I've lost a grip on where I started from
I wish I'd thought ahead and left a few crumbs
I'm on the hunt for who I've not yet become
But I'd settle for little equilibrium
There is a war inside my heart gone silent
Both sides dissatisfied and somewhat violent
The issue I have now begun to see
I am the only lonely casualty
This is not the end though
It was eleven, she had about four hours minimum to do this.
She hated doing this, absolutely utterly hated doing this. But, if she was to get anywhere, she needed Lestrade out of it. She should have known it would be too good to be true. He was the law, and she was willing to break it, and she couldn't have him getting involved. She hadn't been surprised when she saw him on the train, trying so hard not to be seen by her, and she hadn't been surprised when he wanted to call John.
But, she had watched him carefully during the four hour journey, and somehow she just knew he wasn't going to let this go. He wasn't going to help her, and he was going to make sure she stayed away from trouble. She couldn't let that happen. And part of her knew it was going to happen, so she was prepared.
John had two canes, which fortunately he never used anymore, and so sneaking out the collapsible one from the closet had been pretty easy. Then, she had to lead him away from a crowded area, and to her good fortune, one of her contacts texted at the right moment. So she led him away from the crowded station and down the streets until she found an empty alley. She was even luckier when he turned his back to call John, and she took out the cane.
"I'm really sorry about this Inspector." She told him, "Truly."
Then just as he turned back to her, she swung and hit hard. He was down on the ground, not moving, and she made sure he was breathing before taking off. Then she started her search. Her contact had had sent her Walker's last known location, and when she arrived, he was still there. On a bench on one side of the road, he was smoking a cigarette and looking at his phone. Etheldrea feigned looking at her phone while she rested against the wall.
Her phone had gone off a few times, both from Lestrade and then John and she was sure there was an angry voice mail from them both. But, it didn't seem like they had contacted Mycroft, so she didn't answer. Lestrade had been wrong, she did have a plan, one that she had hoped he'd be part of. She'd corner Walker, take him down, and then contact police. She, Sherlock, and John had done it all the time. Simple.
For the next three hours she followed after Walker, staying sometimes a block behind him, but she blended in well and hadn't been caught yet. By two she followed him to Portobello Beach and he sat outside a little café. Quickly she sat down at a table and picked up a menu. She watched him over the top of it, and waited for him to leave. A waitress came by and Etheldrea ordered a coffee, and a small sandwich that she barely touched.
She sat there for an hour, waiting and waiting. She needed him in a quiet area where no one could get in the way. Eventually, he paid for his meal, and then started walking away. Etheldrea quickly followed suit, staying twenty paces away and keeping her hands in her pockets and head down.
She followed him for three blocks, and then she began to notice there were less people around. Another four blocks later, there was even less. Then finally there was no one as he started walking towards the beach. It was cold, and the air had a strong sense of rain, so no one would be at the beach of course. But, Etheldrea had a nagging feeling. Almost like he was leading.
He made a right on to a pier, and Etheldrea kept walking. A minute later, she turned her head back one and saw that Walker was now doing the same as her. Following behind at twenty paces, hands in his pockets and head down. She crossed over to the other side of the street, and then so did he.
He had been leading her, and she had been stupid enough to fall for it. Every intersection she passed was devoid of people, and she tried turning down streets to find a busier road, but it seemed her luck was gone. It wasn't until she could hear Walkers footsteps that she started running.
She made a right, and then another at the next street, and then left at the next. Walker ran after, almost matching her pace. She kept running towards the main roads, hoping to find someone to help her. Before she was halfway down the path, a yank on her messenger bag threw her back and towards the ground. She was stopped by a rough hand shoving her up against a house wall by her neck.
Hot and nasty, Walker breathed, "What do you think you're doing, following me?"
Etheldrea glared, "That's my business."
The pressure on her throat increased, ""Yeah, and I seem to be part of it. So I'll ask again-"
He pulled out a pocket knife and held it against her cheek, "What. Are. You. Doing?"
Etheldrea felt the blade biting into her skin. Then there was a small, hot, line going down. She was bleeding no doubt, and would be bleeding more if she didn't get out of there fast. If she timed this right, a kick to the knee cap to stun him, another kick high to distract, and a punch to the chin at the same time. She'd get another cut on the cheek, but it was a small price to pay. She did just that, and felt the blade swipe across instead of down but she paid it no mind. She took off again and raced as far away as she could.
It didn't matter. Walker was after her, and this time he reached her jacket. Before he asked his question again, he dug the blade down her back, splitting the jacket and shirt, and leaving a nasty cut. It wasn't enough to incapacitate her though, but it hurt like hell.
"You worked for Moriarty!" she yelled.
"I knew I recognized you. The fake detective's daughter. What? Daddy is gone now so you have to chase the bad guys?"
He cut across her left shoulder, "You should've stuck to your dolls, Little Girl."
She rounded on him and punched, "I never played with dolls."
Her clothes felt wet and sticky, and running was becoming so tiresome. No wonder Walker was catching up to her so fast. She needed help NOW. A block away, she turned between some houses and pulled out her phone, still running. She typed in the number and it picked up before the first ring.
"Etheldrea, where the hell are you?"
"Don't yell at me yet, Inspector. I may have misjudged my situation completely. I'm near the intersection John Street and Elcho Terrance, heading North West. Being chased."
She looked back and saw Walker coming up, and she tried running faster.
"Hurry!"
