Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Fanfic 2
A few months has passed since Mycroft and Lastrade had officially tied the knot. Sherlock and John was planning their wedding and working on cases with Lastrade. Well, I guess it would more appropriate to call him Greg since Lastrade was no longer his last name. After quite a few conversations, Greg and Mycroft settled on having Greg taking the Holmes name despite Mycroft's objection of it not being suitable for the DI of New Scotland Yard.
Speaking of cases, Sherlock and John was heading to a double murder. The cab took them to a very populated part of London where police tape was hung everywhere. John paid the cabbie like usual as Sherlock jumped out and almost flew to the bodies lying in the ally. John got out of the cab and stood on the street. Flashbacks of him getting shot in the ally almost a year ago flashed in his mind but he pushed them away and walked after his fiancée.
He found Sherlock crouched over a body of a young man in his early thirties. John noted the other body was of an older male probably in his early fifties. Both men had stab wounds and lying in their own blood face down.
"John, could you tell me how long they have been dead?" Sherlock asks keeping his eyes on the young man.
John took a pair of gloves from someone and snapped them on. He looked over the older male and then the younger male, yet, not looking at them.
"I would say about 3 hours, at the most. Not long at all." John says.
He then watched as Sherlock rolled over the younger male and John got the full look at him. When he did, his face paled. Greg noticed.
"John, are you alright, mate?" He asked concerned.
Sherlock instantly snapped his eyes to his fiancée.
"I…I…no. It can't possibly be him." John mumbled looking at the younger man.
"John, do you know him?" Sherlock asks.
"Got anything, freak?" Donavon asks walking up to them.
"I see you spent the night with…"
"Did you find identification on them, Sally?" John asks interrupting Sherlock's rapid deductions of Donavon. His voice was eerily calm and it worried Sherlock but he kept his mouth shut for once even though at least 10 questions were flashing through his mind.
"Yeah. The older gent is Alex Higgins and the younger one is David Scott." She says.
"Oh, God, I wish I was wrong." John said his voice dropping to a whisper. Sherlock stood and placed his hands on John's shoulders. He stared into John's eyes intensely.
"John, love, did you know him?" Sherlock asked gently. He started to stroke John's jaw because that was Sherlock's way of soothing him.
No matter how many times Sherlock acted human and showed affection towards John; Donavon was still shocked and surprised.
"I served in Afghanistan with David until I was discharged. He helped save my life when I was shot. A damn good soldier, he was." John said rubbing his face tiredly.
Sherlock kissed John's forehead and turned to Greg.
"These men had a fight. It led to them pull weapons, which are kicked under the dumpster, and killed each other. Open and shut, Greg." Sherlock says a little more tamed than usual.
"Someone go check under the dumpster. You and John can go now, Sherlock." Greg says.
"Thank you, Greg." Sherlock says. He grabs John's hand and they hail a cab.
The ride to 221b Baker's Street is quiet. Once in their living room, John practically collapses into his chair. Sherlock makes tea and hands a cup to John and sits in his own chair.
"You wish to speak about it, love?" Sherlock asks taking a sip of his tea.
"I was friends with David, Sherlock. He and I were in the same company. We fought together, killed together, and had each other's back. He saved my arse plenty times during the war and I saved his. He became a close friend. The last time I saw him was when I was shot. No Army doctors but me were around so I thought I was good as dead. Then he appeared and refused to let someone as stubborn as me die. Then I was shipped off and discharged leaving him in Afghanistan. I haven't heard from him in 4 years, Sherlock! I thought he was dead." John says staring at his tea.
"I'm sorry." Sherlock says.
"Me, too. I protected him, Sherlock. I feel like I should have been there to protect him from that other man." John sighs.
"John, you couldn't have prevented this. Love, let us go to bed, shall we? We can have a lay in since you are off tomorrow." Sherlock says. John sits down his tea, cold now, and nods. Sherlock grabs his hand and leads them to their bedroom where both of them curl up into each other and fall to sleep.
That night, John dreams of war.
Captain John H. Watson, Army Doctor, is running. Shots are raining down all around him and his company. Soldier David Scott is at his side. They were separated from the others and were running with their guns held in front of them.
"Johnny, we're done for!" David shouts.
"Don't talk like that, soldier! We shall live through this!" John shouts as a bullet whizzes past his ear, barely missing it.
"I'm frightened, John. What if we die here?" David asks.
"We won't die! I won't let us!" John shouts. They jump into a ditch and start shooting and ducking. Suddenly, pain erupts from his shoulder. John shouts painfully and falls back.
"John!" David shouts fearfully. Dirt and blood cover his face now. John's face is ashen. Blood flows from a wound in his shoulder. David places his hands on the wound.
"It's no use, David. I'm going to bleed out before help comes. Leave and save yourself." John says gasping at the pain. It was white hot and felt like as if someone stabbed him with a blade that was on fire and red hot. Then it felt like as if that knife was being twisted around and around in his shoulder.
"No! You said we wouldn't die and I'm holding that to you, Captain Watson!" David growls pressing down harder. John flinches.
"David, if you stay, those snipers will surely shoot you as well. Leave me here and I'll hold them off while you find the others." John says gripping David's wrist tightly.
"No, you stubborn fool! If you die, I'll die! I will not leave you alone!" David says.
Bullets start coming from both sides of the ditch there in.
"John, don't you dare die on me! Without you, those idiots in our company will continue insulting my sexuality. You're my protector, remember?" David says trying to remain calm and failing.
"You're a brave soldier. You'll handle it." John says closing his eyes.
"John...John…!"
John is ripped from his dream by someone shouting his name. He sits up quickly and runs to the bathroom where he throws up bile. Sherlock jumps and follows him. He rubs John's back soothingly as John dry heaves a few times.
"Breath, love. Deep breathes. In and out." Sherlock whispers as he traces patterns on his partner's back in an effort to calm him.
After a few minutes, John leans back against the tub with sweat collecting on his brow and upper lip. Sherlock wets a flannel and gently wipes John's face.
"The men in my company used to insult David every chance they got. He was gay, you know? The men in my company thought fags didn't belong in the Army and it always riled me up. I think that's when I subconsciously knew I was gay myself." John said.
Sherlock gets on his knees in front of John and takes his hand. He stays silent as his lover continues.
