Old notes

by alogris

John, goes by his old notes and finds an old case from when everything started. A Sherlock/John story from the beginnings

Summary: John, goes by his old notes and finds an old case from when everything started.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Sherlock BBC and I don't make money by writing this story. (This is taken from "The Speckled Band" story and adapted to fill my own purposes)

This is my first attempt so I apologize in advanced for any harm to your eyes

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Reviewing my old entries from this blog, which I've shared with you for eight years, I go back to some of those early cases. Those from when I lived with Sherlock at our bachelor apartment in Baker Street.

Among all these cases there is one that catches my attention. I notice now that I decided to ignore data at that time, considering it lacked in importance, but that helped form those indissoluble ties that later characterized our relationship.
One morning in early April 1883, I woke up and saw Sherlock fully dressed, standing by my bed. He used to get up late, and in view of the clock marking 7 a.m., I looked at him flashing with surprise, and perhaps some resentment, because I was not a person of morning routine.
-Sorry to wake you, John - he said - but this morning it happened to all of us. Mrs. Hudson was awakened, she got even with me, and I with you.
- What's the matter, a fire? – I asked, still a bit sleepy, while trying to cover my nudity under the covers
-No, a customer. It seems that a young lady, in a state of great excitement, insists on seeing me. She's waiting in the living room. Now, when girls wander the city so early in the morning, waking people up, one must assume that something interesting has happened. If so, I'm sure you'd like to follow it from the beginning. Also, I wanted to get even with someone.
-How considerate- I muttered through clenched tooth. Insisting on him calling before entering was a battle long ago lost. – I would not miss it for anything. –There was no greater pleasure for me that to follow Sherlock in all his researches, admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as if intuitions, with which he unraveled the problems.
I waited until he left the room and dressed in a hurry. Within minutes I was ready to accompany my friend to the living room. A lady dressed in black, sitting by the window, stood up as we entered. Her face was covered by a thick veil,

- Good morning - Sherlock said cheerfully - My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my close friend and colleague, John, with whom you can speak as freely as me. I see you are shaking, please approach the fire and John will bring you a cup of chocolate.
-It's not the cold that makes me tremble - she said quietly, changing her seat as suggested.
- What is it then?
-Is the fear, Mr. Holmes. The terror – she lifted her veil and we could see that she was indeed in a great state of agitation, looking at us with anxious and frightened eyes, like a cornered animal. Sherlock looked her up and down with one of his glances that saw everything.
-You must not be afraid - he sooth her. He bent forward and patted her shoulder, while casting a sidelong glance towards me. Sherlock always looked up for my approval in these situations, since the sensitivity was not his forte. I nodded to reassure him and then he continued - soon we'll fix everything, no doubt about it. I see you came by train this morning.
- Do you know me?
-No, but I'm seeing half of a return ticket in the palm of your left glove. You left very early and still had to make a long journey in an open car, on rough roads, before reaching the station.
The lady shook her head and stared in amazement. Me, more used to this kind of deductions, could not hide a smile
-There is no mystery - Sherlock said, shaking his hand - the left sleeve of your jacket has splashes of mud in no less than seven sites. The spots are still fresh. Only in an open car you could have been sprinkled that way

-Whatever your reasons are, you are correct in all - she said - I left home before six o'clock. I reached Leatherhead at twenty past six, and took the first train. I can not take it anymore. I will go on like crazy. – she sighed - I have read about you in the newspapers, Mr. Holmes, Do not think you could help me? For now, I am unable to repay for your services, but within a month or two I will get marry. I will have more money then and you will see that I am grateful.
Sherlock, working as he worked, more for the love of his art than for the sake of wealth, he refused to intervene in any investigation that did not tend to the unusual or even the fantastic. Waving his hands he rejected this and asked - I beg you tell us all that could help us form an opinion on the matter. - Saying this he leaned back and joined the fingertips under his chin
- My sister Julia and I were twins, and had only two years old when our mother remarried. My mother was rich, and entrusted her money to my stepfather, Dr. Roylott. But she determined that each of us should receive a certain sum in case of marriage.

