I like these "perspective pieces"-they let me explore sides of things we just don't get a chance to see in canon. I wondered what might be going through the British Government's mind once it all went down in "His Last Vow," and this was the result.
Characters not mine, please don't sue.
It was six words that put the world into perspective. Six simple words, and damn him for not seeing it coming.
The game with the hat had been the clue. It had been there, staring him in the face. It doesn't matter that I'm different. People still care about me.
Caring. It never had been an advantage; rather, it was an unwelcome lever, useful only for those like the Swede lying stone dead on the portico below. Wet eyes blinked as he thought of the Fall, the elaborate scheme that had been necessary to save lives.
Lives, it seemed, that were more important.
He faintly remembers the old landlady chattering on about family. He saw, crystal clear, the reaction when it seemed she was being so much as insulted by him. He didn't want to think about what must have transpired to cause a reaction such as cold-blooded murder.
He preys on those who are different. Those had been his brother's words about the splayed-out man below, now late of this world. How could he have been so stupid as to miss all the warning signs?
Unwanted emotion ran thick, clogging his throat. He saw the look of astonishment—no, bewilderment—upon the doctor's face, as if the earth had spun 'round its axis counterclockwise and fallen out of orbit.
The doctor. Of course. Only that kind of threat could elicit such a response. There were many his brother would frame, assault, and even ensnare for the sake of his friends. But the doctor…
He recalls the scene in his brother's flat, the younger man higher than a kite on god-knew-what. He knew the relationship between them was flawed at best, but it was more than obvious that his relationship with the feisty medical professional was as solid as ever. Especially when the shorter man was the one barking orders and giving direction—a situation the British Government was quite unused to altogether.
He thought about the meaning of the word "brother." To him, it was a blood tie; something that was chance, a happenstance that forged a relationship best left unexplored (for the best, really) so as not to become a liability.
Staring out past the windscreen of the helicopter at the detective under lights and his thoroughly shaken friend, he realized that to his brother, the word had a whole different meaning.
The emotion grew thicker. "Oh, Sherlock," he whispered. "What have you done?"