Stalemate.

Stalemate.1

*****2

AUTHOR’S NOTE: While this can be read as a stand alone story, it is best to read ‘Cardinal’ before this one, as although they both have independent plots, the development of the personal relationship of the characters in this story follows on from what happened in the first one, ‘Cardinal’.3

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes, Dr Watson, and Mycroft I’m afraid aren’t mine. I’ve simply taken to borrowing them for a while, as they are obviously Arthur Conan Doyle’s creations. Any other characters thrown in, however, I take full responsibility for.4

M/M slash fanfiction, Adults only - please do not read if you are under 18 or do not feel comfortable with *explicit* male/male sexual material, you have been warned...any who do choose to read it do so of their own choice, thank you.5

K.6

*****7

“You remember his name?”8

“Charles...Charlie...” A soft chuckle escaped his throat like a purr.9

“The petite blonde that wouldn’t stop following you around like a puppy...”10

“But a very faithful one he proved to be, Moore. Very faithful indeed.” Sherlock Holmes turned to study Joseph with a warm smile, hands thrust deep into his pockets. “Well...we have walked these streets for over three hours, and as much as a romantic may appreciate the stars effect on the river’s surface, I must confess I am rather distracted by wondering on when, exactly, you shall tell me what is wrong.”11

Joss looked down at his scuffed shoes, stamping them a little. “What makes you think something is wrong, Holmes?”12

Holmes merely arched an eyebrow in return.13

“Yes...you’re quite right,” Joss muttered to himself with a sigh, a hand rubbing the back of his short, dark hair. “The wrong question to the wrong man.” His tone suggested that he would roll his eyes had he not more pressing matters on his mind.14

“Well? Spit it out man...” Holmes sighed, but his grey eyes remained indulgent in manner toward his friend.15

Joss closed his eyes as he turned his face downward. “I found myself in financial difficulty.”16

Holmes gave a most definite tsk, laying his hands eloquently on his hips as he watched him. “Is that all? Why did you not mention this before? How much do you need?”17

“I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.” Joss’ features contorted as he stamped a foot with impatience at himself. “Damn it, Holmes, I’ve been a fool! There were a group of men, old associates...”18

Holmes’ eyes widened, knowing all too well the type of company that Joss had once kept. “Tell me you didn’t...”19

“I did, Holmes,” Moore whispered, shaking his head slowly. “They gave me the money I needed, in return I just had to do a few small favours...see? But now...oh things went wrong, Holmes, and it’s all spiralled...spiralled away from me and out of control...and I’m terribly afraid, I don’t know what I will do...”20

Holmes took a step closer to try and calm the excited man before the sharp blast of a pistol’s shot made him instinctively flinch away, even as his head snapped round to the direction the threat came from. His narrowed eyes saw the dark figure of a man spring into a run to escape. It was the violent sound of the splash that made Holmes look back to where Joss had fallen heavily over the railing and into the river.21

Holmes ran forward, gripping the railing his friend had just collapsed over. “Moore!” He pulled his pale hand from the rail, his fingers rubbing the blood they had found there. “Joss...” he whispered in one brief moment of grief before he was pulling his hat off, his fevered hands stripping his jacket from his body and quick feet kicking their shoes deftly off. By the time he had climbed over the rail, he could barely still see the lifeless body floating on the water; the river was near flooded and so the current far more swift and dangerous than usual.22

Holmes jumped into the hideously cold water without a second thought...however he hadn’t counted on the current being quite as strong as the winter had made it. It was all he could do to launch a strong hand to grab hold of a rung of the ladder fixed to the bank of the river for the boats. He looked desperately ahead, the water rushing brutally past his body...but Joss was gone.23

“Joss! Joss!” Holmes shouted at the top of his lungs against the violent crescendo of the water, his free hand hitting out fiercely against it in anger and frustration.24

A snarl twisted Holmes’ lips as he suddenly jumped into action, hauling himself out of the water and over the rail. Soaked to the skin and shoeless, Holmes started off down the street in a terrifyingly fast sprint, spurred on by passionate fervour it seemed as he pursued the assassin.25

***26

Sherlock Holmes bolted upright in his bed at Baker Street, his breathing hard and strangled. He ran unsteady hands through his damp hair.27

Two years.28

Two years had passed since Joss had been shot, so why did it still haunt him?29

Perhaps it was because Joss had been more than a friend to Holmes, someone he had developed a desire to both protect and be a mentor to.30

Or perhaps it was because Joss’ murder had been one of the few he had never been able to solve. Indeed, the decomposing body had not been recovered from the treacherous river until sometime later.31

Holmes forced himself to lay back down, a slender hand gripping the pillow as if with determination. “Tomorrow...” he whispered firmly to himself. “Tomorrow, I shall tell Watson of his surprise, and then we can be rid of this city for Christmas.”32

*******33

Quiet, still, serene...perfect.34

The bell at the door disturbed me from my paper and my seemingly over zealous thoughts, finally having found some time to myself. I gave a disapproving frown. “Why is it so hard to find a little peace...especially in the Christmas season that supposedly promotes it so?” 35

Holmes chuckled at me as he sprung out of his chair. “I shall deal with this.” He left me before I had chance to reply. All I could hear were murmurings of various sorts, and so I went back to my paper.36

I was just settling down when Holmes came back in, his hands planted on his hips. “Watson...we are leaving. We shall be away for Christmas.”37

I glanced up over the edge of my paper at him with a dark look. “Just what I wanted to hear.....”38

He chuckled at my sarcasm, strolling idly across the floor. “Of course...I could always travel alone...” he said with a casual voice, waving a hand dramatically before giving an effected sigh. “But it would be such a shame...that beautiful mansion by the sea going to waste when I went through so much trouble to get it all to ourselves for a well deserved holiday...”39

My paper forgotten, my head shot up as I met his eyes with surprise shining in my own. “Holiday?”40

“Yes...” Holmes chuckled lightly, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his joy at seeing his words having the desired effect on me. “A rather stylish friend of mine is going away for a month over Christmas...I asked if we could take advantage of his home for an escape from this place for a little while.”41

“A holiday...” I repeated, as if trying to get used to the idea. “And there is no murder...” I said almost suspiciously and somewhat doubtfully.42

Holmes laughed at that, pushing his hands into his pockets as he moved closer to me, looking into my eyes with amusement. “No...no, dear man...just you, me, and a household of servants who won’t even show themselves above stairs without our ringing for them...”43

A warm smile began to spread across my features. “A holiday...oh, Holmes, I cannot begin to tell you how long it has been since I have been able to truly get away from all this...without it being to run after some madman with my pistol...”44

Holmes chuckled gently, pushing himself into movement. “Well, then that’s settled...” he said decisively as he moved to the door, only to halt once opening it. “But Watson...take that pistol of yours with you...just in case, would you?” Only the slight pull at the corner of his lips broke through the seriousness of his voice and features to betray the teasing nature of the comment before leaving me to throw my paper at the door he shut swiftly behind him to shield himself. 45

*****46

Despite the sharp cold outside our enclosed, rather cosy carriage, the afternoon still managed to be remarkably sunny. I watched my friend talking with his eased and relaxed features...I was so used to accompanying him on journeys for his work that I had grown accustomed to either tense silence whilst travelling, or ramblings of the case...but this time he talked openly and easily, smiling and gently laughing at times. I must confess that I loved seeing the change in him. 47

“...and the scenery is simply spectacular, Watson. The coastline the place overlooks is privately owned and belongs to the mansion, so we shall have it all to ourselves,” Holmes said with a slight nod and pleased smile.48

I smiled across to him where he sat next to me, tugging the blanket we shared gently further up over our laps. “I know we shall have a wonderful Christmas.”49

Holmes turned his head to look at me, his eyes hopeful. “Do you really think so?”50

“I *know* we will,” I replied with a small smile. Carefully and gently, I reached out to take his hand in my own, holding it with affection. “I shall be with you after all.”51

Holmes met my eyes with a grateful smile, his hand ever so slightly squeezing mine as colour touched his cheeks so beautifully. “A lot to celebrate this year...our first Christmas with us being...together...so to speak.”52

I smiled back as I nodded with agreement, my finger stroking the inside of his wrist. “I’m sure we can think of several ways to celebrate...” I watched with delight as his blush deepened. I leant forward to whisper against his ear. “If it were summer, I would take you into that secluded sea and stroke you in time with the caress of the water over your naked body until you were begging me to go faster...”53

Holmes’ lips parted as a soft breath escaped them, followed by a breathless laugh. “Watson...” It was almost a warning.54

“Yes?” I chuckled, slipping a hand under the cover and letting it rest on the front of his trousers, a sigh escaping my smiling lips as I felt him. “You seem to be aroused,” I whispered, my hand starting to rub slowly.55

A helpless whimper escaped Holmes as his head tipped back, his eyes sliding closed in his pleasure. “Watson...you couldn’t possibly...not here...”56

“Why not? There’s no one to see...” I leant forward and brushed my lips over his throat and lips, using them to tease and let hot breath play over him until he couldn’t resist any longer, his mouth seeking mine to kiss me needfully, his hips thrusting against my eager hand.57

I moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately as both hands slipped to get his trousers undone, wanting the frustrating clothing out of the way. I let out a long, content breath as my hand finally wrapped around the heated, hardened flesh, stroking firmly as I watched him with loving eyes, moaning softly at his every sound and look of pleasure he gifted me. 58

His hand suddenly reached down to cover mine, urging it on. “Yes...oh yes, more...” he moaned deep in his throat, a primal need forcing him to let go of his control.59

I watched him with awe...*that* was what I wanted, yet what I got so rarely. With a small smile, encouraged by his reaction, I slipped down onto my knees on the floor of the carriage, pushing the blanket aside. I leant forward eagerly, wasting no time in wrapping my lips tightly around the tip of his already weeping flesh, moaning softly in my throat at the act I found so erotic. 60