"They only found out when he got a letter from his boyfriend. David's boyfriend sent a picture of himself holding a 'Come Home, Baby' sign and they sneered at him in disgust. They took that picture and ripped it. I got angry and assigned them the roughest duty I could under our conditions at camp. From then on, David and I were close." John says.
"You were brave to stick up for him. No one stuck up for me when I was younger and, 'came out of the closet', as people say. Well, Mycroft did until he left for Uni." Sherlock says.
"I had to. He and those men were my responsibility." John says clenching the hand Sherlock wasn't holding.
"You didn't have to because you were Captain but you did it because you knew it wasn't right. Now, I say we go back to bed. I do believe we need to do some grocery shopping tomorrow. It'll help get your mind off things." Sherlock says helping John off the floor and to his feet. He was a bit unsteady but Sherlock managed to get him in bed and they slept for the remaining 3 hours until dawn.
When morning poked through the curtains, Sherlock quietly got out of John's grip on him and went to make him some tea. A few minutes later, Sherlock heard John get up and he entered the kitchen not 5 minutes later. He walked over and kissed Sherlock long and tenderly. He then sat at the table and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Sherlock handed John's tea to him and sat down to drink his own. His phone then buzzed informing his of a text message.
Have a case that might interest you.-GH
I am not taking any cases today, Lastrade-SH
And why the bloody hell not?-GH
John and I are taking to day off to do some shopping-SH
You never go shopping. Are you ill? Should I call Myc?-GH
Do leave Mycroft out of this-SH
And no, I am not ill. I am trying to comfort John since his old friend was just killed yesterday- SH
Oh. Well, I'll just have Donavon look into the case. How's he doing?-GH
It will be days until she solves it-SH
And he's doing as well as expected, I suppose.-SH
I'll be by later to look at the scene. Don't let Anderson touch it-SH
I thought you and he were friends?-GH
Don't be stupid. Anderson's rubbing off on you. Now, I will see you later.-SH
"Who was that?" John asks.
"Greg. Not important. Let's go out and shop for groceries, shall we?" Sherlock says.
"Let's have a shower and change then we can. You know, I can go by myself. I won't break because I lost a friend, Sherlock." John says heading to the shower. Sherlock followed him and together, they undressed and showered together. Well, had sex in the shower until it got cold and then got out and dried off.
John put on his cream colored jumper (the one Sherlock loved the most) and Sherlock had on his, as John called, his Purple Shirt of Sex (or the purple silk shirt). John had on his tan trousers and Sherlock's black ones. They slipped on their shoes, grabbed wallets, and keys, and were out the door. It was a beautiful day so they decided to walk down the peaceful streets of London to the market.
It took them about 20 minutes to arrive to the market. They entered and John retrieved a trolley while Sherlock went off to get…whatever. John went to the frozen vegetables where he froze in shock.
At the end of the aisle were 3 ex-soldiers of his company when he was in Afghanistan. They were the ones who insulted David most of the time. John feared they would resent him and debated turning around. Then one turned, Kyle Houghman, turned and smiled at him.
"Captain Watson!" He said happily. The other two, Gerald Arndell and Hayden Smith, turned and smiled at John as well. The trio then made their way to John.
"Hello, Captain. Long time no see, huh." Hayden says. He's at least a foot taller than John with jet black hair, with a hint of grey now, and wore glasses.
"Hayden." John says politely.
"How's long has it been, Johnny Boy? 6 years since we served together?" Gerald says.
"Give or take, yes." John says. He looks past them hoping to see Sherlock but the tall, dark curly haired detective was nowhere to be seen.
"So how have you been?" Kyle asks.
"Oh, you know, working at the local clinic and sometimes consulting Scotland Yard on cases." John says casually. Gerald huffs disbelievingly.
"Really? You don't have to lie to us, John. You're invalid! Surely Scotland Yard would have any use for an old Army doctor who was discharged for being wounded." Gerald says. John's anger rises.
"I will assure you, I am not lying. I also happen to be good friends with Detective Inspector Holmes-Lastrade. I also helped solved the death of our mutual friend David Scott." John says standing straight. He became Captain Watson once again.
"That faggot? Well, I have to say, he won't be missed." Hayden says.
Sherlock growled. Growing up, bullies would beat him and call him a faggot all the time. To this day, when he hears that word, he gets so angry and looks back to the day Mycroft had beat up one bully after hearing him be called that. Of course, Mycroft was bullied as well before he beat up Sherlock's bully. Then, no one bothered either of them. There was talk, of course, about them but never to their faces.
Oh, off point. Anyway, let's continue.
"He will. I miss him. He was a good man, a great soldier, and the man who saved me from Death." John says trying to suppress his mounting anger.
During this exchange, Sherlock was at the end of the aisle behind the ex-soldiers and suppressing his own anger.
'How dare they!' Sherlock thought angrily.
"He was still a faggot and had no reason to be in the Army. The Army has no need for fairies. It needs muscular men like us." Kyle says.
This is when Sherlock had enough. He went by, shoving between Hayden and Gerald roughly, and stood beside John. He placed tea in the trolley and turned to the men.
"Oh, I'm sorry, John. I didn't realize you were talking." Sherlock says evenly.
"Like hell you didn't!" Hayden growls.
"You're right, I did know. I also know you and your wife recently divorced and you are taking it hard." Sherlock says analyzing Hayden.
"How did you know that?" He asked shocked.
"The white ring around your ring finger. It implies you recently stopped wearing a ring, hence, divorce. And taking it hard? The state of your wardrobe, the faint smell of alcohol, and the stubble on your chin says it hasn't been easy." Sherlock said easily.
"Who are you?" Kyle asks.
"I am Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. I happen to be John's…"
"Fiancée." John says interrupting Sherlock. He then laces his hand with Sherlock's. The three ex-soldiers look shock and disgusted.
"What? You're a faggot?" Gerald asked angrily.
John stood tall and looked into Gerald's eyes with a cold, threatening stare. Gerald flinched back. The others stood straight and at attention and avoiding their ex-commander's eyes.
"Yes I am. Is that a problem, soldier?" Captain Watson asked with a snarl.
"N-no." Gerald, Hayden, and Kyle say fearfully.
"No, what?" John asked.
"No, sir." The three said in unison. They then turned and skittered off.
"John, I do believe you should take me home now." Sherlock says his voice dropping low and rough. Of course, John noticed and raised an eyebrow.
"Why?" John asks.
"Because that was the hottest thing I have ever heard and I now have a raging erection and I refuse to do anything else until you take care of it." Sherlock says shifting uncomfortably. John smiles mischievously.