"My mother died soon after, in a train accident. Dr. Roylott abandoned his attempts to establish himself as a doctor in London, and took us to live with him at his house in the country.

But our stepfather started to behave strangely. He has no friends, except for some gypsies, and these are given permission to camp on our land. He is also passionate about Indians animals and now has a cougar that wanders freely in the park.
"This made our life very stressful. When Julia died she had no more than thirty years, but her hair had started to turn gray, like mine now.
-Then your sister died? - Asked Sherlock, and I could see the interest shining in his eyes and how he had to make great efforts not to start hopping on the couch. I coughed discreetly, to get him noticed that this was inappropriate, and asked the girl to continue
-She died two years ago, and I that's why I'm here. Julia had gotten promised in marriage to a retired Navy commander. My stepfather found out of the engagement but did not object. Then, less than a fortnight before the date, her death occurred.
Sherlock had sat leaning back in his chair, with his eyes closed and his head resting on a cushion. But when he heard this he opened his eyes and faced her.
-I pray you, be precise in the details
-I find it very easy, because I have it burned in my memory. The house is very old. The bedrooms are on the ground floor, in the central block of the building. The first bedroom is of Dr. Roylott, the second of my sister, and the third mine. They don't communicate, but all share the same corridor. Do I explain myself?
-Perfectly.
-The windows of the three rooms overlook the garden. That night, Dr. Roylott had retired early, but we knew he wasn't sleeping. Julia came to my room, where she stayed for quite a while, too exited about the wedding to fall asleep. Then she asked me "Did you hear someone whistling last night in the middle of the night? - I did not know what she meant since I had not noticed anything. Resting any importance to it she went to bed

"I could not sleep that night. The wind howled outside, and rain fell hard on the windows. Suddenly, amid the roar of the storm, I heard the cry of a terrified woman. I knew it was my sister. I jumped out of bed, wrapped myself in a gown and ran into the hallway. When I opened my door, I heard a whistle, as she had described. I ran down the corridor and opened the lock of my sister's room. I stared in horror. Her face was pale with fright and her hands outstretched in petition for relief. Her whole body was swaying from side to side like a drunk. I ran and put my arms around her. She fell to the ground, shuddering in terrible pain, shaking convulsively. Then she shouted "My God, Helen! It was the band! The speckled band! ", and pointed her finger toward the doctor's room. But a new convulsion seized her and choked her words. I ran screaming for our stepfather, and I bumped into him coming out of his room. When we reached back, she was already dead. This was the dreadful end of my dear sister.
-Wait-called Sherlock. Are you sure about the whistle? Could you swear?
-That's what the judge asked. I am convinced that I heard it

- And what conclusions did the coroner get?
- He could not discover the cause of death. My testimony indicated that her door was locked and the windows had old shutters, with iron bars which were closed every night. We examined the walls and floor carefully, checking that they were good and solid. So do not doubt that my sister was alone when death came. And there were no signs of violence.
- Were there gypsies in the estate at that time?
-Yes, usually there are some.
- And what did the invocation of a band suggested you... a speckled band?
- Sometimes, you can refer to a band of people, perhaps at the same Gypsies. I do not know if the speckled tissues that many of them carry in their heads might have inspired this strange term.
Sherlock shook his head unsatisfied and began to pace the room in strides.
-We navigate in very deep water - he said - Please continue your story.
-Since then it has been two years. I have now engaged to be married in the spring. My stepfather has no problems with it. Two days ago some repairs were started in the west wing of the building and had to hole the wall of my room. I had to move to the room where my sister died. Imagine my terror last night, while I was lying awake, when I suddenly heard in the silence of the night the low whistle that had announced her death. I jumped up and lit the lamp, but saw nothing unusual in the room. I was too nervous to go back to bed, so I got dressed, and took a car at the inn, with the sole purpose of coming to see you.
-You did very well dear. But have you told me everything?
-Yes, I told you everything.
-Miss Stoner, are you covering up for your stepfather.
- How? What do you mean?
In reply, Sherlock raised the black lace adorning the hand of the girl. I had to grit my teeth not to curse. Printed on the white wrist were five little bruises, the marks of four fingers and a thumb. – You've been brutalized - said Sherlock
The lady blushed intensely and covered her injured wrist.
-He's tough, - she said - and probably does not realize his own strength.
There was a long silence, during which Sherlock rested her chin on his hands and stood staring into the fire crackling.
-It's a very complicated matter – He said at last - There are a thousand details I would like to know before deciding our plan of action, but we can not lose any time. If we went today to Stoke Moran, would we be able to see those rooms without your stepfather knowing?
-He said he was coming today to London for an important issue. Is likely to be absent all day