I was rewarded with the delicious sound of his whimper, and smiled with pleasure around him as he pulled his legs up with need. I doubt he even realised he did it, but he spread his legs and pulled them up and back to rest his feet on the edge of the seat. I couldn’t help but steal a glance of him...legs pulled back in hope, body arched, head thrown back in pleasure as he moaned soft pleas for more...he was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. 61

I moaned with my own want to give him the pleasure he deserved, wrapping a hand tight around him as I took more of the flesh into my all too willing mouth, moaning at the taste, feel and heat of him, able to feel how much desire and need ran through him. I used my tongue to stroke, flick, caress and slide against the weeping slit with an overwhelming desire to taste the evidence of his need, sucking insistently as if it were all I wanted in the world as his whimpers and pleas increased in urgency. 62

I moaned loudly with satisfaction and pleasure as I felt his seed spill, swallowing all too eagerly as I listened with delight to his blissful moans of my name. I smiled with nothing but happiness as I forced myself to finally pull back, sliding back up onto the seat to readjust his trousers and pull the cover back over us, kissing his whimpering mouth deeply...whimpers of my name. 63

“John...” he whispered on a shaking breath, smiling warmly as he lifted a hand to stroke my face tenderly, kissing me lovingly.64

I smiled into the warmth of the kiss, returning it eagerly. “I hope I did it how you like?” I whispered, blushing.65

Holmes laughed warmly, caressing my neck as he searched my eyes. “Superb...as with everything else you do,” he whispered back before stealing another soft kiss. “Although I must confess, you have rather relaxed me...” he chuckled, leaning to rest his head comfortably on my shoulder, his arm reaching around me to embrace lightly.66

I gave a pleased smile, kissing his neck gently. “Then get some rest,” I whispered warmly, wrapping my arm around his shoulders to draw him tighter against me in a warm embrace. I couldn’t help but smile...in a way the simple act of his being able and wanting to rest against me in sleep was perhaps even more intimate to me than what we had just done.67

*****68

“This place is amazing...” I whispered with an awe inspired laugh, looking around the stylish luxury. Whomever it was that the majestic property belonged to had beautiful taste. Rich, warm colours and lush materials and textures greeted us in the large entrance hall...it was also empty of people apart from Holmes and myself. “Where is everyone?” I asked, referring to the servants, our luggage already having been sent on ahead of us to our rooms.69

“Downstairs, on the servant’s level where their quarters are.” Holmes gave me a small smile. “I told you, we’ll have the very highest of privacy...I made sure of it.”70

“You always do think of everything...” I said with a chuckle, reaching out to touch his face gently. I met his eyes, smiling softly as I ran my fingertips over his face, exploring before finally leaning forward and kissing him tenderly. “It’s what I love about you,” I whispered.71

Holmes chuckled as he leant forward, removing my hat before wrapping an arm around me as I kissed him deeply, my hands travelling down his back as we enjoyed the feel and heat of each other for several long minutes.72

Holmes finally pulled back breathless and trembling. “Shouldn’t we explore first?” he asked in an almost shy whisper yet there was already colour in his cheeks and the dark sheen of passion in his eyes as he ran his hands lovingly through my hair. 73

I gave a small chuckle. “I *am* exploring...” I whispered before kissing him deeply again with a soft moan, feeling rather than hearing his whimper. I took his hand and led him up the large staircase. “Come on...” After trial and error, I finally managed to lead him into what appeared to be the master bedroom of the mansion. 74

Holmes looked about with an arched eyebrow. “But this is *his* bedroom...”75

“All the better...” I whispered back with a playful smile, pushing him back on to the large bed, kissing him hungrily as a hand ran up his thigh.76

He obediently spread his legs without having to be asked at the caress, his hands reaching to hurriedly try and undress me, his need clear in his lust darkened eyes as I looked into them with a smile. He smiled so warmly back to me as he undressed me methodically before pulling me back over him, kissing me wantonly as his hands travelled down my back to rest on my by then naked buttocks, a moan rolling in the back of his throat.77

My own hands slid gently over his body, slowly undressing him as I kissed his arching neck, smiling gently at the feel of his moans. I pulled back slightly to run my eyes down his beautiful naked body, I have never grown tired of the view. I leant down, running my tongue up the length of his offered throat to his ear. “Roll over...”78

He met my eyes before doing as told. I leant forward to nip and suck gently at the back of his neck, my hands running over the body that arched so willingly into the touch. My hand slipped lower, caressing up his innerthigh. I watched with delight as he shivered under the sensation of my finger teasing over his sensitive entrance. 79

“I need you...” The words came in the form of a very slight gasp from his kiss bruised lips.80

I moved to lay over him, my body covering his as I reached a hand around to his mouth. He obediently took two fingers into his mouth, sucking with a passionate moan, sucking them as if worshipping. It took all of my willpower to take the hand away, slipping it down between us to slowly push a finger inside of him.81

I gasped at the sensation, as always...so hot, and tight, yet accepting...his body always seems to accept me so willingly. The heated moan from Holmes betrayed his own enjoyment of the intimate act, his hips trying to push back as I added a second finger. My purpose was to prepare him, yet I couldn’t resist stroking over the spot inside him that I had learnt he loved so much.82

I was rewarded with the most beautiful whimper of pleasure as he threw his head back with a small smile on his wanton features. This was the time he let go...I understood that...always in control, everyday, he had to keep to that discipline...but when with me, making love, that is when he lets all that go, and finds his relief by truly allowing himself to be free.83

I thrust inside the exquisite body, unable to hold back any longer. “I love you...” I moaned gently into his ear, my body covering his as I moved inside him, the pleasure was as unbelievable as always...so perfect, being inside my lover.84

I felt him writhe with his own pleasure under me, heard his needful, encouraging whimpers as I moved against him, both our bodies already glistening with a sheen of sweat over the burning skin.85

He reached his hands up to grip the pillow under his head as he breathed hard, shaking moans betraying the building heat in him. I covered his hands with my own, pinning them there, yet holding them with just as much love and companionship as restraint as I thrust deeper inside him, breathing in pleasured gasps of his scent against his neck.86

“I love you...” I breathed on a heated gasp into his ear. “Perfect...so perfect. I...I never knew desire until I found you. I dream of this every night...whether...whether you’re there or not...think of this...taking you...claiming you...”87

“Oh yes...” Holmes gave a sudden desperate whimper of my name, throwing his head back against my shoulder.88

“Beautiful...” I moaned, my need and want driving me on to move faster inside him, starting to lose my rational thought to the consuming heat and pleasure instead, biting and sucking needfully at his neck and only thrilled more by his soft cry for more. “I...I have heard you...in your room...moaning my name faintly as you...as you touch yourself in the darkness...your guilty secret...your secret pleasure...I want it to be me doing that to you instead...*I* want to be your secret pleasure...” I ran my hand possessively over his throat, pulling his head further back against me.89

He let out a louder cry of thrill and pleasure. “Oh yes! Yes, John...only you will touch me...my secret pleasure...my secret pleasure, John...”90

I slipped my hand up his glistening arched back, pushing it into his hair to grip. Using the hold I pulled his body up tight against my own so that we were both kneeling, but with him over me and still facing away as I thrust desperately up into him. I kept the hold of his hair to pull his head back onto my shoulder, sucking at the soft skin of his neck and throat as I moved desperately inside of him, my other hand sliding down over his writhing body to wrap tightly around the beautiful hardened and weeping flesh of his arousal.91

He cried out so beautifully as his hand reached up and back to wrap around the back of my neck, his face turning blindly toward mine, bliss contorting it to such beauty...I couldn’t resist the erotic image, my desire driving me to thrust harder and deeper into him with a need to claim him, to make that beauty mine...to turn the bliss into ecstasy. I was rewarded by his scream of pleasure as he climaxed, his tight, hot body clenching around me to draw me into my own intense climax of undeniable pleasure, as if his scream of my name in his very height of pleasure hadn’t been enough to do it. 92

It took several long moments to recover from the bliss, trying to catch my breath but achieving little more than soft, pleasured moans of his name. As I finally came back to my own mind, I became aware of Holmes’ whimpers from the ebbing pleasure. I kissed him lovingly, wrapping my arms tight around him to pull down onto the bed, laying on my back and tugging him to rest against me as I pulled the cover over us.93

“I love you...” I whispered gently, kissing his hair softly.94

“I love you too, John...” he whispered back on a shaking breath, meeting my eyes, a depth of feeling in his own so raw and genuine. “More than you can possibly imagine...more than I let you know, John...”95

“Shh...” I whispered, kissing him softly. “I know...I know, Holmes. You needn’t say it, I know you find it difficult...just trust that I can see it...trust that I feel it.” 96

He kept my eyes a long moment before smiling gently, kissing me tenderly before settling against me, his eyes sliding heavily shut with a whisper. “I trust you, John...”97

*****98

Gently walking next to Holmes, I looked out over the landscape, taking a deep breath of the clean, coastal air as I smiled warmly. “It really is beautiful here.”99

“Yes...” Holmes replied with a small smile of his own, carrying himself with as much grace as ever. 100

“So who does this all belong to? This mystery friend of yours...” I chuckled, almost teasing as I looked across to him.101

“There is no mystery.” Homes quirked an eyebrow with a sharp smile of amusement. “He is a dear friend of mine that I have known for years...even whilst I was growing up.”102

“Does he have a name?” I asked with something of a playful smile.103

“Oliver...any more questions?” Holmes arched an eyebrow, meeting my eye with a familiar shine in his own.104

“No...no, that will be all,” I replied in a mock serious voice, chuckling gently. 105

“Just as well...I think you are becoming a little *too* comfortable with your newly discovered examination skills...” Holmes quipped.106

I laughed softly, looking across to him with a fond smile. He seemed so relaxed in our retreat...it was a warm and wonderful sight. I looked out again and a small frown came to my features as I leant forward a little, peering. A distance away I saw a small, blurred shape that looked vaguely like a person. “I say, Holmes, there’s a man out there...I think he is watching us.”107

“But this land is private property...” Holmes frowned deeply, halting to look himself. His eyes narrowed and a note of confusion came to his features. “I see nothing...”108