"I do need to get this shopping done, Sherlock." John says innocently.
"John…" Sherlock whined.
"Fine. Go hail a cab while I check out." John says waving Sherlock away.
While John is checking out, his phone vibrates.
That's one way of handling my brother, Doctor.-MH
John shakes his head and takes the groceries to the cab Sherlock had waiting. Once they got to 221B Baker's Street, Sherlock quickly placed the groceries on the table and dragged John to their bedroom where John made love to Sherlock multiple times.
A few hours later, while the men were enjoying the after bliss of making love, Sherlock's phone rings. He grabs it. It's a text message.
Are you going to come to the crime scene?-GH
Tell me about the case-SH
2 dead, 1 critical. Gunshot wounds. One to the chest, one in the thigh. The critical victim had one in the stomach.-GH
The one in critical condition did it and then tried to kill themselves. Murder-suicide. If he comes to, he'll confess from the guilt. Anderson's stupidity must be rubbing off on you because I didn't even have to come to the scene to solve it. Now, goodbye. Text me when you have an interesting case.-SH
Sherlock, do you have to be a bastard all the time?-GH
Sherlock huffs and the noise made John shift in his sleep. He unconsciously tightens his hold around Sherlock's waist and pushes his head farther onto Sherlock's chest.
Yes.-SH
And do assume I'm a bastard because you just interrupted my after sex bliss-SH
Way more than I wanted to know.-GH
Sherlock drops his phone on the bedside table and settles in bed without waking John. Usually sleep would come pretty easy after sex but today he felt…off. Somewhere deep in his gut, he felt as if something was about to happen. The feeling made him feel slightly sick and he didn't know why. His genius brain then went into action thinking of all bad conclusions to his gut feeling, all of which involved his John being hurt again or killed.
He didn't know how long it was that he laid there awake with the arms of his lover around him. Could have been minutes or hours. Either way, a knocking on the door snapped him out of his mind Sherlock carefully slid out from underneath John without waking him and slipped on his trousers. He padded barefoot to the door and opened it. It was Mycroft.
"Mycroft, to what do I owe the pleasure of having your company today?" Sherlock asks his usual tone softer now that he and Mycroft were getting along.
"Mother and Father called myself and asked for us to attend the annual Holmes family reunion so we can introduce Gregory and John to some of the family." Mycroft says. Sherlock sighs.
"I do hate those annoying gatherings. Does she not know that neither of us has been to one for years?" Sherlock asks. He then waves his brother inside and Sherlock sits in his chair while Mycroft takes a seat of the couch.
"She insists that since I have a husband now and you a fiancée that we should come this year and, I quote, 'Show them off to the family' as Mother put it." Mycroft says.
"She does know that there are quite a few relatives who are against homosexuality, does she not? It would most defiantly end in disaster if we attend." Sherlock says.
"I am quite certain she is aware of the fact. She just chooses to ignore it like you ignore the law." Mycroft says.
"My ignoring the law solves cases for your husband." Sherlock says.
"I know." Mycroft says sighing. "But, I done told her I would attend with Gregory and convince you to come with John."
Sherlock jumps up.
"There is no way I will be attending that stupid gathering of unintelligent minds and try to be friendly while they talk about whom we are attractive to, and in your case, married to!" Sherlock shouts.
"Do keep your voice down, Sherly. We mustn't wake John. Now, would you please do this? With Gregory off this weekend, you will be forced to work with that Inspector Jones since Inspector Dimmick is also off and I do know how much you despise him." Mycroft says.
"He is an imbecile so why wouldn't I not like him? Fine, but I can't keep John in line if here hears a comment about our relationship. One day was quite enough even though I did get mind blowing sex after wards." Sherlock says smirking a bit.
"I know unfortunately." Mycroft says standing. "I will inform Mummy and Father we will both be attending with our partners. Do try and not get injured between now and then, brother mine."
"I make no promises, Myc. Now run along so I can sleep at least a few more hours before talking to John about this." Sherlock says. Mycroft nods and embraces his younger brother for a split a second before leaving.
Sherlock then heads back to the bedroom, removes his trousers, and gets into bed beside his John. The man instantly snuggles up to Sherlock and the consulting detective finds himself drifting off, his bad feeling forgotten.
Both Sherlock and John wake up the next day around morning. John yawns and stretches before kissing Sherlock tenderly. Sherlock grabs the back of John's head and deepens the kiss. He then thrusts his hips slightly rubbing his obvious erection against his lover's thigh.
"I have work today, Sherlock." John says pulling away. Sherlock smirked at how his fiancée was panting from the kiss.
"But, Jawn!" Sherlock whines.
"No. I promised Sarah I would come in today and cover her shift." John says pulling away and standing.
"Ugh, but what am I going to do about this?" Sherlock asks throwing the duvet away from his body and revealing his erection standing proud. Sherlock then swallows as John grins mischievously and advance on him like a predator would its prey.
John gets on his knees between Sherlock's long legs and grabs his hips in a bruising grip.
"What will I do about this, I wander?" John says flashing Sherlock a devious grin which makes the lanky man harder.
Sherlock looked at John with pupil blown eyes as he lowered his head towards his cock. The doctor licks a strip from the base to the tip where he lapped up the pre-cum that had accumulated there. Sherlock shudders. Then John takes the head into his mouth and Sherlock can't keep back the moan as that familiar heat surrounded the head. John sucked on it lightly coaxing another moan, louder this time, from Sherlock. Then, all at once, John took him all in his mouth and Sherlock yelped in surprise. The heat of John's mouth made him thrust up trying to fuck the doctor's mouth but John tightened his hold on his hips to keep him still. John then began to bob his head slowly making Sherlock groan and moan.
"Ah…ah, John…yes…"Sherlock moaned closing his eyes in pleasure. John started to suck faster and made Sherlock grab and try and hold John's hair but only to ground himself. Minutes later, he came with a shout of 'John!' and came down his lover's throat. John licked him clean and smiled smugly at Sherlock.
Sherlock pulled John into a fierce and dirty kiss and moaned when he could taste himself on John's tongue. When John pulled away, Sherlock was smiling and seemed peaceful.
"I have to go now, love. I will see you tonight. And if you happen to go on any cases alone, do be careful." John says standing and dressing. Sherlock just watched in pleasure at his fiancée.
"I will, John, and if I'm not, Lastrade will inform you as always." Sherlock says.