-Excellent. What do you think about a little field trip John?
-I think an air change would fit me - I nodded with determination yet with an eye on the girl's fragile wrist
-Then we'll both go. And what will you do?
-I will be there when you arrive.
-You can wait for us early in the afternoon
- I hope to see you again then- she dropped the black veil over her face and slid out of the room.
- How about this, John? - Sherlock asked leaning back in his chair.
-I think this matter as murky and sinister - I said, firmly clutching the back of the chair - That girl should not go back tonight, she should call the police.
- Oh John, just a pretty face appears and you lose objectivity. – Exclaimed Sherlock, shaking his head and arms - I was referring to the case
-I forgot how little importance people have to you – I said folding my arms - However, if the girl is right in saying that the walls and floor are solid, and the door and windows are impassable, not doubt that the sister had to be alone when she met her death so mysteriously.
- And then what about the whistles and the intriguing words of the dying woman?
-I can not think of anything.
-Come on John, make a little effort to activate what you insist on calling your brain. - I rolled my eyes, but did not object. I was accustomed to such exclamations, they did not contain any malicious intent and were said without thinking – Considering all the facts, there seems to be good basis to solve the mystery. Those windows shutters could not be so impenetrable.
-But how?
-I have no idea.
-I see many objections to that theory.
-Me too. Precisely that's the reason why we are going there today. I want to check if the objections are definitive or we can find an explanation to them. And now, John, tea would be great. I will try to get some data to help us in our task. - And saying that he opened his laptop and stopped speaking to me
I watched him bemused for a moment, debating between throwing something at him or going to the kitchen. In the end I opted for the second option, the cushion would have been completely ignored.
I prepared two cups of tea and I sat on the couch next to him looking over my notes. I tried to analyze the case as Sherlock would have, but my conclusions were poor and did not reach anywhere.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes. He was completely absorbed in the new case, hitting the keyboard with frenetic passion, and with his eyes shining in ecstasy. After a week of shooting at the wall, screams of boredom and endless games of cluedo this was really nice. And I could not help but smile. These were the moments when I most admired him.
It was almost one o'clock when Sherlock returned from his journey through the internet. He closed the laptop, leaned back and drank the tea, which at this point was provably frozen
-I've seen the will of the deceased wife – he said and shared a me a smile, which once again I did not understand exactly what meant - To determine the exact value, I've had to find out the current prices of the investments therein. But it is clear that if both girls had married, this clown would run out of nothing. Only marrying one he would notice a significant drop. The work of this morning was not in vain, as has been demonstrated – He stood up - and now, John, the thing is too serious to go wasting our time. So if you're willing, we will call a taxi to take us to Waterloo. - While making these statements he began to pack. I had prepared and finished packing while he was still absorbed in his computer. - I would greatly appreciate you carrying your gun. It is an excellent argument for dealing with gentlemen who can make bruises on the wrists of a girl. That and a toothbrush, I think, is all we need. - I was glad he had not spent the last detail overlooked, if only in deference to me.
At Waterloo we were fortunate to catch a train to Leatherhead, and once there we rented a car at the station inn. The day was truly superb, with a bright sun and a few cottony clouds in the sky. For me, at least, there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of spring and the sinister intrigue in which we were involved. My companion sat beside me, arms crossed over his chest, and thick black curls covering his eyes. His chin on his chest, apparently plunged in the deepest thoughts. Suddenly he stood up, graved me softly by the wrist, and pointed to the fields whispering
- Look there! - He said. - Stoke Moran? - Then asked loader to the driver
'Yes, sir, that is the home of Dr. Grimesby Roylott-confirmed the driver.
-This is where we stay.
We got out, paid the taxi ride and rattled back to Leatherhead.
-Good afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see we have kept our word.
Our client had run to meet us with the joy painted on her face.
-I have been waiting anxiously - exclaimed, shaking hands warmly - Everything went great. Dr. Roylott has gone to London, and is not likely to return before nightfall.
-Perfect. Please take us then to the rooms we have to examine.
The building was lichen-stained gray stone, with a higher central block and two wings curved like the claws of a crab, one on each side. Sherlock walked slowly back and forth across the lawn badly cut, examining with great attention the outside of the windows.
His long legs like spiders moved with agility leaving his wide black coat wave in the wind behind him. The pale cheeks flushed with cold now gave a somewhat feverish look to him
I suppose that this one corresponds to the room where you slept, the middle one to your his late sister, and the other to Dr. Roylott.
-Exactly. But now I sleep in the center.
-While the reforms last, as I have understood. But it doesn't seem to be any need for repairs at your wall.
-There is no need. I think it was an excuse to get me out of my room.
- Ah, this is very inspiring! Now, let's see: Since you both shut your doors at night, access to the rooms on that side is impossible. Now, will you please go into your room and close the shutters of the window?
Miss Stoner did what he asked, and Sherlock, after a careful exam of the window, tried by all means to open the shutters, but without success. There was no place where to pass a knife to lift the iron bar. Then he examined them with a magnifying glass, but these were of solid iron, firmly embedded in the strong wall.
- Hum! - He said, running a hand through his head and tousling his hair -. Of course, my theory has some difficulties.
- No one could pass these shutters – I said, highlighting the obvious while testing the windows myself. I noticed that Sherlock was watching me with fun, but for once made no comment.
- Well, lets see if the inside throws any light on the matter. - Said coming into the house.
He refused to consider the third room and we went straight to the second, in which Miss Stoner slept and where her sister had been killed. In one corner was a dresser, in another a narrow bed, and at the left of the window an old chair. Sherlock sat on the bed in silence, his eyes moved from side to side, up and down, taking in every detail of the room.
He rose suddenly and in two strides stood in front of me, passing his arm behind my neck - What connects this bell? - He asked at last, I had become somewhat rigid because of his proximity, but I turned to see what he was talking about, and to conceal a blush. I still could not get used to the lack of personal space of my friend. Sherlock had in his hand a thick bell-rope that hung beside the bed, and which tassel came to rest on the pillow.
-With the maid's room.
-It looks newer than the rest of things. I find it unnecessary to install a caller so beautiful here. Excuse me a minute while I examine the ground.
He lay face down on the floor with the magnifying glass in hand, and crawled quickly from side to side, carefully inspecting the cracks and then the boards covering the walls. Finally, he went to the bed and spent some time staring at the wall and looking up and down.
Finally, grabbed the bell and gave a strong pull. - Wow, is simulated! He exclaimed.
- How? Doesn't sound?
- No, is not even connected to a cable. This is very interesting. Notice that the hook is connected just above the vent.
- How absurd! I had never realized!
-It's very strange ended - Sherlock whispered, pulling the cord. - This room has one or two very curious details. And everyone seems very interesting ... fake bell cords and vents that don't vent. With your permission, Miss Stoner, we will continue our research in the next room.
The bedroom of Dr. Roylott was bigger than his stepdaughter. Holmes walked slowly through the room, examining all with the keenest interest.
- What is here? He asked, tapping the safe with his knuckles.
-Papers business.
-Then you have looked inside.
-Only once, years ago. I remember it being full of papers.
- Couldn't be there, for example, a cat?
-No. What a strange idea!
-Well, look at this - and he showed us a saucer of milk.
- No cats, but there is a cougar.
- Ah, yes, of course! Finally, after all, a cougar is just a big cat. But I would say that with a saucer of milk is not sufficient to meet their needs. One thing I want to check.
He bent down to the wooden chair and examined the seat with the most attention.
-Thank you. This is clear - he said, rising and putting his lens in his pocket. - Here is something very interesting!
The object that had caught his attention was a little whip hanging from one corner of the bed. His end was tied to form a noose.
- What does this suggest you, John? - He asked with a smile dancing in his eyes, which again I could not understand
-It is an ordinary whip. I do not know why it has this knot.
Sherlock looked a little disappointed, but went on - That's not so common, huh? Oh, John! We live in an evil world, and when a clever man devotes his talents to crime, it becomes even worse. I think I've seen enough, Miss Stoner, and with your permission, we will walk through the garden.
I had never seen my friend with a face as gloomy and furrowed brows as when we left the scene. We tour the garden several times up and down, but I dared to interrupt the course of his thoughts, when he finally emerged from his absorption.
-It is absolutely essential, Miss Stoner - he said - that you follow my instructions to the end in all aspects.
-I assure you I will.
-The situation is too serious to tread hesitation. Your life depends on to do what I say.
-Again I say I'm in your hands.
-For starters, my friend and I will have to spend the night in your room.
Both Miss Stoner and I looked at him amazed. – Wait a minute Sherlock... - I started to protest, raising my hands
Sherlock arched an eyebrow at me and continued - Yes, it is necessary. Let me explain. I think that over there is the village inn, right?
-Yes, the "Crown".
-Very well. Could we see your windows from there?
-Of course.
-Then when your stepfather returns, you will retire to your room, pleading a headache. And when you hear that he also goes to his, open the window and place a candle as a signal. Then move to the room you occupied before. I am sure that, despite the repairs, you will manage to stay there one night.
-Oh, yes, no problem.
-The rest, leave it to us.
-But what are you going to do?
-Spend the night in this room and investigate the cause of that sound that has been bothering you And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave, because if Dr. Roylott see us, our journey would have been in vain. Farewell, and be brave, because if you do what I said you can be sure that we will soon rid the dangers that are threatening you.
Sherlock and I had some difficulties in renting a bedroom in the "Crown" and finally we could only get a double bed one. The rooms were upstairs, and from our window we enjoyed a splendid view of the house.
Just arrived, and resting in our bed, Sherlock had turned to face me with a look somewhat rigid in his face - Do you know John? - He said as we sat in the darkness. - I feel uneasy to take you with me tonight. There is undoubtedly an element of danger in this case.
We had an argument after this, but my gun had won the argument. I would not lend it to him and if he needed it he would better let me go with him.
At sunset we were both lying in bed. Sherlock had fallen asleep still murmuring upset that I should not go. He was now sprawled across the entire mattress, his head resting on my shoulder and his beautiful curls tickling my nose. He had one arm across my waist and could feel his breath on my neck. He was still muttering but I could not understand what. I tried working on my notes of that case, but his incoherent mutterings didn't let me think and for some reason I could not get to relax.