“Oh, Holmes...it is quite plain...” I looked again before blinking with surprise; I could no longer make anything out. “But...but Holmes...he was there...I saw him with my own eyes!”109

“Or perhaps you were tricked by them.” Holmes arched an eyebrow as he straightened his back, watching me. “I see nothing, and if there were someone there it would likely be a servant taking some fresh air.”110

I looked at him stubbornly a long moment before letting a breath of resignation out. “Perhaps you are right.”111

“Of course I am. Really, Watson, you are becoming most suspicious...if you’re not careful you will be examining the most innocent of people’s hats and shoes before you know it,” Holmes replied with a chuckle, briefly touching my hand in a fleeting reassuring gesture. “We are quite safe here, my dear man. You and I. Come...let us return back to a warm fire; the air has suddenly chilled.”112

*****113

I watched Holmes intently with a small smile, studying his candlelit features as he sipped the red wine that accompanied the superb supper that had been prepared for us back in the mansion. We were enjoying it in the warm, inviting dining room, the candles on the magnificent table lighting our meals along with the contently crackling fire close by. “Holmes?”114

“Yes?” he asked as he looked up from his wine, meeting my eyes as boldly as ever. 115

“I have a gift for you,” I said softly, almost shyly with a small, affectionate smile.116

Holmes looked across the table at me with surprise before giving a chuckle and setting the expensive glass neatly on the pristinely covered tabletop. “Another one? My dear man, if you carry on so, you shall be in danger of spoiling me...”117

I laughed warmly at that suggestion, shaking my head even if the idea of Holmes being spoiled and indulged was one that made me smile at how he deserved it for a change from his running around after everyone else. “As if you could ever be influenced by another...” I reached into my pocket and carefully pulled out a delicate yet solid box, about the size of my palm. I offered it over with a hopeful smile.118

Holmes gave me a small smile as he took it from me, opening it up to find the pocket watch and chain. I saw his grey, sparkling eyes widen with surprise. “Watson...” he breathed, looking over to me with a moment of disbelief. “John...” He delicately picked it out of the box, studying it a long moment with his sharp eyes. “But...but this is yours...I specifically remember you showing it to me when you acquired it yourself...” he said with a hint of confusion, his thumb brushing over the engraving of my name on the case. 119

“I know...I...I wanted you to have something of mine. To keep,” I said with something of a shy smile, looking down with flushed skin.120

“John...what a wonderful thought.” He gave me a beaming smile that was so gratifying to see, his hand closing almost lovingly around the watch before a frown appeared on his features, clearly in thought. “I should give you something of mine in return,” he murmured, setting the watch carefully back in it’s box to slide into his pocket before running his hands down his body to find something for me.121

I couldn’t help but give a wicked smile at the thoughts conjured in my mind from the gesture before I forced myself to sober. “Oh no, Holmes, I expect nothing in return...really...I just want you to have it.”122

“I...I have nothing for you...” he said with a tone that was so close to disappointment that I could do nothing but smile fondly at him. 123

“Really...” I reached out and took his hand tenderly in my own. “It really is fine.”124

He met my eyes solemnly. “I will find you something, and I will always wear your pocket watch, you have my word on the matter.”125

I smiled warmly to him as I lifted his hand, kissing the tip of each finger lovingly as I kept his eyes almost mischievously. “Come...let us go to bed, and I promise that there I shall find something of yours that I wish to take...”126

*****127

Holmes fixed his gaze upon the open pocket watch in his hand.128

5:30 pm.129

“Sir?” A young servant lad tapped gently on the door. His hair and eyes were dark and his manner timid. “Sir...has he returned?”130

“No,” Holmes snapped tersely.131

“Perhaps...” the boy licked his lips, watching nervously as he shifted his weight. “Perhaps he...he went to swim and was swept out to sea...”132

Holmes looked sharply around to look at the servant with a severe frown. “No sane man would dip his hand in that water in the middle of December!”133

The young servant looked down with a flinch, clasping his hands behind his back. “I apologise, sir...it was only a suggestion.”134

Holmes glared coldly at him a long moment before slapping the seat of the chair next to him with an open palm. “Sit.” He kept his eyes on him, watching him hurry to obey. “Do you have a name?”135

“Ben.” The lad gave a firm nod, clearly eager to please and get his questions right.136

“Ben, the Doctor has been missing since 9 am.” Holmes met his eyes intensely. “I have searched for him with no avail. The only thing aiding me is his abandoned shoe I found. One does not simply lose a shoe; it must have come off in some sort of struggle. There was not even a trail left to follow.”137

“A struggle?” Ben looked at him with worry. “You mean...a fight?”138

“Perhaps.” Holmes replied with a slight inclination of his head, the score above the bridge of his nose deepening with a frown.139

“Then, beg your pardon, sir...” Ben watched him with clear confusion. “But why aren’t you out looking for him?”140

“Because I do not know where to look!” Holmes jumped out of his seat and strode restlessly to the window. “I have crawled over the entirety of this land, and nothing.”141

“Then what will you do?” Ben asked, watching him with concern as he tucked a leg up on to the chair.142

“I have sent for someone,” Holmes replied with something of a calmer voice. “He should be here later tonight.”143

“Who is he?” Ben leant forward with curiosity, licking his lips.144

“A man whose mind I respect,” Holmes replied simply, his gaze fixed on the already dark view outside...cold and dark, the thought only deepened his frown and worry further. 145

*****146

Holmes’ head lifted a little from his watch on the midnight landscape as he heard the tread of feet in the corridor. He recognised them immediately and turned around sharply to face the opening door with restrained relief. “Mycroft.”147

Mycroft Holmes strode forward into the room, unbuttoning his heavy coat with a long sigh. “I left as soon a I received the message; to receive a call for aid from you only means something of importance has arisen.”148

“It’s Dr. Watson,” Holmes said quietly, watching his elder brother with an unreadable expression.149

“Could it be your *friend* has led you to a fall, just as I predicted?” Mycroft shook his head as he struggled with pulling his coat from his uncomfortable frame. 150

“Mycroft, if I needed a rather redundant dagger of spite thrown into my chest, I would visit ‘that man’ which it is my gross misfortune to have in common with you. As it is, I am requesting your assistance; a simple yes or no will suffice,” Holmes replied sharply, looking away.151

Mycroft blinked, watching him for only a brief moment before moving to Holmes with a surprisingly quick step for the usually languid man; Holmes’ tartness could only mean that something was very wrong. “What’s happened, Sherlock?”152

Holmes let out a slight breath before meeting his eyes in an almost ruthless manner. “He’s missing, Mycroft. Abducted.”153

“A sign of struggle then...”154

“His shoe.”155

“And a trail?”156

“Covered.”157

“Then the villain wants you to know that Watson was abducted or he would never have gone through the trouble of covering his tracks to only leave his shoe behind.”158

Holmes nodded curtly in agreement, beginning a restless pacing across the room. “In which case I will be receiving some sort of communication from him...”159

Mycroft’s eyes followed him even as his body remained motionless. “What is it you want of me? Why have you asked me here?” He watched as Holmes halted, meeting his eyes with as near to a lost look as was possible from the cool eyes of Sherlock Holmes. Mycroft’s own eyes widened with sudden understanding. “You called for me because you had no idea what else to do.”160

Holmes turned his face away from him, perhaps a gesture to obscure his features before he moved to a seat, sliding down into it and gripping the arms of the chair tightly as he stared over into the fire.161

Mycroft gave a gentle sigh and moved to the seat next to him, watching him with compassionate eyes. “Sherlock, we will get to the bottom of this...”162

“I cannot think.” Holmes stared straight ahead as if in shock, or confessing a sin. “I...I cannot think. I try to concentrate my thoughts on the case, and all I can think of is where my Watson is...if he is hurt...I have no clues, I have no trail...Mycroft, I feel completely helpless.” The last was said in a choked, confused voice, as helplessness was not an affliction Sherlock Holmes was used to.163

Mycroft watched him with a frown before carefully reaching across and wrapping his hand tenderly around his brother’s. “Sherlock...Sherlock, we will find him. Whoever has him will communicate with you soon; if he wanted you to know he was taken, then it is because he wants something from you. You know that.”164

Holmes gave a numb nod, closing his eyes as his head fell heavily forward.165

“Sherlock.” Mycroft leant to him, softly squeezing his hand. “Sherlock, look at me.” His voice held the gentle sternness of an elder sibling. He gave a small smile as Holmes obeyed and met his eyes with wide-eyed confusion. “Have I ever failed you in the past?”166

Holmes watched him for several long moments, taking in the blessedly calm features of Mycroft, letting a long, almost trembling breath out. “No.”167

“And I shan’t this time either.” Mycroft offered a thin smile. “Now, we shall have you a drink and then see you off to bed. You need rest to rise with a clear and refreshed mind.”168

“I couldn’t possibly...”169

“Now,” Mycroft insisted firmly, patting his knee and rising. 170

“I shan’t sleep...”171

“But you will be resting.” Mycroft looked at him, smiling softly. “Stop arguing and simply *do*, Sherlock.”172

Holmes tried a weak smile as he stood, but failed, not able to miss Mycroft’s worried look to him once he thought he couldn’t see, leaving the room silently for the bedroom that was going to feel awfully empty and cold that night. 173

*******174

My head was throbbing with the rhythm of the white-hot blade skewering my temple...at least, that is how it felt and all I was aware of as consciousness finally greeted me. A soft moan escaped my dry lips as I tried to pry my eyelids apart, but felt completely disorientated; I had no concept of how long I had been unconscious, or where I was.175

Slowly Watson, I told myself, take it in steps like Holmes always says...176

I frantically begged my sluggish mind to recall what had happened, why I had fallen...I gasped as I remembered the hand gripping me, being pulled away by an unknown assailant as a sickly sweet scented cloth was clamped over my mouth and nose...then nothing.177

I groaned with deep discomfort as I reached a shaky, weak arm under myself to try and sit up. It was all I could do to roll onto my side. It was a horrid feeling...utterly helpless, completely vulnerable, having no clue where I was, who had taken me, and what they intended to do with me. Suddenly every horrific case I had studied with Holmes flew through my mind.178