With one last kiss, John leaves and heads to the clinic where he worked. Sherlock then dressed and decided to head to New Scotland Yard. While putting on his coat, he found a note and a few bills. The note read:
'I figured you would head to see Greg so I left some bills for a cab.
Love,
John
The consulting detective smiled fondly and hailed a cab to New Scotland Yard. He paid the cabby and strolled in. There was only three officers and plus Donavon and Anderson. Donavon and Anderson huffed irritated once they spotted him.
"Hey, Freak." Donavon says.
"Donavon, how nice to see you on this fine morning." Sherlock says happily.
"You're happy?" Anderson questions.
"Wonderful observation as always, Anderson! Of course I'm happy. I have no reason to not be, do I?" Sherlock asks.
"I guess not." Anderson says uncertain.
"What do you want, freak?" Donavon asks.
"Oh, just to see if there's a case. John is at work so I need something to do while he's gone." Sherlock says.
"No cases, freak. If there was, we are more than capable to solve them without you." Donavon says.
"Then why does Greg call me?" Sherlock asks looking at her with a look that said you-can't-solve-cases-without-me.
"Because he's shagging your brother and does it as a favor to him." Anderson says.
"Mycroft has about as much control over Greg as I do over John. They do what they want and Greg happens to want my help." Sherlock says annoyed. He always hated when people thought he got away with things because of the power his older brother had.
"Your brother a sore subject for you? He got power and you're probably jealous." Anderson says.
"I am not jealous of my brother, Anderson. I could have power if I wanted it with my superior mind but choose to help the simple minds of you and the other Yarders." Sherlock says.
"Then I guess we should feel privileged that the freak graces us with his presence?" Donavon asks sneering.
"Why of course! Without me, most of the cases you have received would go unsolved." Sherlock says.
"They would have been solved without…"
A gunshot and the shattering of glass made the three bows and cover their heads. Sherlock turned and his breathe was caught in his throat. At least three men stood at the entrance of New Scotland Yard with a man in a very familiar three piece suit with a sack over their head with their arms tied behind them. Their guns were pointed at the officers who managed to pull out their weapons. Sherlock noticed Greg at the door of his office with a gun drawn as well. By the look on his face, he had an idea who was in the suit, too.
"Guns down or the man gets it." The one holding the tied man said putting a gun at the man's head. Sherlock cursed silently as the officers and Greg did as commanded. Then one of the other men went to collect the guns and threw them out the door. Then two not holding the man chained closed the doors and cuffed the officers, Donavon, Anderson, Greg, and Sherlock. Chairs were lined up and they were forced into them. The tied man was placed a few feet across from them.
"What do you guys want?" Greg asks.
"We will be asking the questions, Detective Inspector Holmes." The man, who Sherlock dubbed the leader, said. He then pulled the sack off the man's head and heard his brother-in-law gasp.
Mycroft Holmes was bleeding from a cut above his right eyebrow and an already darkening bruise was forming under his left eye. He was gagged and his eyes widened as he saw Greg and Sherlock. His face was pale and his eyes were moist as if he wanted to cry. His suit was stained with dirt and his expensive shoes were scuffed. The suit jacket wasn't present but the sleeve of one side of his white shirt was torn and blood stained it. Sherlock cursed again and berated himself for not noticing the injury right off.
"What do you bastards want?" Greg growls struggling with his cuffs.
His eyes were blazing with anger as he looked over Mycroft for any other injuries. Sherlock had no doubt in his mind Greg would kill those men for laying a hand on his husband and Sherlock would help him do it.
"What do we want? We, Detective Inspector Holmes, want revenge on you for killing our brother." The leader says.
"Revenge, really? How utterly boring." Sherlock can't resist saying. He then ignores the glares he receives from everyone in the room. The most heated ones being Mycroft's and Greg's.
"Not the time, Freak." Donavon growls lowly from Sherlock's left.
"And who are you?" The leader asks coming to stand in front of Sherlock.
"I am Sherlock Holmes and that man you have is my older brother and if you lay another hand on him, I will make sure your body will never be found." Sherlock says threatening.
"So, I have all the Holmes's right here, do I? How very interesting. And you say he's," The leader points to Mycroft, "Is you brother, you say? I guess I can kill two birds with one stone, as the American's say."
The leader walks over to Mycroft, who is sitting stiff in his chair, didn't even flinch as the gun was placed to his temple.
"You leave my husband alone! You want me? Fine! Leave the others out of it!" Greg shouts. He stands but one of the other men come over and pushes him back down.
"I would stay seated unless you want your husband's brain splattered all over the wall, Detective Inspector Holmes." The leader says cocking the gun. Mycroft's eyes met Greg's and they pleaded for him to remain calm. Greg nodded and looked at the man with anger.
"Do tell about this revenge you want against Gr…Detective Inspector Holmes." Sherlock says.
"The Detective Inspector killed my brother last week. He was just a kid, for God's sake!" The leader shouts. Sherlock froze in horror. He remembered the case and by the look on Greg's face, he did too. Problem is, though, Greg was not the one who killed the boy. It was John.
"Detective Inspector Holmes didn't kill anyone. It was…"
"Jones, shut it or you're fired!" Greg hisses. The cop shut his mouth with an audible clack.
"Who? Speak up, officer. I just want the man who killed him and the rest of you can go free." The leader says.
"Boss, the whole reason we kidnapped Mr. Holmes is to get revenge on the DI. Since it's not him, we have a kidnapping charge for no reason!" One of the other men says a bit panicked.
'He's new to this.' Sherlock deduces inside his head.
The leader slaps the man.
"Get hold of yourself, Jenkins!" The leader shouts.
"I hope you do realize that my brother is part of the British Government and whoever kidnaps him will have to deal with treason against London." Sherlock says.
"Part of the British Government!?" Jenkins squeaks.
"Oh yes. Plus charges of basically kidnapping the DI and the officers here, those charges will be much worse. Plus myself. My fiancée happens to be ex-military and most certainly will not let you leave this room alive if I'm harmed." Sherlock says smiling.
"Then I best give him a reason then." The leader says coming up to Sherlock. He grabs Sherlock by his hair and pulls him to his feet. He places the gun to Sherlock's Adam's apple.
"Shooting me will not have any effect for your revenge for I didn't shoot your brother." Sherlock says calmly.
