She had been drinking with her friend Amy late one Thursday night when she got the call. The two friends had been to a poker club in the main town and enjoyed a few hands and a few too many beers before the need to go back to her flat gripped her. Chrissie was no wall flower but enjoyed her routines and her bedtime routine was very important to her. She lived just outside the smallish town, out of sight in the country side. Amy came with her to her small, smart flat and they were enjoying a glass of chardonnay when her phone started to ring. Curious as to who would ring at 1am she glanced down at the mobile in her hand. Lydia, her sister was in need, so she answered trying hard not to slur her words. "Lyd, what's up?" she asked, a cold dread filling her,
"I need you, he's hurt and I need you to watch Sherlock," furious Chrissie had the concentrate hard as she took in her sister's almost sobbed word, seeing, quite clearly in her mind's eye what must have happened. A murderous hatred settling into her stomach.
"What the bloody hell has that wanker done now? Lyd? Answer me Sis!" Chrissie demanded as she began pulling her shoes on and giving Amy an apologetic glance she listened to her older sister's answer.
"He was drunk, you know how he gets." She explained.
"I DON'T CARE HOW DRUNK HE WAS!" She forced herself to calm down, "Did he hurt you? Did he hurt the children?" concerned, Chrissie grabbed her coat & bag and flew out of the flat in a flurry of purple skirt, coat billowing and her silk scarf trailing behind her.
"No, I'm fine, it... it's Mycroft, he stopped him but he got hurt, I need to take him to A&E but I don't want Sherlock to be alone if Siger comes back." Lydia was sobbing, every so often she whispered, "it's going to be okay… shhhhh darling," as if Myc was in her arms as she mumbled into the phone.
"Fuck sake sis, when will you get it in to your thick head? Your husband is a bastard, isn't it bad enough that he hurts you? But to touch my nephews… I'm going to kill him, you hear me? I'll bloody well kill him!"
The Holmes family lived in a huge estate on the other side of town to Chrissie. She would live closer but Siger, Lydia's arse of a husband made her life a living hell whenever she saw him so she compromised and lived close enough to help and see her beloved nephews but far enough that Wanker-man left her alone. She really hated him. It was a good 20mins at a fast walk but there was no use trying to get a cab. The local cab firm only had two cars both, so she'd been told earlier when she and Amy had tried, were engaged in jobs till at least 4am; she couldn't wait till then.
She stalked through the park and up towards the main road leading back out of town. Her mind racing; what if Siger was back? What if Mycroft was really badly hurt? What about little Sherlock? Was he okay? Cowering in his room under the bed like last time? Was she walking into danger herself? She whipped out her phone and rang Amy and on the 4th ring Amy answered groggily, "Hello? Chrissie?"
"Mate, I need you to do me a favour. I'm about 5 mins from Lyd's place, if I don't miss call you or text you in half an hour call the police and an ambulance and send them to Holmes Manor, got it?"
"999 in half hour, sure got it, be safe girl, okay?" she said sadly,
"Don't you worry about me chick, I'll be alright, I'm just worried it he comes back. Half an hour ok? Speak soon, sweets," she pressed end call and rounded the corner to the massive pebbled driveway. No cars. Good. He's still out, hopefully he'll wrap his car round a tree, she thought viciously. She reached the front door, knocked once, then let herself in with the spare key, Siger thinks Lydia lost years ago. The fool.
"Lydia? Mycroft, Sherlock?" She hollered into the lobby of the huge house. It had been passed down on Siger's side for hundreds of years and cost a fortune to heat in the winter but was wonderfully cave-like in the summer heat. It truly was a magnificent old house. Secluded and filled with curious nooks and cranny the boys, especially Sherlock, loved to explore. She shouted out again, beginning her search in the dining room. Once she'd finished with the first floor she began upstairs, checking Siger's office first. She gingerly pushed open the heavy oak door and gasped at the sight before her. He sister sat on the floor sobbing and clutching her eldest son to her chest as the twelve year old boy bleed from a nasty gash across his right eye, the blood trickling down his pale cheek, soaking his shirt collar. Lydia was rocking him back and forth, murmuring nothings into his blood-matted hair.
"Oh God!" she surged forward and helped her sister lower Mycroft onto the floor a plush red cushion under his head. She brushed his hair away from the cut to see the lump and bruising beneath the blood. She checked his breathing and pulse as best she could given her lack of medical training and frankly tipsy state. He looked so helpless and small, she had to hold back her tears and take charge of the situation. "We have to call an ambulance."
"NO!" Lydia exclaimed, began to panic, "No, you don't understand, he'll find out! He'll hurt them more! I can't, I can't keep watching it, Chrissie!"
Pushing down her anger at Siger's complete control over her sister, she said very calmly, "can you drive then? Because I can't and there are no taxi's."
"yes, I can.. t. car is round the back."
"okay, then get the key, bring the car round and I'll carry Myc down to you, then you drive off, get him to the hospital and I'll take Sherlock to mine, okay?" her sister nodded in agreement and with one last look at her beautiful, brave son she left the room to get the car.
"Okay the Myc darling, just you and me. Don't suppose you feel like waking up do you, huh?" she waited a moment before putting her arm gently under his delicate neck to support it and pulled him into a sitting position. "I'll take that as a no then sweets, not that I blame you. Okay. If I can just… wow, what's your mum feeding you? Nah, only kidding, you're perfect mate."
She managed to get him into her arms and wobbly rose to a standing position, Mycroft limp in her arms, "now to get to the car. Easy peasy. Beat going to the gym any day!" she tried to make light as she struggled to carry him down the hall way, dreading the stair case. Her arms trembled with the strain, and she shifted him into a more comfortable position before daring to take a step down the long stair case. She counted the steps out loud as she progressed, infinitely grateful to not have dropped her precious cargo. She released a sigh of relief when she reached the bottom and sagged back slightly to lean on the rail and catch her breath. "last leg now, love, you still with me?" the child in her arms, made a slight noise, as if he were dreaming and she took heart from it. She crossed the hall in fits and starts, her breath ragged, arms painfully strained, she wasn't used to carrying ten stone in her arms. The front door was ajar, so with one foot she deftly pulled it open and carried on outside to the waiting car. Lydia sprang out and helped lower Mycroft onto the backseat and they spent a moment debating how to strap him in. they finally decided up laying him flat and pulling both belts across him along with a blanket.
"Right, you take him straight to A&E, I'll find Sherlock, don't worry, it'll be fine, I promise." The sisters embraced tightly before Lydia was speeding off down the driveway and Chrissie wearily turned around to go find her youngest nephew, hoping he wasn't so scared that he'd run off or was hiding in some obscure place of his.