have much more choice anyway...
“Here's your glasses & hat... I'd like to thank you mister...”
Holmes stood up, hat & glasses back on & shook his friend's hand. Except that the look that appeared on Watson's face wasn't the most expected one. He put off his features... & hit him hard on the face then walked past him without a word. Holmes found his balance & saw that a woman was looking at him.
“Are ya okay ?”
“...Ya must have done something terrible to have him in this state... He never hits anyone...”
“... Yeah. Lies are never good.”
“Oh... I'm sorry, it's impolite. I'm Mary Morstan.” She handed him her right gloved hand.
“... Sherlock Holmes.” He shook her hand.
“... The great Sherlock Holmes ? John is always talking of ya. Nice to meet ya ! I think I'm understanding his statement. Maybe we should let him have some time to think... Then we'll join him, what do ya think ?”
“... I'm not thinking it's a good thing to spend too much time with people... You can be killed... & I think that John had enough right now. Maybe tomorrow ? Nine P.M, Speedy's coffee ?”
“Nice idea ! We'll be here.”
“Thanks. & sorry for tonight...”
She smiled then wished him to have a good night before trying to find her boyfriend ? Husband ? Much more a fiancée Holmes' thought. But, anyway, he knew how, where & when the attack would find it's way... New Year's Eve night, midnight, in the metro between the Parliament, Soho, Buckingham Palace & the City. Where the people would be. & it would not be hundreds but thousands of victims. Bombings maybe... It was the most plausible way of attack... He moved to a cyber coffee place, then logged in. Mailbox... One answer. Lestrade was quick. He sent him his new hypothesis, then moved away. He had his time to get in Molly's place under time. He reached her apartment's door at 01:30. She let him come in less than ten minutes later. They didn't talked. He was quite hurt & she was tired. So they went to their bedrooms. Night went calmer than he thought & he slept some time. In the morning, he woke up & found her on the sofa, lots of papers in hand. She had let his breakfast & a computer on the table... The computer he had erased all traces to not be tracked down. He smiled & drank his coffee while looking for some articles, clues, cases about these attacks. Lestrade had answered him once again. He was taking the case & will help him. Holmes moved from Molly's house at eight P.M. Some pause was quite good. He had bought her some gifts to thank her... & he was going to his meeting. At nine P.M., he got inside the Speedy's. Less than five minutes later, John & his fiancée came in too. They sat down in front of him. She was joyful. John was angry & sad. He was himself quite sad but had to understand. After all, no one had had to live what he had lived during two years, hadn't they ? He wanted to explain himself when the coffees came & his fiancée went in female's private room. But John cut him.
“I don't care about how you did it, but about why you did it.”
Holmes looked at his friend in the eyes, silent, then he sighed.
& began to told his story.
Since the beginning.
Thanks for reading ! & review if you want, I'd like to know your impressions ! :) See you ! <3 Have a nice day everyone !
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