“Holmes...” I murmured, the name striking me with a comfort that a rope would a drowning man...but then the yearning for him to tell me it was alright, that it was an accident or a silly prank, was replaced by the heartbreaking thought that Holmes would be worried sick. My own worry soon turned to fear however as I contemplated the idea that Holmes had been taken too, or worse. “Oh Holmes...”179

A feeling of failure swept through me, at not being at his side, but then a peculiar determination swelled in me that came from the building need to get back to Holmes should he be in danger; where I belonged in such times. 180

I virtually hurled myself upright before forcing my eyes open with my new found resolve. A plain, wooden room greeted me. Dark and gloomy, there was a single candle by my rather grotty, make shift bed lighting the fairly large room, walls and floor all crafted from a rough wood. A chill found it’s way in from under the door, and I was aware that there was no source of heat in the room, a fact that struck me as rather odd.181

Uneasily rising to my feet past a wave of nausea, I moved for the door, bending awkwardly to try and look at the lock, wondering if there was a way to shift it.182

“I wouldn’t bother, Doctor.”183

I spun sharply, leaning back against the door. Despite having heard the voice, I still could not see it’s owner and had to narrow my eyes to try and still the dancing shadows in the room before being able to just make out the outline of a figure seated in the darkened, far corner.184

“Who are you?” I demanded, my chin absently lifting as I took a step toward him, my hands curling into fists.185

He stood up in a single, smooth motion, walking forward to me so I could see him properly. His height levelled with my own, but his body was more of the slender kind rather than muscular...but not so far as Holmes. Neatly cropped, dark hair framed something of a heart shaped face made of contrasting strong features that would be considered handsome. His strong hands clasped behind his back as full lips pulled into a smile with decidedly no genuine feeling behind it. “You may call me M.”186

“M?” I repeated with a frown of confusion; that was no answer. “Look here, sir, I am in no mood for childish games.”187

“This is no game,” he said sharply, all traces of the smile gone as he was suddenly in front of me, gripping my wrist. “I have spent too long planning this all for it to be. Now, you are going to sit down and keep your mouth shut, because if you try and cause me trouble, I will return it three fold, I swear to god I will...” Anger shone in his eyes, and I briefly wondered what I had done to ignite him so.188

I met his eyes with flint in my own, despite my strength having not fully returned to aid me. “Unhand me, sir,” I growled. 189

He did so, but only to reach into his jacket pocket, pulling out a pistol to level at me as he stepped back. “Or what? Hm? What shall you do, Doctor?” He gave a cold chuckle. “You’re in no position to be giving me orders, *sir*. Now, if I were you, I’d get some rest while you can. We travel again tomorrow, and this time I doubt you’ll sleep through it.” 190

My eyes widened with alarm and I stepped up to him fearlessly, heat rising through me from anger and frustration. “Why? Where are you taking me? And why are you holding me here like a prisoner?” I demanded to know. I stumbled back with shock as his weapon came into contact with my jaw, striking me hard enough to daze me in my already weakened state as an unprecedented retaliation to my question. 191

“Can’t help yourself, can you...why can no one do as they’re told anymore...” he muttered, yet strangely with a cold chuckle showing his complete disregard for his violence. He tilted his head to the door. “Nib!”192

I heard the tumbling of the locks even as my eyes remained fixed upon the weapon directed at me. I tore my eyes away to glance at the young man that slid into the room. Both shorter and slighter than the other man, his whole demeanour seemed timid compared to ‘M’. Long blonde hair was tied back from delicate features and high cheekbones, and blue eyes watched me with curiosity. 193

“Here...” M handed him the pistol before taking a hold of my shoulder and shoving me down on the bed. “If he tries anything, shoot him.” He pulled cable from his pockets, straddling me with a firm strength as he tied my hands harshly together, his eyes hard. He leant down over me, trapping me so I could barely breathe. “It seems you can’t be trusted...” he whispered against my ear before moving down to tie my feet in the same manner.194

********195

“Sir...?”196

“Hm?” Holmes glanced up casually at the lad with a not too pleased scowl. “What is it, Ben?”197

“A letter, Sir.” He gave a warm, beaming smiled, but it faltered as he obviously thought further on the matter. “Sorry for the delay. It was handed to James in the stables...took a good half hour to find it’s way up here.”198

Holmes could only summon up an annoyed tsk as quick fingers seized the letter from the tray. Catching up the knife from the desk, he sliced it open quickly, gripping it tight as assessing eyes read through it. Those grey eyes widened before he sounded a sharp call. “Mycroft!” he bellowed urgently before turning to look at Ben. “When *exactly* did this come, boy?”199

Ben frowned with confusion, even as his slim body shifted with alarm. “Like I said, at least half an hour ago.”200

“Hang it all, why was I not informed?” Holmes demanded to no one in particular before turning his head away. “Mycroft!” he shouted again before sending his gaze across the letter again. “Ben, tell the other servants that they are not to go outside trampling over the paths, do you understand? Under no circumstances are they to go outside until I say so, or by God they will see the meaning of the word fury. Well? Go!” 201

Ben gave an eager nod before he scampered off quickly, almost running into Mycroft who was on his way into Holmes.202

“What is all this noise about?” Mycroft demanded with mild irritation, scratching his jaw. 203

“It is a letter from the villain who holds Watson.” Holmes moved quickly across the room. “Can you believe these imbeciles took a half hour to get it to me? I shall never catch up with the courier now!” A deft swipe of his hand offered the paper over to Mycroft. “Read it, and whilst you do I shall study the paths to the stables in hopes for a clue not yet trampled out on the handler of this message...”204

*******205

My heart sank with every moment of our voyage with the knowledge that although my head had stopped swaying with nausea and disorientation, the very room itself that I had been moved to swayed instead. I was on a boat. 206

I glanced up at the young man that M had called Nib, watching him with a slight frown. He was scribbling away on good quality paper, biting his lip now and then in thought even as he had been charged with watching me whilst M was otherwise detained. I had to console myself over the fact that even if I could have made some sort of escape during his distraction, there would be little point; the movement of the boat told me all too firmly that we were not on a river, but at sea. 207

I sighed as I watched him, unable to understand...he seemed so out of place in whatever scheme had taken me captive. He had a type of innocence about him. Perhaps it was merely his youth, but his attitude was anything but enthusiastic to the situation. In fact, he seemed positively distant from it with uncertain, worried frowns gracing his features at certain points. I came to a swift conclusion that he must have either felt dutiful to help by means of perhaps a family connection, or that M had some kind of hold over him. Perhaps even blackmail. 208

“What’s your name?” I finally asked, trying to keep my voice light and cheery, even if I felt in complete turmoil. 209

He glanced up to me, blue eyes watching me with alarm. He glanced about as if looking for someone to tell him what to do before looking back at his paper to continue writing.210

“My name is John,” I offered, keeping my eyes on him from where I laid on my side, still tied with a tightness that had my hands and feet feeling numb. “Nib. Is that your name?”211

He finally gave a sigh, glancing up to me and leaning forward from his small, cramped table like a schoolboy whispering over to his neighbour when silence had been declared. “I am not allowed to say.”212

“Oh come now, what harm can it do?” I replied with a soft chuckle. In truth, I recognised him to be the weaker link of the two men and as such had decided to try and put pressure on it, even as a nagging feeling had me worried for the lad and wanting to help in some manner...yes, it seems ridiculous in the position I was in, but it was the feel that the young man gave, of someone who needed guidance and help. Besides, I hardly had anything else to do, and anything that distracted me from my darkening thoughts and longing for Holmes would have done. 213

He licked his lip before gently biting it. As he finally met my eyes, I knew he had given in. “Nib is just what they call me...” He motioned to the papers spread out in front of him. “Because I like to write.”214

“A kindred spirit!” I fixed him the best smile I could in my pain, my jaw throbbing with it still. “I write too, when I can. It is one of my loves,” I said softly, trying to shift so I could watch him properly. “So what is your name?”215

“That I most definitely can’t tell you,” he replied in a hurried voice, looking away again with a frown of confusion.216

“Hm...” I said softly, watching him with consideration. “Then perhaps I could guess? I have nothing better to do...” I gave a weak chuckle. “But you should at least give me a clue...”217

He considered for a long moment before a glint of boyish mischief came to his eyes. He took a small scrap of paper and wrote the letter ‘C’ upon it in a remarkably good hand, lifting it to me.218

“Ah...the game is afoot,” I said with a weak smile, the words giving me a strange comfort. “Claude...?” I received a shake of the head. “Christopher...Christian...Clarence...Clement...”219

He gave a sudden warm laugh, shaking his head to all of them. “You’re not very good at this, are you...not like Sherlock.”220

My head snapped up at the name as I stared at him. “Excuse me?”221

“Sherlock would have gotten it by now. It’s like magic...” he said softly with a gentle smile, a finger stroking the page in front of him. 222

“It is the way he’s trained his mind,” I said distractedly as I openly stared at him. “You know Holmes?”223

He gave a nod in reply, looking away with sudden shame. “If he knew I was here...” he whispered with a frown that became distressed. “Oh he would despise me...” 224

Nib visibly jumped as the door opened and M walked in, casting him a stern glare. “Get on with your scribbles, Nib.”225

The young man cast me an apologetic glance before bending his head obediently over his papers as his hand moved fervently as if to convince M his mind was on it the whole time.226

*******227

Holmes didn’t return back to his Christmas lodgings until nightfall, his by then heavy footsteps falling on the stairs as he climbed them to the small day room he had made his study. 228

“Sherlock, at last!” Mycroft stared at him from his place by the fire, his arms folded firmly. “I was beginning to worry...”229

“I followed the tracks of the carriage,” Holmes said quietly as he sunk into a seat, a hand lifting thoughtfully to his mouth as he stared at the fire.230

“Sherlock, you are half frozen...rushing off like that without so much as picking up a jacket...”231