The leader growls and pushes Sherlock away. The consulting detective falls backwards and his head hits the desk then he falls to the floor. Mycroft tries to shout but it comes out muffled.
"Bastard!" Greg shouts.
"Fond of that word, aren't you?" The leader says looking at Sherlock as he tried to sit up. The leader grabs him and pulls him to his feet and shoves into the chair. Sherlock is now bleeding from his right temple. The bloods slide down the side of his face, jumping out on the pale skin. The consulting detective is trying to blink the blurriness from his eyes.
Then, they hear sirens outside.
"That would be more officers here to arrest your asses. Along with S.W.A.T and highly trained FBI Agents." Greg says.
"I do not care. I am not leaving this room until the man who killed my brother is bleeding out at my feet!" The leader shouts angrily.
"Well, that person is not here!" Sherlock shouts.
"Someone tell me who did it or I will start shooting people! Starting with her!" The leader says pointing his gun at Donavon. She freezes and her eyes go wide with fear.
"John did it!" Anderson shouts.
"Phillip!" Donavon says shocked.
"John? Who is John?" The leader asks taking the gun and pointing it at Anderson.
"Anderson, I swear to God, if you say anything that I will kill you myself and then dump your body in the Thames." Sherlock threatens with a death glare. Anderson looks from the gun to Sherlock and back.
"Not going to speak now?" The leader asks.
He places the gun to Anderson's forehead. Anderson whimpers and then the leader squeezes the trigger. Then the phone in Greg's office starts to ring. Everyone freezes. The leader slowly removes the gun from Anderson and the man slumps back in relief. The leader walks into the office and answers the phone.
"What was you thinking, Anderson?" Greg says angry.
"That I don't want to die for something I didn't do!" Anderson says.
"Yeah and is John getting murdered is better?" Greg snaps.
"Anderson, just so you know, I was quite serious about killing you and dumping your body." Sherlock says closing his eyes and trying to will the headache he has away.
"Hey, Sherlock, stay awake. You probably have a concussion." Greg says.
"Great observation, Greg." Sherlock says sarcastically. He opens his eyes anyway and looks at Mycroft. His older brother looks somewhat relieved that Sherlock opened his eyes and was still conscious.
"It'll more than that to shut me up, Myc." Sherlock says shooting a small smile at his brother. Mycroft's eyes soften a bit and Sherlock can tell he's trying to smile through the gag.
Then the leader comes out of Greg's office.
"They want to negotiate." He says.
"I would if I were you. It would be the best for everyone to get out of here alive." Donavon says daring to speak.
"I agreed to send the uniforms out and in exchange, they send in a doctor for Mr. Holmes and…Mr. Holmes." The leader says.
The man named Jenkins uncuffs the 3 uniformed cops and herds them to the door. He unchains it and they uniforms are shoved out. Then a short man everyone recognized walked in wearing his long, white hospital issued coat with Watson stitched over the right breast. Sherlock curses under his breath.
Jenkins chains the door back and pats down John for any weapons. Once he was cleared, the leader stepped up to him.
"Hello, Dr. Watson." The leader says.
"Good evening to you. Since you know my name, would you mind telling me yours?" John asks calmly.
"Just call me Joseph." The leader says.
"I'm just assuming that Joseph is not your real name. Now, what can a simple doctor as I do for you?" John asks keeping his eyes on Joseph. It was so hard not looking towards Sherlock but if all went well for the plan John had, these men would be dead or in cuffs.
"We have a couple injured, Doc, that need to be looked over." Joseph says. He waves between Mycroft and Sherlock.
"And who are these injured gentlemen?" John says eyeing Sherlock a tad longer than necessary before looking over Mycroft.
"You don't recognize the famous Sherlock Holmes? He is all over the internet and papers!" The 3rd man says.
"Really? Not one for the internet. And the papers? I just read the sports section." John says.
At this time, Greg, Sherlock, Mycroft, Donavon, and Anderson caught onto John's plan. He didn't want his identity known in case the men knew of Sherlock's partner in crime solving.
"Wait, Sherlock had a partner named John Watson!" Jenkins says. The leader looks at John.
"Oh yes, John. He happens to be my cousin on my father's side. Black sheep of the family, I'm afraid." John says saying the first thing to come to mind. He made sure he kept his face calm.
"What is your name, Doc?" Joseph asks looking at John suspiciously.
"Harry Watson." John says.
"Well, Dr. Watson, if you would make sure our hostages are taken care of then we won't have problem." Joseph says.
"I will need a first aid kit." John says rolling up the sleeves of his lab coat and walking over to Mycroft. "Do you mind if I remove this gag?"
Joseph waves so John unties the gag tied around Mycroft's mouth and tosses it to the floor.
"Now, can you tell me your name, sir?" John asks looking over the cut above Mycroft's eyebrow.
"Mycroft Holmes."
"Well, Mr. Holmes, I am Dr. Watson. Do you feel any dizziness, nausea, or anything of the sort?" John asks. Jenkins then hands a first aid kit to John. He pulls a light pen from his pocket and shines it in Mycroft's eyes.
"No." Mycroft answers.
"Your pupils are reactive and their doesn't seem to be any signs of a concussion. Now, I'm going to clean it with an alcohol pad and it will sting a bit." John says finding the pad and cleaning the wound as gently as he could. Mycroft flinched.
Sherlock watched as his lover took care of his brother and couldn't help but think how much he loved John in doctor mode.
Once John was done, he cleaned the arm wound, which was just a bullet graze, and wrapped some gauze around it. He then took the kit and walked over to Sherlock.
"Can you tell me your name?" John asks looking at Sherlock with worry.
"Sherlock Holmes but my real name is William Scott Holmes." Sherlock says his eyes burning into John's.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, can you tell me if you're dizzy or anything I asked to other Holmes?" John asks gently touching to temple wound.
"My vision is a bit blurry, Dr. Watson." Sherlock says flinching at the contact.
"You may have a mild concussion, Mr. Holmes. I'm going to clean the wound. It'll sting." John says. He starts cleaning the wound and once he's done, all he wants to do is kiss his lover. He can't so he steps back.
"Ok, Doc, sorry to do this but we'll have to cuff you like the others." Joseph says.
"Ok." John says.
Jenkins walks towards him and then John puts part of his plan in action. He grabs Jenkins wrist and it snaps and the man screams in pain. John ran and tackled Joseph to the floor and wrestled for the gun. Then a shot went off and John froze. Then he felt a gun pressed to the back of his head.
