Hello! Again, I'd love help from anyone available to help with my atrocious grammar and spelling mistakes. Please leave reviews! I would really like any constructive criticism on my writing and ways to improve as this is my first attempt I still have a long way to grow.
He'd ignored the doctors requests and changed out of the hospital gown. There was no way he'd wear such an undignified piece of cloth and have his backside exposed. Athena had brought him his softest white cashmere sweatshirt and a lose pair of loungewear pants that were made out of a cotton blend. He much preferred his slacks but it would press into his stomach and that wouldn't have done him any good today. His throat burned, raw from having his stomach pumped after arriving at the hospital late last night. Athena walked into the private room holding a stack of paperwork. She ignored any niceties of the situation having long learned by now that Mycroft didn't care for concerns of his well-being. The best way to take care of his health was to get the job done faster so that he could rest. Mycroft didn't get much sleep when there was things unresolved. "Did you bring the files?" He looked up at her from his laptop. "Yes, it's all here." He gave an absent nod as he returned to his laptop screen. He had been searching Veronica Follies' medical records, who she was affiliated with, her past lovers criminal histories and anything else he could find on the 35 year old performer. She knew I was poisoned before even I did. This unnerving fact was only shared with his assistant, being withheld from any records on the event. Athena went to speak again but Mycroft was six steps ahead of her. His blasé, measured words cut ahead answering the unasked question. "Yes, I do suppose we should call Sherlock."
Athena greeted the detective and doctor with a smile. "Mycroft will be with you in a few moments." They had arrived sooner than projected. She mentally cursed at her mistake, Mycroft would not be pleased with the miscalculation. Two guards stood outside the hospital room door, blocking any entrance. Sherlock stole a glance through the little door window. He never thought he'd see the day where his older brother would have looked almost human sitting in the hospital bed exhausted as the doctor started taking a blood sample. Upon realization of the younger Holmes's gaze, the guard moved his body to the center, blocking the entire view. "He was poisoned late last night whilst attending an important dinner party. Here is all the information we can release to you at this time is in this." She handed Sherlock a heavy manilla folder which was quickly passed off to John. Athena gave him a pointed look "I trust you both understand the matters require total confidentiality." "Of course. Right Sherlock?" John looked to his side only to find the cunning man had leapt to dismantle the guards and slip past them. "Sherlock!" John shouted angrily as he watched the scene unfold. Why couldn't he just wait a few minutes was beyond John.
"How good of you to join me, brother mine." The banter ended with a grimace as the doctor pulled a needle out of his skin. The elder Holmes carefully rolled down his sleeves. "A bit of an odd dieting choice to get your stomach pumped, Mycroft." Sherlock carefully reached into the doctors bottom coat pocket as he exited, taking a vile of blood and carefully tucking it away. "Perhaps it'll be the most effective one yet!" Sherlock mocked. Athena quietly shut the door behind John as he entered, leaving the three some privacy as she fetched more security. "I saw that, Sherlock." "Saw what?" John looked between the two, confused as ever. "Never mind that John…" Sherlock paused to give his brother a quick look over. bloodshot eyes. hadn't slept much more than a few hours and had been straining them looking on a computer. His blood a dark shade of red indicating it was Deoxygenated. Poisoned through indigestion. Toxin had entered his bloodstream 3 hours ago. poisoned at the very start of the event. It took an hour for the effects to take full affect. "Sherlock, I need your assistance."Mycroft chose his words carefully but knew no matter how he said it he was undeniably feeding Sherlocks ego."Asking to be my client, Mycroft? Isn't that a bit beneath you." Sherlock knew his older brother had everything pigeon-holed in his mind and could handle anything out in an instant. He continued to press for the why. "I thought you were the smart one." "I AM." Mycroft snapped. Taking purposed breath he regained his own fortitude. "but I've been advised to keep my distance from the case." His throat burned with the words. "I'm asking for your help sherlock, not your arrogance." "Well" Sherlock gave a deliberate pause, giving the room a once over "I will save you, dear Mycroft, from the big scary bad guys!" Mycroft kept from rolling his eyes at Sherlocks childish ways. "Hope you um…get better soon." John stumbled with the words, feeling concerned for Mycroft felt strange. "I will, John." Mycroft gave a small smile. John awkwardly exited the room after sherlock. "Oh- and it was Aconitum." Sherlock popped back in, his voice surprising Mycroft. He carelessly tossed the vile of blood at Mycroft's bed. "That grossly overpaid doctor will tell you that in a few hours though. Really you should hire better than that Mycroft…" His voice trailed behind him and down the hall becoming more and more faith. Athena looked out the window "They are leaving now, sir." Mycroft smirked to himself, opening his laptop back up to look at Veronica Follies information once more.