Absently I ran a hand gently through his hair, interlacing my fingers with his curls, with the first idea of withdrawing his head a little, but ended up just watching him. His face was still flushed by the cold, emphasizing the paleness of his skin. He transmitted an unreal calm that made me sigh. An alert on my laptop brought me back from some confusing thoughts.
Sherlock woke at once, making me believe he had never really slept - An e-mail? - Asked while yawning as, he turned back to accommodate against the headboard.
I coughed a bit uncomfortable, feeling a burning in my cheeks, and I opened the message to read aloud "There has been a change of plans. My stepfather has not left the house. Other events have forced him to stay, and me to leave quickly. I escaped by chance. I urge you to meet me in London. I'll take the first train"
Sherlock had already jumped out of bed and was pacing through the room with long strides as he threw everything in his suitcase - This is out of plan, John. I do not understand how he could have forced her out of the house. She should have come over here where we had indicated her we would be
-Maybe someone was following her – I ventured somewhat perplexed by the situation. I stood up and began also to pack
-No John! - Sherlock reached out with a determined look. - This time you must stay. I hate this, but we may need to contact the local police and send someone home. Would be better if you were at hand
I could not help distrusting his intentions. - I can be of some help? - Sherlock was again trying to step me aside in the investigation. I started to protest but soon had to resign. After all he maintained a valid point saying it was necessary that one of us should stay.
- If you see that the doctor leaves call me immediately – and without further words left the room in search for a taxi.
I stood like stone in the middle of the room, feeling a little ridiculous and useless. I did not like to be excluded like that. I was a man of action, had been at war, and that I would be treated like a helpless puppy infuriated me. But dealing with Sherlock was impossible, and he was gone.
Half hour later I saw a car go sideways out the window and then I saw doctor Roylott, on a taxi arriving to the house. The vehicle continued through the gates. And a few minutes later, I saw a light suddenly shone through the trees, indicating that it had entered the house. An hour later this was shut down. Without knowing why, I sat on the edge of the bed to watch. Another half hour passed and then I noticed that someone had lit a candle in the center room.
Sherlock had said there was danger. Obviously, h saw in those rooms more than I could see.
The light was shining through the trees toward the mansion. It took a few minutes to make up my mind
-That's our signal - I said jumping off and heading for the door, but still not understanding very well what was happening - It comes from the middle window. - I felt the pocket of my jacket to make sure the gun was still there
A moment later I was walking down the dark road, with the cold wind blowing in my face and a small yellow light flashing before me guiding me in the darkness.