Holmes frowned with disdain, waving a dismissive hand. “I followed the tracks and *found* the carriage...” He glanced up at Mycroft, his eyes darker than usual. “He’s gone, Mycroft. It was at a boathouse, one that is officially abandoned, yet clearly a sea worthy vessel left there not too long ago judging by the footprints...of which there are a set that belong to a medium built male who shows a tendency to his right foot, and a lighter set, but the shoes are most definitely male rather than female and both were in company of marks that show a man clearly having been dragged. The other footprints were muddled and independent.” He sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair as he studied the flames. “They have left England. And taken Watson with them.”232

Mycroft fell silent, watching him with a troubled frown. “Then best get to that letter, hm?” He pulled it off the table, handing it back to Holmes. “You will note that the quality of the paper is French...”233

Holmes perked up a little at that, casting his eyes over the letter. It was simple in fashion, even if written with an unusual violet ink. It simply laid claim to the crime of abduction and that their prize was alive for now, but whether it would continue so would depend upon what Holmes was willing to give them. “And if having purchased material in France, it is not impossible that they have a home or at least a building set up there, and so would follow it being ready for Watson...afterall, the boathouse was in a perfect position to choose one of the quicker routes to the French coastline if heading for the Calais area.”234

Mycroft nodded with agreement, sighing wistfully. “You should start constructing a list of any who may hold a grudge against you...” he instructed as he pushed himself awkwardly from his seat.235

Holmes gave a snort of dark scorn as he folded his arms and flung himself moodily into a chair, virtually biting the nail of his thumb. “We cannot spare the year it would take to compile...” His hand fervently stretched out and took up the letter that had been delivered so unceremoniously to them. His eyes glanced down to where a signature would be expected on a normal letter, but on this one a pair of initials stood instead. “J.M.” Holmes said in a near murmur, the crease of his brow betraying his thoughtfulness as nimble fingers turned the paper over for his eyes studious nature. 236

“J.M...James Moriarty?” Mycroft moved carefully over to the sideboard, his knee cracking with stiffness.237

Holmes gave a sneer. “He would certainly not flinch from sinking as low as all of this.” He watched the paper with almost irritated eyes. “Peculiar, don’t you think?”238

“To what are you referring?” Mycroft asked with a weary voice as he poured two drinks. 239

“To initial a piece of evidence you intend to send to Sherlock Holmes,” he replied with a near huff of scepticism before starting on a series of ‘hm’s and ‘hah’s and various tsking noises. 240

“What is it?” the distracting noise finally drove Mycroft to ask despite his better judgement as he handed a generously filled glass to him.241

“I recognise this handwriting,” Holmes muttered with a solemn shake of his head, absently gulping his drink down. “But...I’m damned if I can remember where from.” He gave a sharp sigh, leaning forward to hold his head in a hand. “Hang it all...where is my memory, where is my mind...”242

“Calm down, or you will think of nothing like this,” Mycroft lightly admonished as he sipped his drink. 243

Holmes lifted the letter with annoyance to cover his mouth and nose, almost as if to hide his features after the rebuke. A frown suddenly creased his features as he straightened sharply, sniffing at the paper. “Tobacco...” he whispered it like a prayer, inhaling the scent as his eyes closed in near bliss. A laugh escaped his lips. “Smell it...smell it, Mycroft!”244

Mycroft did as told, but clearly only to please him. When he took the scent in, his features changed to mild confusion that faded to the recollection of a memory. “Grandfather...”245

“Yes,” Holmes chuckled, something shining in his eyes. “What a fool...this tobacco is the local produce of a coastal village of France, as so much of their produce can be traced back to one particular sleepy little village.” His brow creased in concentration. “But which was it.” He shook his head with frustration. “Damn it all, Mycroft, I should be in Baker Street with my books...” He took a deep breath, taking the scent in again as he closed his eyes, his breathing slowing as his mind calmed. He remained so for several moments until he jumped up out of his seat in triumph, startling Mycroft. “Wissant. Of course, Wissant...the place Julius Caesar set sail from...” He started to move, a sudden energy seizing him.246

“Sherlock...Sherlock, where are you going?” Mycroft asked with a strained voice.247

“To Wissant, of course.” He sent his brother a sharp smile as he folded the letter neatly. 248

“You can’t just run off to Wissant...you don’t know if that is where they have him. And besides, what if they try to contact you here again?” Mycroft stood to be level with his brother.249

“That is why you shall remain here,” Holmes said with a firm nod that said he was decided. 250

“But how would I contact you?” Mycroft pointed out with a look of disapproval.251

Holmes sighed as he set his hands to his hips, watching him with narrowed eyes. “I am awaiting word from Scotland Yard anyway, you can wait here for that. I cannot remain here any longer, Mycroft, I simply cannot. If I can track down the shop in Wissant this tobacco came from, which even a child could do, then dependant on a shopkeeper that keeps decent records I may very well be able to acquire the location of the person smoking it whilst this letter was written, which is more than I shall achieve sat here staring at the fire.”252

“I am going with you,” Mycroft insisted, his hand twitching with excitement.253

Holmes sighed and turned his head away as his eyes slipped closed. “Then who shall deal with Scotland Yard?” True, he didn’t believe they would be of any help...indeed, the fact that they had yet to get back to him inferred that they did not find a shoe evidence enough to suspect foul play that a grown, capable man who was free to come and go as he pleased, had wandered off. Now they had the letter, however, they may be stirred from their laziness. 254

“Leave it to a servant, or a friend,” Mycroft said in an almost gentle voice. “I cannot allow you to leave alone. Not this time.”255

Holmes gave another sigh, but that time it was with frustration. “Fine...I shall put it into Ben’s care...”256

“Ben?” Mycroft asked with surprise. “The young lad? He looks little more than a simpleton,” He replied bluntly257

“But a faithful one,” Holmes said knowingly as he moved for the door. “An eager and faithful one that will realise the import of his task and so do it with every fibre of his being...”258

*******259

They had waited until nightfall before finally moving me to a proper room. Blindfolded and with my hands still tied, I had no idea where I was, only the sensation of falling as I was shoved into the room. I hit the ground with a groan, my already sore and bruised body complaining at the treatment...M had been sure to show his displeasure of my questioning Nib, and although I had learned to take a beating in my youth, the cold and my mood made the pain and ache all the more apparent and the session had been more intense than I had ever had before.260

The blindfold was yanked unceremoniously from me and I had to blink my eyes several times to adjust from the blackness to the dimly candlelit room. M stepped over me, holding the pistol as he moved to the door. “I trust you shall be comfortable there. Your hands will remain tied and if you cause me trouble I shall be forced to tie your feet as well.”261

I watched him leave, and only when I heard the lock turning, even with Nib in the room with me, did I roll onto my back and groan with real pain, my breathing harsh and raspy even as it pained me further after the blows he had delivered to my ribs.262

Nib watched me with alarmed yet fearful eyes, biting his nails as he contemplated what to do. He finally moved forward, even if with hesitation, laying his thick folder of papers on the desk before kneeling down to me. A surprisingly strong grip took my arm to help me off the floor and onto the bed. “Are you alright, Doctor?” he asked in a whisper, searching my features, near imploring in manner. “What should I do? How do I help?”263

“Easy lad.” I gave a weak smile, trying to shift to get to a comfortable position on the bed, no easy task with hands tied. “I’ll be fine...”264

He gave a hesitant and obedient nod, but his worried expression betrayed his disbelief in my words as he looked down with a frown. “I am so sorry I got you into trouble.”265

“None of that, Nib,” I replied in a soft voice, watching him with worry of my own. He puzzled me more and more...how had he become a part of this scheme? “Why have you been locked in here with me?”266

He watched me with confusion before shaking his head gently. “To watch you of course.”267

“I see...” Although honestly, it seemed like a way for M to keep him out of the way also. “Am I right in thinking you used to be a friend of Mr Holmes?”268

Nib turned his face away, the same distress passing over his features as the last time his name had come up. “I really shouldn’t talk about it...”269

“No, no, of course not...” I smiled weakly, but wouldn’t give up; it seemed to be the only thing I could do to try and find out what was going on. “You have seen his talents though? At least, I presume so from what you said about his magic...”270

“Yes.” He gave a sudden laugh, his eyes shining in a memory. “He’s very clever. And generous. He’s very, very generous.”271

“Did he help you then?” I asked with curiosity, peering at him under the dim light. 272

“He gave me a meal when I was hungry,” he whispered softly with a gentle smile. “After that he paid me to run errands for him. I am not stupid, I knew that many were made up to give me something to do that he could pay me for...but I was so grateful that I didn’t say anything. You could say he saved my life.” He met my eyes, and I could see a deep pool of emotion within the younger man.273

“You have great love for him then,” I said quietly, watching with a fond smile before looking down at my bound hands with a frown. All the talk of Holmes was comforting in one way, and yet only accented how lonely I felt being so far away from him. I could only pray that nothing had happened to him. “Nib...if you feel for him so, then how can you be a part of this?” I asked with confusion, searching his features desperately. 274

Nib bit his lip as his frown deepened, turning away with shame as a hand lifted for him to bite at the skin and nail of his thumb. “I...you wouldn’t understand.”275

“Try me,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on him before offering a gentle smile. “I may just.”276

“I...I owe...M so much,” Nib whispered, burying his hands in his loose, long blonde hair. “I am in his debt. Quite literally. He has been very...kind. Took me in after Mr Holmes no longer had time for me.” He glanced up and watched me a long moment. “He met you.”277

It was my turn to look away that time as an odd sense of guilt washed over me. “We needn’t be enemies though...”278

He looked startled at that, shaking his head with alarm. “Oh no! I don’t do this for retaliation...I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt Mr Holmes, but...I have to do what he says, or he’ll get angry, and I owe him so much...”279

“You’re frightened of him,” I whispered with a frown.280

“He’s been very good to me...” Nib replied almost in a defensive manner, confusion fighting on his features. 281

“You’re frightened of him,” my voice was stronger that time, stating a sad fact.282

“What can I say? He’s a lad of common sense.” M gave me a cold smile as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him and watching Nib jump up from the bed and scurry over to the small desk and his papers. “What have I told you about upsetting him?”283