"Let go, Dr. Watson, and stand up slowly." The 3rd man says.
John does as he's told. Then he's being cuffed and is facing an angry Joseph.
"That will cost you, Doc." Joseph says placing the gun to John's head.
"No!" Sherlock shouts before he could stop himself.
"Sherlock…"John says thought gritted teeth.
"Your names not Harry is it? You're Sherlock's partner John." Joseph says grinning evilly. John says nothing but Sherlock looks guilty for his outburst.
Joseph moves the gun, much to Sherlock's relief, and pulls a chair beside Mycroft and shoves John into it.
"Oh, how the tables are turning. New plan gentlemen, and lady!" Joseph says happily.
"What the new plan, boss?" Jenkins says holding his broken wrist at his chest.
"You'll see. Now, Mr. Holmes, tell me and be truthful when I ask this or their will be consequences, does John happen to be your husband?" Joseph says noting the matching rings they wore.
"Yes." Sherlock says after a moment of hesitation. Joseph shot Mycroft in the shoulder. Sherlock froze as his brother screamed in pain.
"He was telling the truth damn it!" Greg shouts angrily. He looks over at his husband and watches as Mycroft starts to cry from the pain. Blood is blossoming fast on his white shirt and through his waistcoat.
"He didn't answer fast enough." Joseph says shrugging.
"Mycroft! Open your eyes! Stay conscious or you might not wake up!" John shouts in his future brother-in-law's ear. Mycroft opens his eyes slowly and looks at Greg.
"Gregory…" He whispers his voice full of pain. Then he slumps over and out of his chair.
"Mycroft!" Greg shouts. He jumps up and slides to his knees beside his husband. Joseph allows it. "Myc, don't die on me! That's a command!"
Greg lets loose tears as he places his forehead against Mycroft's. He can feel as Mycroft breaths but it's weak. Sherlock, Donavon, and Anderson sit frozen. Anderson and Donavon are shocked but Sherlock is a mix between shock and fury as he watches his brother bleed out his life.
"I will do anything if you let John and Greg take my brother out of here." Sherlock says never taking his eyes off Mycroft's still form.
"Well he is useless dying. Why not? Woman, you and Scruffy take him out of here." Joseph says addressing Donavon and Anderson. Jenkins trains a gun at Sherlock while the 3rd man uncuffs the two.
Donavon and Anderson lift Mycroft as gentle as possible and leave after Joseph unchains the door. Once their gone, Joseph re chains the door. Sherlock stares at the blood, Mycroft's blood, while Greg stays on his knees.
"Now, fail to answer me fast enough, the next bullet goes for Dr. Watson." Joseph says.
"You'll never make it out alive if I find out you murdered my husband." Greg says furious as he stands and faces Joseph. The man just smiles and Sherlock watches as Greg shakes with suppressed anger.
"You will be no good to Mycroft dead, Greg." John says.
"He's right. It just wouldn't be right for Mr. Holmes here to die and leave his husband a widower." Joseph says sarcastically. He then shoves Greg into the chair beside Sherlock.
"What now?" John asks.
"If you expect this imbecile to answer your question, John, then I may just have to revise my opinion of you. Maybe it is just your looks that I'm marrying for." Sherlock says. Then he snaps close his mouth realizing what he said.
"Oh, so Dr. Watson is not your husband then? You lied to me, Mr. Holmes, and I'm disappointed in you." Joseph says with a not-so-good grin. He tossed his gun from one hand to the other and back. "Lying has consequences."
With that, he pointed to gun at John's shoulder, the one injured in Afghanistan. John saw those memories flash before him rapidly. The men dying around him. Bombs exploding and shaking the ground beneath their feet. Screams of those dying. Painful last moments of the soldiers Captain John H. Watson Army Doctor was unable to save. He could still hear the whooshing of bullets as they rained down around him. He could feel his gun in hand, the cold handle comforting him as he shot those who tried to kill him and his company.
Sherlock watched helplessly as John's eyes clouded over as he was dragged in the memories of war.
"You kill him and I'll kill you." Greg growls.
"Please don't kill him." Sherlock whispers looking at John who was trapped in those memories still. It worried Sherlock and when Greg saw John's eyes, he grew worried, too.
"You lied to me, Mr. Holmes. I do not take kindly to be lied to." Joseph says shrugging.
John watched as his friends were shot down during the war and he could do nothing to stop it even with his training. Then, he blinked and shoved those memories away and looked around the room. Joseph was looking at Sherlock and the other men were at the windows keeping a look outside.
"Then shoot me! I was the one who lied to you not John!" Sherlock shouts.
"Sherlock!" Greg shouts indignantly. Joseph turns and faces Sherlock.
With Joseph's back turned, John slips on of Sherlock's picks from where it was taped to the edge of his wrist.
'Good thing they only checked me for a gun.' John thinks with a smug smile. Then he gets it and starts to pick the lock slowly and quietly.
"Now, Jenkins, I want you to call those cops outside and have them have a black car waiting for us. We are taking Mr. Holmes, Detective Inspector Holmes, and Dr. Watson on a little trip." Joseph says. Jenkins does as instructed.
"Can't stick with one plan of action, can we? And I have no intention of going anywhere with you." Sherlock says.
"You have no choice." Joseph says pulling John up by his shoulder causing the doctor to drop the lock pick. John swore. "You will come with me. You will do as I say. Or, Dr. Watson will die. Simple."
"Do has he says, Sherlock." John finds himself saying.
"Good choice, Doc." Joseph says.
Jenkins leaves Greg's office.
"The car will be outside within 10 minutes." He says.
"Good. Jenkins, you are in charge of handling Detective Inspector Holmes. Maxwell, you will handle Mr. Holmes. I will be handling the good doctor. And do be on your best behaviors, gentlemen. I will certainly not hesitate to shoot." Joseph says.
The men nods and grabs both Greg and Sherlock and place them between them with guns trained on their sides. Joseph unchains the door and they walk outside with their hostages. Joseph has hold around John's waist and the gun at his temple as they walk out. Camera crews are flashing pictures and filming and Joseph flashes them a grin before walking over to the black car. Jenkins and Maxwell shove Greg and Sherlock in between them in the backseat and slam close the doors.
"Now, anyone attempts to follow us, I will kill them all and I know London will grieve over the loss of Sherlock Holmes and Detective Inspector Holmes. Maybe even over this man. Either way, good day." Joseph says as he shoves John in the door and slides in after him. Joseph starts the car and speeds away from New Scotland Yard.