I had no difficulty entering because the walls near the park were demolished in several places. I pushed my way through the trees, suddenly aware that there was a cougar that could fall on my shoulders at any time. I confess that I felt more secure after taking off my shoes and finding myself inside the room. I closed the shutters without noise, placed the candle on the table and ran my eyes over the room. Everything was just as we had seen during the day.
I turned off the light so no one would notice me and after a moment of hesitation I turned on my phone and I sent a message to Sherlock "Dr. Roylott lay down. And someone left a candle. I'm in the room" I hit the send key and then silenced the phone for fear that the response of Sherlock could reveal my position. I did not know what to expect in that house.
I sat on a chair beside the bed still having no clue of what was I doing there. To my surprise I noticed then that the bed had been nailed to the floor. That gave me a bad feeling. I realized the girl could not have moved her bed. It had to be always in the same position with respect to the opening and cord
I took my revolver and put it in a corner of the table. Time passed and I tried not to sleep. I did not know if my life depended on it.
How could I forget that agonizing vigil? There was not a sound, not even a breath. I began to miss the presence of Sherlock, in these situations he always worked as a sedative for me. But I knew he was far away, probably already in the train to London. The shutters did not allow even a glimmer of light, so I waited in total darkness. From time to time the cry of a night owl came from outside, and once I even heard, right next to the window, a long catlike whine, which indicated that, indeed, the cougar was loose. Every fifteen minutes I heard in the distance the severe strokes of the clock of the church. How long seemed that spare time! The clock struck twelve, as I sat in silence, waiting.
I started to fall asleep with the latest bells, sleep overcame me and my eyelids closed irrevocably. I do not know how long passed. Suddenly there was a momentary glow on top, in the direction of the vent, which was extinguished immediately, then followed by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone had lit a lantern in the next room. I heard in dreams a gentle sound of movement, and then all was again silent, though the smell grew stronger. I stayed a little more awake. Suddenly there was another sound ... sound very soft and caressing, like a dash of steam coming out of a teapot. At the very moment I heard it, I realized it was the same whistle the girls had heard. And suddenly there was something around my neck, with superhuman strength. I reached into the air giving handfuls trying to reach my gun. Then I saw horrified that what had curled around my neck was a speckled band.
At the same time something completely unreal happened. The bedroom door opened suddenly and the Sherlock's silhouette appeared and disappeared into the room within a few seconds.
I continued to fight, although I had begun to lose the sense of breathlessness. I stretched my arm towards the figure of my friend, who could not be more than a dream.
-Drop it - I heard him scream - John, are you okay? Drop it – He was banging something against me, but I could not feel anything
I did not understand what he wanted me to release and everything was becoming more confused. I remember seeing all turn into a gray mist before my eyes, and then I lost consciousness.