“You’re the one that manages to do that,” I replied with evident disgust as I turned my whole body away from him on the bed in a gesture of loathing.284

******285

Holmes’ studies and research as meticulous as ever, he quickly discovered that only two shops in the coastal village of Wissant stocked the particular brand of tobacco that had found it’s way to the letter. The news had injected Holmes with a new dose of energy, able to feel himself drawing closer.286

It did not deter him in the least as the first of the shops had not sold any of the tobacco in question in well over a year. However, a dark look settled upon Holmes’ features as he left the second.287

“Sherlock?” Mycroft approached him quickly, clear anticipation running over his features. 288

“The miserable bastard doesn’t keep proper records. Apparently all his customers are stored in his mind.” The last was said in a French accent clearly meant to mimic the shopkeeper’s as Holmes gestured wildly with frustration. “All I could do was give certain names to see if he recognised them. He was certain that he had never served a James Moriarty, or any of the names I have known him to use, nor did his description seem familiar.”289

“What shall you do?” Mycroft asked, his shoulders slumping with defeat.290

“I have it in mind to give him a bloody good thrashing...not keeping written records of customers...of all the irresponsible...”291

“I meant about Doctor Watson and Moriarty,” Mycroft hastily cut him off. 292

“I need to think...” Holmes turned sharply on his heel and started off toward the room they had paid for. “I just...I just need to think...”293

*******294

I was freezing cold, shivering. Hunger twisted my stomach, yet I knew I would not be able to eat even if I had the chance. My throat was parched and my head throbbed for it. The pain pulsed through my body like an endless tide from every injury that M had inflicted upon me, and those had been many...he seemed to have real hatred burning inside of him and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had ever done to spur it in him. Above of all that, I was miserable, despair creeping through me with every passing moment. Tears lodged in my throat, a silent longing for my Holmes, and if I had not already cried myself to exhaustion, I would have been weeping still. I was truly beginning to believe that I would never see Holmes again. Never touch the pale skin I had only just begun to learn and map. Never kiss the soft lips that yielded such beautiful sounds when he was treated properly. Never hear him whisper the name John on such sweet breath that worshipped it like no other voice could. I wondered if he knew how much I loved him...if I had told him often enough. How I wished I could tell him one more time.295

“The sound of silence...how blissful.”296

I didn’t bother turning to M as he entered my cell, for that is what the room had become to me. “Why are you doing this?” I asked in a hoarse voice. All my previous demanding strength had ebbed away from my voice, the pain and exhaustion taking over. 297

“He needs to be taught a lesson,” M said sharply as he pulled up a wooden chair to my bedside.298

I glanced over my shoulder to him, my eyes suddenly hard. “Holmes has never done anything to deserve such, and if he has ever treated you badly it is likely because you deserved it...he never could tolerate cruel, selfish men.”299

“Oh, so you’re going to play at being a judge and executioner now as well as detective, hm?” he replied sharply, anger clear in his eyes as he leant to me and physically turned me onto my back so he could look at me.300

I pulled my body sharply away from his hands, a look of disdain imprinted upon my features. “I suspect it wouldn’t matter either way; men like you have a habit for painting themselves as the victim.”301

“Men like me?” He leant closer, staring into my eyes as he shifted himself to sit on the edge of my bed, his hands sliding onto my shoulders and applying pressure to push me back into the mattress. “Pray tell, Doctor, what kind of man am I exactly?”302

“Malicious,” I replied quietly, my breathing speeding from a shiver inside of me that prepared to push him off.303

“What, and you think he’s any better?” M gave a snort of disdain, a hand sliding to lay over my throat as he leant in close. “He drains everything he can from the people around him, and then he throws them away without a moment’s thought.”304

“Get off me,” I growled through gritted teeth, pushing up with my body as much as I could. 305

M only leant closer, his hand tightening a little around my throat as he moved his mouth to my ear to whisper. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”306

My features hardened as I met his eyes boldly, twisting as I could under his weight. “What do you hope to achieve by all this?” I whispered back, my breathing and body strained. “Holmes will find me. He will.”307

He suddenly gave a laugh, a hint of disbelief and genuine amusement merged in it as a hand slid up my thigh to caress my hip and his body moved over mine. “Well of course he will...in fact, I’m rather counting on it...”308

*******309

Pale hands opened a beautifully finished wooden box. Holmes looked down on his solutions and needle, yet instead of rolling his sleeve up to prepare his arm for what could so easily make him forget, he stared at the set with grey, hollow eyes. 310

“You shan’t find your answers there, my boy...” Mycroft said in a soft, tender voice from his place in the doorway.311

“I cannot find answers anywhere,” he replied in a hoarse, chocked voice.312

A heavy sigh came from Mycroft as he watched his brother with regretful eyes. He moved slowly over to him, laying a steady hand on his shoulder. “You said it yourself, you just need to think.”313

“I think well enough,” Holmes whispered, staring at his needle. “But all I can think of is John.” An absent hand reached into his pocket and gripped the pocket watch. “I think of every hurt he could be suffering...how every moment we delay could bring him closer to...”314

“We will find him,” Mycroft interrupted firmly. “If we have to search every house in this place, we will find him.”315

“What if we are too late?” Holmes looked up to his elder brother with a lost expression. “What if he is already...”316

“We will find him alive and well, it will not serve him to kill the Doctor.” Mycroft gently met his eyes. “Have faith. I do.”317

“In what? In God?” Holmes gave a bitter, unfeeling chuckle. 318

“In yourself,” Mycroft corrected sternly. “In your abilities. In your mind. I have faith in them, and deep down, under your worry and fear, so do you.”319

“Only a dog could have such blind faith in me at the moment.” Holmes lifted his thumb to his lips to bite at the skin and nail of his thumb. The gestures jogged something in his memory, of the young man he had passed the gesture on to, making him sigh. “Or a young lad with misplaced loyalty like Charlie had...” He motioned to the thumb he had just been biting. “I even passed on my bad habits to him.” He suddenly froze, a thread tugging urgently at his mind for attention. “Oh my Lord...” he whispered with disbelief. His hand plunged into the inside of his waistcoat to pull out the letter. He smoothed it out on the table in front of him, his features suddenly flushed with energy.320

“What?” Mycroft shook Holmes’ shoulder with alarm. “Sherlock, what is it?”321

“I know why this handwriting is familiar to me.” Holmes’ voice had sped up with exhilaration. “Charlie...this is Charlie’s handwriting! I had him write enough letters for me in excuse to pay him, I should have realised sooner!” Holmes stared at the writing with horror. “Could Charlie really have betrayed me?” Holmes whispered with a genuinely injured voice.322

Mycroft watched him with wary eyes, yet sadly. “Never let assumptions mislead you to the obvious...you have told me that often enough yourself” he reminded in hopes of some sort of consolation.323

“Yes, but...” Sherlock Holmes fell silent, his hand held mid gesture as his features took on a shocked, stricken look. “Bloody hell...”324

“What?” Mycroft searched his features, waiting for an answer. He moved to him with frustration, clasping his shoulder to give a shake. “Sherlock, what is it?”325

Holmes met his brother’s eyes, aghast. “We are fools...” he whispered. “Simpletons!” He pulled away, striding fervently across the room with sudden energy. “How could we have been so stupid?” 326

“What *are* you talking about?” Mycroft demanded with frustration as he watched Sherlock with something between concern and annoyance.327

“Us!” Sherlock turned to watch him with disbelief, hitting the palm of his hand roughly against his own forehead. “I shall never forget this lapse...it will be forever branded in my mind as a mark of rebuke!” He began pacing again, his breath ragged. “I broke my own cardinal rule!” He finally flung himself to sit on the desk, a hand slapping down hard onto his own thigh with a force that had to hurt. 328

“Sherlock!” Mycroft moved to him with surprising speed. “Stop this madness and tell me what on earth is on your mind.”329

Sherlock lifted a hand almost as if to shake his fist. “I have been blind...worse, I have broken the sanctity of my methods. Don’t you see? We made an assumption. I *never* make assumptions! We assumed that J.M stood for James Moriarty, without any evidence to support it, only my mind grasping at straws in need to find something...how shameful!”330

“Then I assume you know what the J.M really stands for?” 331

Holmes met Mycroft’s eyes, taking a steep breath. “Joseph Moore.”332

******333

“Nib...Nib, please...”334

The young man watched me with near despair in his pained indecision. “I can’t! I told you...I can’t help you...M would have my head on a platter! His brother was caught for murder you know, they’re all as insane as each other!”335

“Please!” I implored him with both voice and eyes as I tried to lean forward even with my hands bound. “Not for me...for Holmes.”336

“John, please, I can’t...” he whispered, pressing his eyes closed against my gaze. 337

“He’s in danger, Nib,” I said softly yet firmly. “Your M is using me to lure him here.”338

He tilted his head at my words, his eyes opening just a little to regard me. “But why would he do that?”339

I wondered at his naivety, sighing as I shook my head with a deep, aching weariness that tried to tempt me to give everything up and just lie down and let the blessed, painless oblivion of blackness soothe me. “To hurt him.”340

His blue eyes widened as he stared at me, his hand recoiling with fear. “No...he couldn’t...”341

“Don’t you see?” I pressed gently, my bound hands reaching to take his as they could. “He has some kind of grudge against him. I am nothing but bait to draw him here.”342

Nib jumped up, biting at the nail of his thumb as he shook his head violently, his other arm wrapping comfortingly around himself. “No! No, he can’t hurt Sherlock! He can’t...”343

“Then you must contact him to warn him to stay away,” I said in a quiet voice, looking to the small window. The thought of being abandoned to the monster who held me sent despair and fear to my very soul, yet a worse fate would be to become the cause of my dear Holmes being hurt. I could not have him in danger on my account. I would rather shoot myself first.344

Nib suddenly halted, watching me with silent fear. “M would beat me black and blue if he found out.”345

I swallowed, gritting my teeth against my own panic. “And if you do not, he may *kill* Holmes.”346