"You are incompetent, Joseph. I'll bet you're taking us to the nearest warehouse to kill us. Or maybe you're more of the throwing us into the Thames criminal. You could even be stupid enough and try to…"
"Shut up, Mr. Holmes, or I have my men gag you!" Joseph interrupts.
"Oh, so I caught onto your plan. So typical to use a warehouse of all places for a place to murder hostages." Sherlock says. John glares at him through the rearview mirror.
"Gag him, Maxwell." Joseph says.
"I will assure you that is not…mmph!" Maxwell cut Sherlock off by tying a piece of fabric across his mouth effectively silencing him as he tried to keep talking. He glared at Joseph. If looks could kill, Joseph would be dead ten times over.
"Anyone else have something to say? No? Ok then. We'll be at our destination in about an hour or so." Joseph says.
For the next hour, Joseph drove through the streets of London then finally outside of the more populated areas where they went to a warehouse that seemed abandoned.
'Of course.' Sherlock thinks rolling his eyes. 'Why can't criminals be creative anymore?'
They were led into the building and unceremoniously shoved to the cold, damp floor. The idiots, as Sherlock called them silently, locked the doors and pulled most likely empty crates for seats.
"What's the plan, boss? We can't keep them forever." Jenkins says.
"Ransom. If the DI's husband survives, Mr. British Government will pay handsomely for him. Might even get something for his brother, too." Joseph says.
"What about John?" Greg asks tentatively.
"Oh, Dr. Watson's not leaving here alive, I'm afraid. I'm going to kill him for my brother and then me and my crew will be off and you'll never see us again." Joseph says.
Sherlock tries to shout at him angrily.
'No one is going to kill my John!' He thinks.
"Problem, Mr. Holmes? You have anything to say, Dr. Watson?" Joseph asks.
"Release them and you can do whatever you want to me and I won't fight you." John says. Sherlock's eyes widen and tries to protest through his gag. Greg is silent but he's looking at John like he'd lost his mind.
"Anything? Hmm, that is a tempting offer, Doctor. No deal, though. Money from the other Holmes will be just fine for me." Joseph says.
"You won't get any money while Mycroft's in the hospital after you shot him." John points out.
"True. Detective Inspector Holmes, is there someone I can call and do this? Perhaps one of your officers?" Joseph asks.
'He's really quite the idiot. Can't even keep one plan and carry it out. God, he's has less brains than Anderson!' Sherlock thinks.
"Sergeant Donavon. Her number is in my phone in the left pocket of my jacket." Greg says. Joseph retrieves it and flips it open. He kneels in front of the DI and calls Donavon and places the phone on speaker.
"Holmes! Are you alright? Greg?" Donavon's worried voice says.
"How is Mycroft? Is he still alive?" Greg asks glaring at Joseph. His eyes burned with all the things he would do to him once the cuffs was gone if Donavon happens to say no.
"He's in surgery. It looks good, boss." Donavon says.
"Detective Inspector, I suggest you have her find someone to get, let's say 300,000 pounds, for both yourself and Mr. Holmes. And they are to wait for a text from me informing the drop off and exchanging of the hostages." Joseph says. Greg swallows nervously. He knew some of Mycroft's people could get it pretty easily but Greg was worried because John will not be included in the ransom. His friend was facing death again. John couldn't catch a break.
"You heard him, Donavon. Contact Athena and tell her the situation and she can get the money. She should be at the hospital with Mycroft at the moment." Greg says.
"Y-yes, sir. Take care of yourself." Donavon says.
"Sure I will." Greg says. Joseph hangs up.
"We'll be set in no time, boys!" Joseph says.
"Why not give up the doctor, too? I bet they would've paid for him, too." Jenkins says.
"He killed my brother, remember? He doesn't deserve to live." Joseph growls.
It went silent in the warehouse except for the almost inaudible shouts that were muffled coming from Sherlock. He was very angry and was fighting the cuffs furiously.
"Sherlock, you need to stop. They are not going to come off and all you are doing is making your wrists raw and bleeding." John says taking on the tone he reserved for his clinic patients. Sherlock looked at John and stopped his struggling.
"Got your pet trained, Doctor?" Joseph asks with a cruel smile.
"He's not a pet! I swear to God if I wasn't cuffed, you wouldn't be able to move without intense pain." John growls menacingly. Sherlock smiles as he watches Maxwell and Jenkins cringe at his tone. Joseph seemed unaffected by the tone.
"Now, now, Dr. Watson. You wouldn't want anything to befall Mr. Holmes now would you?" Joseph asks walking to stand by Sherlock. He grabbed a hand full of dark curls and pulled the consulting detective to his knees. Joseph placed the gun to the back of Sherlock's skull.
"You pull that trigger and nothing on this planet will stop me from hunting you down and killing you slowly and painfully. And believe me when I say I killed people for a living and I have no problem with doing it again." John says as Captain Watson. His voice was dangerously low and dark. Greg looked at the usually kind and gentle man with a look only to be described as fear and knowing for a fact that what he said was a promise.
John felt satisfied when the other men looked at each other with fear. Joseph lowered his gun but his face remained smug but his eyes betrayed the fear he felt.
"I'm going to text that officer. Watch them." Joseph orders. Then he practically runs out of the warehouse.
"This would be your chance to make things easier on yourselves." Greg says.
"He'll…he'll kill us!" Jenkins says fearfully looking at the warehouse doors.
"Right now, you two face charges of kidnapping, attempted murder, treason against England for shooting someone who works for the Government," Maybe that was a lie. Mycroft might actually get that to stick though. "And assault with a deadly weapon. You could be in prison for the rest of your lives. Is that man worth all that? If you help us, I'll make sure your sentence will be short." Greg says in an attempt to reason and negotiate with their captors.
"Don't listen to him! He's lying!" Maxwell says.
"I'm a DI. I can make sure your sentence will be cut down and the charge or treason and attempted murder will be dropped. You just have to help us." Greg says.
"It would be in your best interest to listen to him. You don't and he kills me, that would be murder added to your already list of charges." John says.
"What if we fail, huh? Then he murders you, the DI, Mr. Holmes, and us. I'm not willing to die today." Maxwell says.
While they were talking, Sherlock managed to get out of his cuffs without anyone noticing. He remained still after they were off.