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When I woke up I noticed I had the neck of my shirt unbuttoned and felt on the lips a spicy aftertaste of brandy. Holmes was leaning over the bed with a bottle in his hand and a strange and very serious look in his eyes
- That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen - the voice sounded like something broken. He was obviously angry and worried at the same time. I tried to sit up but my body was shaking.
Sherlock put a hand on my chest to keep me in place. I turned my head slightly, as any movement brought with it a severe pain - Where are we?
-We back in the inn - he said as he lowered his gaze, running a hand over his face. He was restless, and I could feel the subtle vibrations of fury in his voice.
- The inn? – I didn't understand. My head was still somewhat confused and spinning. I tried again to sit up and settled a little better on the pillows on my back - Something attacked me Sherlock. I went to the room because someone lit the candle after you left ... - I was trying to clear my mind - I sent you a message and I sat down to wait.
- I was calling you all night – he suddenly roared. He had raised his head and I saw the fury in his eyes. And something else ... something I have never expected to find in his eyes. Fear, pure and frantic fear - I got your message and I called but you did not answer. – His hands, resting on the table trembled uncontrollably as he clutched tightly to it.
- I ... I forgot that I had left in silence - I murmured in a pathetic excuse. I still did no understand what was I apologizing for. As far as I could remembered I had entered that room and then I had fallen asleep on the chair. And I had a strange dream, of me drowning. Then the figure of Sherlock had appeared out of the bloom screaming.
I looked up at him a bit puzzled - What did it happened?