"I did not poison Mr. Holmes" the dark haired woman repeated for the third time. Veronica Follies had been detained for the attempted murder of Mycroft Holmes. "You were serving Mr. Holmes that night weren't you? You had direct access to his food." The redheaded man leaned forward. The fluorescent light above hummed, casting light down the mans face at such an angle that it gave him all the more sinister of appearance. She felt the edge of panic creep up the back of her throat. "Yes, I did serve Mr. Holmes last night. I did not however poison him." Her voice surprised her, coming out even and steady. The bald man gave Veronica an incredulous look before shuffling through the stack of papers. The only metal door to the room opened. Sherlock and John walked in the small detainee room interrupting whatever the blonde was about to ask. "I'll take it from here." The two investigators rolled their eyes but were quick to exit, both needing coffee and bathroom breaks. They didn't question his presence. That's Odd Sherlock thought. He expected resistance. If Mycroft was told not to be on the case, why would they let Sherlock. He broke from this thought when he heard John whispering "What now..?" "Get all the staff being detained to meet me in the hall." "What?" "John I don't have time for this. I need them in the hall now." "Right, well you heard him" John lead Veronica out to the hall before quickly fetching the others.
Sherlock paced. "No. No. No." He pointed from person to person, dismissing them in a hurried rush. "You uh..you can leave now." John looked apologetic at them all as they exited the hall. Some had broken into tears at Sherlocks deductions. Sherlock looked to the last of the line, two blondes standing side by side. Similar mentonian and ear factions, not to mention tonality of hair. Family members. Sisters. Two year age gap. Lived together. Both were unaware of the other sleeping with the sous chef. The older blonde let out a loud shriek as Sherlock forcibly grabbed her hands from her pocket. "Sherlock-" John stepped forward, ready to intervene. Sherlock shot him a look that said "Not now John." Veronica watched the strange man as he sniffed the other waitress's hands. What a weirdo. The weirdo moved in front of Veronica. Her natural hair color was showing ever so slightly at the roots but the rest of her dark brown color was kept fresh. had it done professionally every two weeks. financially stable. Black heels but not uniform being 8 centimeters higher than the rest of the servers. "Your name is Veronica Follies, although that's not your real last name. It's a stage name. You are a stripper at a night club in-" "Burlesque Dancer." She interjected. Sherlock narrowed his eyes. Confident and took pride in her work. "Stripper…burlesque dancer…what does it matter. It's all the same." annoyance was evident in his tone. "You entertain wealthy men and women at Annabel's, a private membership nightclub. You are attracted to powerful men…and sometimes women. You are emotional, bossy, love to be the center of attention and often indulge in your love for desserts and expensive handbags. You were called last notice to fill in the position of a missing server." Sherlock gauged her reactions. He'd realized she was the server who brought Mycroft his meals that night. She didn't feel uncomfortable with the attention, she was used to being watched. It was after all part of her job and he was right, she enjoyed it. How this complete stranger had known so much though..that was beyond her comfort zone. He is part of the government though..he's trained for this type of thing…she thought to herself, wrongly assuming Sherlocks career. "I prefer the term demanding." She stood up taller. "but yes, that is…it's all" She stopped mid sentence from telling him it was all right..so scarily accurate, she had the feeling he'd get satisfaction from being so correct. "Yes….I was called in to take place of another girl." Sherlock watched her closely for a moment more before dismissing her and the two blondes.
In the cab John finally settled for a moment. The events had all strung together in a hurried rush from one place to the next since Sherlock had woken him late into the night. He felt a twist of worry grow in the pit of his stomach throughout the day for Sherlock. Despite their animosity towards one another John wanted to believe the Holmes brothers cared for one another…albeit they had a twisted, emotionally stunted way of showing it. Reeling through the events, he frowned in confusion at little details he couldn't place comprehension behind. "Sherlock why did you need to see her hands?" "Whoever poisoned Mycroft would've needed to wear gloves when handling the poison. Her hands would've smelt of leather or rubber…which they didn't. She didn't wash them after using the restroom though. Digusting." John laughed "Well that's what you get for sniffing hands." Sherlock joined John in the outburst of giggles. It was quite absurd. "and…the…other..one?" John asked between laughs. "Poisoning requires premeditation, she was called last minute." "What if it was planned to look like that?" "No. Her hair wasn't touched up. A woman like her would've been prepared to look her best at an event like that." The cab pulled up to their apartment at 221B Baker St. "Put on a pot of tea Miss Hudson! We've got a new case." Sherlock shouted excitedly as he climbed up the stairs. Sherlock found his chair and delved into the folder Athena had given them. The new information sent his mind racing with possibilities.