"I'm promising a short sentence for the both of you if you help us. You shouldn't pass it up." Greg says.
"They should, Detective Inspector Holmes." All eyes go to the door and see Joseph standing there.
"Boss…! We weren't going to take the deal, I swear!" Jenkins says.
"I believe you, Jenkins." Joseph says smiling. Then he raises his gun and fires. A scream of pain rings through the warehouse and then a thud. Sherlock closed his eyes in fear it was John who was shot.
"You didn't have to kill him!" John shouts.
Sherlock opens his eyes in relief and turns to see Greg staring at the body. The man, Jenkins, was lying on the cold floor and bleeding out. From Sherlock's point of view, he could tell the man was dead.
"Well, no, I didn't, but this way he won't be tempted to help you. Pity, though. He was such a good man. Always listened to orders." Joseph says not sounding too sincere or sorry for shooting the younger man.
"What now?" John asks.
The smile Joseph sends down to John makes said doctor's skin crawl. That smile he has seen on the enemies in Afghanistan when they thought they had John trapped and was about to kill him easily. Those enemies, however, found out that wasn't the case. Now, John could do nothing but to accept death. He sent a look to Sherlock and hoped it portrayed everything he felt for the consulting detective. Sherlock realized what was about to happen the second before John was pulled up to his knees. Both Greg and Sherlock watched in horror as John straightened and smoothed his face of all expression. Then the gun was placed to the back of John's skull.
Then, Sherlock remembered he was free and was about to jump up and race to John when the gunshot rang out. He closed his eyes and something like a sob broke free through his gag. Then he heard scuffling around him but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.
"Sherlock, open those damn pretty eyes of yours!"
Sherlock's eyes flew open and saw John smiling at him. Joseph was lying behind him with a bullet hole in his forehead. Sherlock jumped up and ran to John. He picked the cuffs with the picks that were in his coat and threw himself at John as soon as they were gone. John held him close and the sobs of relief let free. Then the gag was removed and Sherlock attacked John's lips with his own frantically. John answered the kiss enthusiastically.
"That was a good choice." Sherlock heard Greg say. He let go of John and looked over to see Greg handcuff the last remaining man.
"Was you serious about the deal?" Maxwell asks as he allows himself to be cuffed.
"Yes." Greg says.
Sherlock got off of John and helped his fiancée up.
"You two alright?" Greg asks looking at John and Sherlock. They nod and walk out of the warehouse with Greg leading Maxwell.
No one was surprised to see some of NSY and Mycroft's men waiting outside. The prisoner was handed over to Detective Inspector Dimmick. A medic looked over the three before saying they were fine. Then the three got into the car that brought them there and drove to the hospital to see Mycroft.
When they arrived, Athena was waiting. She glanced up from her phone.
"Room 23. It's a private room and he has done nothing but ask about the three of you." She says before going back to her phone.
Greg, Sherlock, and John make their way to Mycroft's room where a doctor was talking to him and Mycroft was not happy. His arm was in a sling.
"I will not take those drugs. They slow my brain and I will not have that!" John and Greg shared a glance and smiled at the fact Mycroft sounded a whole lot like Sherlock. "Now, I suggest you find something more suitable or I will have your job!" Mycroft says calmly while glaring at the doctor. The doctor didn't seem fazed at all.
"It is in your best interest, Mr. Holmes. Having a bullet wound is no small matter. It will be painful especially when you have to partake in therapy." The doctor says.
"I think that's quite enough, Doctor. I will take over." John says stepping into the room. Both the doctor and Mycroft turns to face him. Then Greg and Sherlock step in.
"Gregory! Sherly! John! Oh how good it is to see you alive!" Mycroft says brightening. Greg walks over to him sits by him. He places a chaste, but loving, kiss to Mycroft's lips.
"Of course we are!" Sherlock says smiling at his brother.
"Who are you? I don't let my patients be taken care of by visitors." The doctor says glaring at John.
"I am Dr. John Watson and Mycroft's attending doctor." John says.
"Can't you see he's a doctor? He's wearing a white lab coat like yours with his name patched on it! How daft are you?" Mycroft says surprising everyone.
"Fine, Dr. Watson. Maybe you can convince him to take his meds and obey doctor orders!" The doctor says frustrated. He shoves a prescription pad, a pen, and a small cup holding a few pills into John's arms and stalks out.
"You're worse than Sherlock, Mycroft." John says walking over to the side of the bed that Greg was occupying. He sits the items on the small bedside table and hands the cup to Mycroft. He then pours a glass of water from the pitcher sitting there. "Now, you will take those pills and rest or I will sedate you and administrate the drugs through your IV and trust me when I say that they will be worse and fast acting like that. The pills help with the pain and will not slow that genius brain, I promise."
Mycroft looks at the pills and back to John.
"I do not need them." He says.
"I warn you, Mycroft Holmes, that I was quite serious about sedating you. And as your doctor, I recommend you do as I say." John warns.
"You are not my attending doctor, John." Mycroft says.
"Really? I suggest you look at your records. I am, in fact, listed as your doctor." John says smugly.
"You can't. Only I can change those records!" Mycroft says surprised.
"I have my ways, Mycroft. I may not be a genius at deduction like Sherlock or a Government Official like yourself, but I am quite intelligent and connected like you wouldn't believe." John says.
To say that the three Holmes's in the room was shocked and surprised would be an understatement. Greg was also quite impressed by his friend. Mycroft had no clue what to say and Sherlock was a mixed between impressed, shocked, amused, and maybe a little aroused.
"I have my eyes on you, John. Closely after this, mind you." Mycroft says swallowing the pills and taking the water John offered him.
"Oh, I know. My connections always inform me when I am being followed or watched by your men. How do you think I avoid them?" John asks smiling at his future brother-in-law. The grin could be only described as you-will-never-know grin with a hint of smugness from earlier.
"You surprise me once again, John." Mycroft says after drinking the water. He sounded impressed and John counted that as a victory.
"And me." Sherlock says smiling fondly at his doctor.
"Not marrying for my looks, then? I do remember you saying that back in the warehouse, Sherlock." John says.
"I think I'm marrying you for that wonderful devious brain you seem to have hidden under the sweet, kind doctor and tough, ex-military Captain." Sherlock says bringing John into his arms.
"I do believe my teeth will rot from this sweetness." Greg says smiling.
Everyone in the room laughed and it was joyous.
Greg Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson basked in the fact that they all were alive and life would be continuing.