He stared at me with pure terror, the poor lad. He stumbled backward, sinking heavily into his chair as his hand lifted for a nervous set of teeth to bite at the skin of his thumb. His body rocked gently, his struggle written all over his features.347

“Nib...”348

“Charlie,” he whispered suddenly, his gaze remaining firmly away from my own. 349

“Excuse me?”350

“My name is Charlie,” he breathed in a defeated voice.351

“Charlie?” I whispered the name like a prayer, a strange relief coming to me as though I had finally won a crucial battle. “Please, Charlie...I need your help. I *need* your help!” 352

“I’ll do it.” He closed his eyes, almost as if in pain. “I will send a warning, I will tell him that you say to keep away. You have my word...you have my word, Doctor.”353

The relief that flooded me far surpassed the first. A shaking breath escaped me as I dropped back onto the bed with exhaustion, the pain wracking my body again with the energy having passed from my need to see Holmes safe.354

“Doctor?” Charlie pushed himself over to me with alarm, sitting on the edge of the bed to touch my face. Sadness washed over his features. “But if Mr Holmes stays away, what will become of you?” he whispered, biting his lip.355

“Holmes will be safe, that’s all I need to know,” I whispered as if it explained it all...and indeed, it was the one thing I clung onto through the prospect of my own fate.356

“He has already hurt you, hasn’t he...” Charlie stroked my face gently, such tenderness coming from him. All I could do was close my eyes and turn my face away with shame as I felt tears well up in my eyes. “John...” he breathed the name uncertainly. Leaning down, he wrapped gentle arms around me, a quick hand touching my hair as I buried my face into his neck. 357

I know not how they escaped, my sobs. Perhaps it was a release of all the pain and hurt I had suffered at M’s hands, or perhaps it was the suddenly very realistic notion of being abandoned to more of it. I felt suddenly helpless, vulnerable, stripped. “Please, help me...” I breathed the words between my sobs. I just wanted it all to be over for me...one way or another.358

******359

“Sherlock, Joss is dead...Joseph Moore is dead!” Mycroft almost entreated his brother as he hurried at his side to keep up with the fast stride.360

“Is he?” Holmes shot back with irritation. “Let us see, shall we? The only body ever recovered was a good while after, decomposed too badly for any recognition. It was *assumed* that it was Joss because of my testimony, when it could have been any poor wretch thrown in.” His fast pace of speech proved that his mind was back to full flow of thoughts. “But what did I really see? A man run off with a gun, Joss floating down the river, and blood on a handrail. Assumptions...all *assumptions* I made when I in reality saw *nothing*. It was all designed to make me *think* that I had.”361

“But why would he stage his own death?” Mycroft frowned unhappily at the information. “He was a good friend to you.”362

“He staged his own death, so he could then stage all of this.” Holmes shook his head with a deep frown. “I only ever introduced him to you as a friend, you never heard how we met, did you.”363

“It was two years ago he died, Sherlock...”364

“He was a criminal.” Holmes ignored the comment, his mind now as fixed as his pace toward the tobacco shop. “He broke a window and climbed into my study. I found him going through my things. Bold as brass he told me he was hungry, that he was only looking for food or money to buy some with. He was shaking, freezing cold. I got him food and drink and allowed him to clean up. Even gave him some of my clothes. He told me that he had been a thief and breaking into homes for food ever since his older brother had left him. Hang it all, Mycroft, but my conscience over took my sense and out of pity I took him in, rented a room for him, saw him with food and clothing...took him into my life. Out of pity...what a fool I was.”365

“Just because he was a thief, it doesn’t mean he would drop to this...”366

“Charlie was another,” Holmes continued, his skin and eyes darkening by the moment. “Younger though. A skinny, filthy lad I found curled up in the corner of a room belonging to one of the criminals I saw locked away. He never told me why he was being held there, for a prisoner he was, that was easy enough to see by his nervous, fearful nature. He flinched every time I touched him. He was bright though...an intelligent lad even if hopelessly naïve. Joss suggested that he shared his rooms that I paid for when my time became short, to save me paying out for more, he could also keep an eye on him then, make sure he was alright. I started to pay Charlie for odd jobs...running errands, writing things out for me, even cleaning. It didn’t take long for him to relax, smiles beginning to show, and eagerness. He would follow me everywhere he could, as he did Joss and became such a warm, tender young man despite whatever had happened to him. Joss informed me that they...their relationship...had...blossomed. I asked Charlie about it, but he turned away from me with a frown, but I put it down to his being afraid to talk about such...forbidden practices. After Joss was shot, he disappeared. I received a letter from a man that said he was his Uncle, and that Charlie had returned home after years, broken hearted and had committed suicide a week later.”367

“Sherlock...” Mycroft took a hold of his arm as they halted in front of the door of their destination, fixing him with a look of warning. “This is all a very tenuous link...”368

“Mycroft, I received a letter in the hand of a dead man! Charlie was said to be dead, yet I now hold a letter in his handwriting sent to me this very week. How is that possible unless Charlie is in fact alive? And if he is alive, then what is to say that the J.M in said letter is not Joseph Moore who also supposedly died, but in a heavily circumstantial death?” Holmes frowned deeply, shaking his head emphatically. “Besides, I cannot see the harm in it. We will know soon enough if it is wrong by a simple yes or no from the careless shop keep, and then we shall revaluate if necessary. But I swear Mycroft that if it is him, if Joss *has* betrayed me, my trust, my loyalty, by taking John away from me and threatening him...then by god, he will soon be floating down a river again, and this time as a truly dead man.” He turned to the shop before breezing through the door without waiting for further comment from his brother. 369

The owner of the small shop looked up at his visitors, his dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. Grey hair cropped close to a balding head, he pushed spectacles up his nose to peer at the brothers properly. 370

Holmes fixed him with a beaming, yet wholly false smile as he moved over to lay his hands on the counter. “Yes, I am afraid that it is me again,” he said smoothly. “I need to know if anything bought here has ever been charged to a Joseph Moore.”371

The older man looked back at Holmes, a slow, familiar frown creasing the worn brow. “Non.” Holmes let the slightest of breaths out, watching him with near appeal, and it strangely seemed to work as the shopkeeper continued by providing a different name instead. “Charles Moore.”372

A hopeful smile pulled at the corner of Holmes’ lips as he leant forward eagerly. “What address did you take down for the order?”373

“I already told you...I don’t keep written records.” The owner drew his shoulders back importantly, trying to peer down his nose at him.374

Holmes gave a silent sigh as his eyes closed and head bowed in a mixture of defeat and frustration.375

“Mais...”376

The single word made Holmes’ head snap up, his sharp eyes fixing upon the suddenly smiling man with a demanding stare.377

“Everyone knows where the two Englishmen stay...” The self-satisfaction in the voice of the old shopkeeper was unmistakable as he quirked a smile to Holmes.378

Much to the surprise of his brother, Sherlock Holmes suddenly laughed out loud, gripping the man’s hands tightly in his own. “Oh thank god for the snobbery of the French...”379

*******380

“You did this!” The voice of my captor screamed through the building before he burst through the door of the room that I had been held in. His hand was buried in Charlie’s hair in a cruel grip, dragging him with him. “This is your doing!” he shouted at me before I could roll to my side to watch him with confusion. 381

“Steady on…” I said quietly as it was all I could get out. “You’ll hurt him...”382

“And I should!” He used his grip to shake Charlie who was desperately gripping the older man’s wrists in pain. “You got to him, didn’t you! Got him to send a warning to your precious Holmes!” 383

“Leave him alone.” I used my shoulder to try and push myself upright with a grunt. “You’re right, it was my doing, it was my fault.” 384

“Well, a lot of good it did you both.” He flung Charlie across the room, the lad hitting his head against the desk before slumping down to the floor. “He’s already here,” he said triumphantly, but it by no means dulled his anger. “But I should kill you now!” 385

He leapt on me, his hands fastening around my throat to push me back against the bed as he straddled me relentlessly. My hands bound and too weak from pain and hunger, I could barely push him, let alone get him off of me. The ache in my chest from no air joined the pressure of the crushing hands as black edged my already blurred vision. 386

A pair of strong hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him off me and throwing him violently to the floor. I sucked air back into my lungs even as I coughed, closing my eyes tight to try and get my vision straight. I opened them at the feel of a hand on my face, a shuddering laugh escaping me at the all too welcome sight. “Holmes...” 387

I was about to try and grip hold of him, to feel him, embrace him in the relief that washed over me like a balm...388

“Get away from him.” M had pulled himself to his feet, a pistol in his hand that he levelled at Holmes. “I said get back!”389

Holmes glared to him, taking a step back, his body tense and fury clearly rising in his eyes. “Joss...”390

Joseph Moore gave a cold chuckle, a hand lifting to press against the corner of his mouth and wipe blood away. “Sherlock Holmes. It took you long enough to get here. You’re slowing down.”391

I looked to Holmes with mild confusion, frowning as my sluggish mind tried to make sense of it. “Joss? You know M?”392

“Yes.” The word was tight, almost a hiss through clenched teeth from Holmes. “Joseph Moore. A man who used to be a good friend of mine...before he died.”393

Joss gave a snort of a laugh at that. “Yes...you made it all too easy for me Holmes. Your natural affinity with murder made it so.”394

Holmes turned his face away from him, colour burning the usually pale features. “I don’t understand,” he almost whispered, near grief in his voice. “I gave you everything I could to help you. What did I ever do to anger you so?”395

“You took more than you could ever give me!” Joseph shot back in anger, staring at him with burning eyes. “I told you the truth...that I was lost since my brother left...but it was you who took him from me!”396

“*What*?” Holmes looked at him as if he were mad. 397

“Didn’t do your research very well, did you,” Joss ground out, watching him with narrowed eyes. “My brother was David Rowton...you sent him to the gallows! You killed my brother as sure as if you’d shot him!” 398

Sudden understanding crossed Holmes’ stunned features as he stared at him with disbelief. “He was a murderer, brought to justice by me, that is all...” He watched him with wonder. “It was all an act from the beginning, Joss?” he asked in a barely perceptible whisper.399