Sherlock was breathing heavily, trying to reestablish his self-control – I'm sorry - he muttered while standing up and approaching the window. – It was my entire fault, I should have thought of it. - There was anguish in his eyes and for a moment I thought I had glimpse a slight tremor in his lips. And then it was gone. But Sherlock admitting a mistake was something that did not happened every day. He turned his back to me and went on - The e-mail was a hoax. I understood later when I was on the train. The girl would have never gone to London knowing that we were so close. It lacked of logic. Then I got your message - at this point his voice broke again as he graved the edge of the window.

In the meantime I had approached him without making much noise, trying to avoid shaking his already fragile state of mind. I rested my hand on his back and felt him startled - So it was really you who came into the room?
For all answer he turned to face me, his hand on my shoulder near my neck. -When I entered the snake was coiled around you - with his fingers he softly touched the wound that it had left me at the neck

I swallowed hard - Snake? - I gasped and then realized what I had seen and what the whistle meant. A shiver ran through my body and my arm still in the back of Sherlock was closed further when he approached me to surround me with his own. I felt his chin against my forehead and his breath on my hair.
- A snake from the swamps - he roared softly - The deadliest snake in India. Julia died ten seconds of being bitten. It was just luck that it did not try to bite you John. - I felt my legs gave way to my weight, but Sherlock held me and helped me get to bed. Then lying down next to me

He had his arms still around me and like that we both felt asleep. - Don't ever say I don't care again - he whispered pulling me next to him