“It was all too easy.” Joss gave a triumphant smile. “I found your study window, made sure to make enough noise for you to hear me. Then it was just a case of making sure you pitied me enough to help me. Charlie, now he wasn’t a part of my original plan, no…but when you introduced us, well, he was as pathetic a wretch as I have ever seen. He was just longing for love, for someone to be loyal to, to feel needed, a part of a family. It was child’s play, seducing him with kind words, promises. I gave him emotionally everything that you aren’t even capable of, and after that I knew the pitiable thing would do whatever I asked of him out of a feel of duty and loyalty and eagerness to keep my affection.” He chuckled coldly with a mocking look. “He was pathetic...but useful. Although, I knew I couldn’t push my luck. I never told him the true intentions of my plans here, because as loyal as he was to me, I knew that for some sick, absurd reason he was also to you. So I had him carry out my tasks no questions asked. He had no idea what I was up to until your dear Doctor here told him...”400

“If you wanted to kill me you could have done so at any time whilst knowing me...why this whole pretence of death?” Holmes demanded, his anger only having increased at hearing his horrific use of his vulnerable young friend, Charlie. 401

“It was a question of waiting, and you know, I didn’t mind, because the planning of a thing can be just as sweet as the act itself.” He threw him a cold smile. “And besides, who said that it was you I wanted to kill?” He arched an eyebrow, his features suddenly turning into a mask of hatred as he turned the weapon away from Holmes and aimed it at me. “You took my brother from me. I want you to feel the same pain and grief as I do, to live with it for the rest of your miserable days. I lured you here to witness the death of your precious Doctor, so that the sight of his blood escaping is burned into your mind for every miserable day of your life after he is dead and buried.”402

Joss lifted the weapon a touch as his features hardened and he readied to shoot me...a sudden scream came from him as a hand shot up to grab his shoulder in pain. Charlie stumbled back away from him in shock where he had stabbed his pen as deep as he could into Joseph’s flesh. Joss whirled with fury, glaring at him a single moment before lifting his weapon and shooting Charlie without a second thought. It was in the moments that Holmes leapt forward to catch Charlie before he hit the ground that Joseph fled the room, blood staining his shirt as he made his escape. 403

I pushed myself off the bed, moving awkwardly to Charlie, gratitude battling with horror as I hurried to try and look at the wound in his shoulder. Holmes readied to spring up and make chase after Joseph. “Holmes!” He halted and looked at me with confusion, the anger at Moore clear in the tension of his body. “Charlie needs help, and I cannot give it to him...I can barely stand let alone treat a patient...” He struggled, looking to the door with a clear want to pursue Joseph Moore. “Holmes...please...let him go. Charlie needs your help, let him go...”404

He clearly swallowed a curse as he turned back to Charlie and I, dropping to his knees to pull Charlie’s jacket out of the way. 405

“Sherlock?” Charlie’s voice was weak yet somehow laden with raw, heavy grief. “I am so sorry...” Tears escaped him as his hands tried to get a hold on his jacket. “I didn’t know...I swear to God I didn’t know...”406

“Shh...” Holmes watched him with his own sorrow in his eyes as he touched his face briefly. “I know...I know, Charlie, just try and stay still...” he whispered, and to my shock he kissed his brow before his hands reached over to me and half tore the shirt from my body to fold and press against the wound to try and halt the blood flow. His eyes wandered to me and he suddenly froze. He stared at my body with horror at seeing the state of it from Joseph’s treatment of me over my time with him. “Oh, John...”407

“What is happening here!” Mycroft’s voice filled the room as he stormed in. “I know you told me to wait, but I heard the shot and...”408

“Better late than never...” Holmes pushed himself up, passing his brother. “See them both well, I have business to attend to.” He barely managed to get the words out through his renewed anger and without a further word he had shot out of the room to give chase to Joseph Moore.409

*******410

The following week in many ways was as much a living hell as my time with Joseph Moore had been. With Holmes having turned to chasing Joseph Moore, it had been left to Mycroft to see Charlie and I back safe to England, and indeed, he was as kind and conscientious as any person could need, and eternally grateful I shall be to him. In fact, he proved to be my support and companion in those first few days of my recovery from my injuries until by the fourth day I was determined to get up and about, back to life. Just being back in my home at Baker Street seemed to soothe my wounds like nothing else could. 411

I visited Charlie at the hospital on the afternoon of the fourth day, and I was amazed to find him grinning at my approach. He kept a hold of my hand all the way through my visit, chattering away with excitement at my being there. He confessed that since his stay he had grown a fascination of medicine and wanted to become a doctor. I couldn’t help but smile gently as he looked away with sudden shyness, quickly adding that he would, only if he was up to it. I squeezed his hand and assured firmly that with all the tenderness and feeling of duty that seemed to hum through him coupled with his intelligence that I judged to be more than ample from reading some of his scribblings whilst bed bound myself, that he would make the most wonderful of doctors. I even teased that he had the love of writing and the shoulder wound to follow in my footsteps, and he gifted me with a bright smile. 412

I visited him everyday after that, and upon the seventh day Mycroft informed with great apology that he had to leave London to attend to his own work. I gave a small smile and laughed it away as not important, wishing him all the best and thanking him unreservedly for all his help even as my heart sunk at being solitary. He still seemed to go with a hint of guilt however, at leaving me alone when not one word had been heard from my Holmes in a week. I kept myself busy over the following days, increasing my visits to Charlie, finding a Doctor to sponsor his studies and take him as a student, dealt with all of Holmes’ correspondence, anything to keep my mind off of Joseph Moore and all he had done, and where on earth Holmes could be. 413

It was on Christmas Eve, having just settled down in my chair after returning from a visit to the hospital that I heard the door sweep shut. I looked up distractedly and it took a moment or two to take in the sight of Sherlock Holmes finally standing there, watching me with unreadable eyes. 414

“Oh, Holmes...” I breathed in relief, tears threatening as I pushed myself up and over to him, throwing my arms around him for the first time since before I was abducted. I held him tight, unwilling to let him go as I buried my face against his hair, taking in his scent with as much need as I had taken my first breath after Joss had tried to choke me. “You’re safe...you’re home...”415

“And he is dead.” Holmes whispered back, holding me with just as much strength as he relaxed against me. “I had to follow him through Spain, but he is dead. He is dead.” 416

I held him desperately for a few moments longer, just taking in the feel of him close again, but then my anger and hurt came through with the knowledge that he was safe. I pushed him back, watching him with all the hurt I felt. “How could you!”417

“What?” Holmes stared at me with surprise, lifting his hands a little as he met my eyes with confusion.418

“You left me!” I shook my head, confusion in my own eyes. 419

“What?” He moved forward to me, taking my arms. “You went for a walk, I...”420

“I’m not talking about that bastard taking me.” I pushed his hands away, my turmoil written all too plainly on my features. “I mean when you found me! You barely said two words to me before you ran off when we needed you, gone for nearly two weeks, you could have been dead for all I knew!”421

“John, please...” Holmes whispered, turning his face away as he closed his eyes with a pained frown. 422

“I needed you here, Holmes!” I grabbed his jacket, shaking him slightly to get his attention back. “I went through so much, but I thought it would all be fine if I could just be back with you. You came...you were finally there again, and I needed you to hold me, to heal me, to reassure me...you may find that pathetic, but is what *I* needed! And instead you left me alone! To go on some kind of glory hunt! I was alone with him again, only this time he was in my head, and you weren’t there to hold me and tell me it was over!”423

“A glory hunt?” he gasped with near horror as he searched my features incredulously before suddenly pressing forward to grip the side of my face, his stare demanding as it locked with my own tear brimmed eyes. “He took you, John! John, he took you from me! He *hurt* you...*my* John...I have never felt terror like that! How could I tell you it was over until I knew it was for good? I couldn’t let him threaten us again...the moment he touched you...my John...he was a walking dead man.”424

I watched him with dawning realisation, seeing his own pain and fear. “Oh, Holmes...” I whispered, pulling him into a tight, desperate embrace as I pushed a hand into his thick, warm hair, a shaking breath escaping with my tears. “Shh...it’s over...” I kissed his temple as my hand raked over his back. “Don’t leave me alone again...”425

“I won’t.” It was plain to hear it was a vow as he pushed me up against the wall with careful hands that ran over me and up to capture my face as he kissed me with raw emotion, it being his mouth that claimed mine when it was usually the other way around. The heat and control soothed both my mind and body more than even Baker Street, a grateful moan or relief and need escaping into his mouth from my own. 426

Holmes broke the kiss only for air, breathing heavily with flushed features as he let his forehead rest against my own so that he could whisper to me. “I won’t leave you alone, John...never again.”427

*******428

“I have a gift for you.”429

I looked up at Holmes with surprise from where I had been lying with my head in his lap to watch the flames of the fire with him, a satisfied smile on my features after Christmas lunch. After everything, we had ended up spending Christmas day in the familiar surroundings of our home in Baker Street. “We have already exchanged gifts this morning...” I gave a chuckle, watching him with fond eyes. “Indeed, you were worse than a child, bursting in on me at 6 am eager to open them...”430

Holmes gave a rare blush as he met my eyes. “No, not a Christmas gift...your gift.”431

I watched with confusion as he slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a small box to offer over to me. I gave a small, curious smile as I took it, opening it eagerly. I gasped when I saw the ring, taking it out with the greatest of care. It was silver, beautifully crafted, and as I studied the inside I found Holmes’ initials engraved. 432

“It is something of mine for you to keep,” he said with an excited smile as he studied me with warm eyes. 433

“Oh, it’s perfect,” I whispered with a warm smile as I slipped it onto my finger.434

“And...” Holmes met my eyes, watching me with a sudden shyness. “And I want you to wear it with it meaning that you are mine...”435

I watched him with shock for the briefest of moments, but only for not expecting such a gesture. When I met his eyes I must have been grinning like the child that I had just accused him of being as I leant up to wrap my arms around the back of his neck. “Oh I accept...I accept so long as it also means that *you* belong to *me*...” I whispered playfully before leaning up to kiss him deeply. 436