Etheldrea hung up and focused on running ahead. There was a three way intersection coming up, and her best bet was running across and jumping a fence. Why the hell was there no one around? As she crossed the road, Walker was behind her and grabbed anything he could. One hand grabbed her scarf, and she stopped short as he pulled and choked her.
She struggled to get out of it, and couldn't breathe. Then, there was sharp pain in her arm as the knife he had cut through, reaching from her wrist to her elbow. Finally, her scarf loosened and came off. She ran, leaving it in his hands.
The fence was three feet taller than her, and she barely had the strength to climb it. When she was finally over, falling to the ground, Walker was there too. He was on her, pinning her hands and feet. He held the pocket knife above her and grinned down.
"Say hi to your dad for me."
She closed her eyes and turned her head, and then felt the knife enter her abdomen. At the same time, she felt Walker get off. The pain was intense, and she couldn't see straight. Black dots filled her vision. When she turned to look for Walker, she saw someone on top of him. Someone with dark hair, and a long coat.
She blinked her eyes, trying to focus but unable to. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, and before she could really register what she was seeing, she blinked and they were gone. Now, someone was patting her cheek, and saying her name.
"Etheldrea, please, please, wake up. Etheldrea!"
Looking up, she saw Lestrade. He looked concerned but relieved when he saw her eyes open. There was a pressure on her stomach and when she looked towards the appendage, she saw John pressing his hand there.
"The ambulance is on its way." Lestrade said, "Just hang on, keep your eyes open."
"She's awake?" John asked.
"Yeah. Drea, can you hear me?"
She mumbled, "You were-"
She coughed.
"I was right, I know, I know." He said, "I told you not to go-"
"-an idiot. Had him. Got away."
She didn't hear what he said next, already unconscious.
When Lestrade opened his eyes, Etheldrea was gone. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his head. Etheldrea was much stronger than she looked. Glancing down, he found his phone, and immediately called John.
"John?"
"Yeah Greg?"
"Do you know what Etheldrea's doing?"
"It's her birthday; she always does something like this on her birthday."
"I know, but do you know what's she's doing, where she's going?"
"Yeah, it's just a day trip. She'll be back by-"
"It's not just that. She's chasing a criminal."
"She's what?"
"She's been planning this for months. She found a hit man, someone who worked for Moriarty. She's going after him."
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know. She hit me with something before taking off. I just woke up."
"Alright, I'm coming. I'll call you when I get there."
They hung up, and Lestrade tried Etheldrea next. It rung and rung, and finally gave her voice mail. He tried her three more times before knowing she wouldn't answer, and then he tried Mycroft. But, neither Holmes was answering. He kicked the wall in frustration, and then decided to start walking around. Now and then he'd stop people and ask if they had seen her, showing a picture he had on his phone. But he was getting nowhere.
He tried her phone every half hour, but she refused to pick up. The same with Mycroft. Once, he got a secretary saying Mycroft had some important business meeting going on and couldn't be disturbed, no matter who was in potential danger. His own orders apparently.
But finally, after searching for hours, and then meeting up with John at the station, she called.
"Etheldrea, where the hell are you?"
"Don't yell at me yet, Inspector. I may have misjudged my situation completely. I'm near the intersection John Street and Elcho Terrance, heading North West. Being chased. . . . Hurry!"
He grabbed John and they got in a cab. As they got to the intersection, he received a text from Etheldrea.
704 Bellfield Street. Right side.
With the new information, they headed for the house, and there paid the driver and went off in search of her. As soon as they rounded the corner of the house, they saw her. She was lying on the ground, not moving, and Lestrade could see her jacket torn to shreds. Her scarf was gone, and there was a couple on cuts on her cheek. Whoever did this was gone. John kneeled beside her and checked her over.
"Greg, call an ambulance. Now."
All John and Lestrade could do was wait. An hour passed with no word. And then another. John hadn't stopped pacing since they were put here. Lestrade had tried Mycroft again, and this time he got an answer. He was on his way, and would be there within a couple hours. Then he sat down in a chair and waited some more.
"She's been so distant." John said as he paced, "I thought she was just grieving. I didn't know that she- she-"
"No one did. Not even her Uncle, and he's pretty good at keeping track of what she's doing."
"How could he not have known? How could I not have known? She bloody lives under the same roof!"
"It's not your fault, and it's not Mycroft's fault. Honestly, we should blame Etheldrea-"
"And we will, as soon as she's better."
"Yeah. . . . What are you gonna do?"
"She's eighteen, I can't ground her. I can't order her to do anything anymore. She might try to do this again."
"She will. Maybe she should get some therapy."
John stopped pacing for a moment and shook his head, "That's not going to help. You've known her for years, is there anything that would convince her to stop this?"
He sighed, "The Holmes' are notorious for self-destruction. You know Sherlock's past, I'm sure Mycroft went through something at some point. And Etheldrea . . . here we are now."
"There's got to be something, anything."
Lestrade leaned back in his chair, "Did you know Sherlock almost lost custody of Etheldrea?"
John stopped pacing and turned to look at him, "What?"
"Less than a year after we first met. He brought her to a crime scene, really bad, really gruesome. Someone called child services. It was almost three weeks before Mycroft managed to square up some deal or contract. But in that time, she was convinced that not helping with cases would make her see her dad."
"How can that help now?"
"This is going to sound really bad, but . . . Sherlock isn't coming back. Nothing she does will help him, not unless it's to clear his name. I know she feels this is the only way to connect with her dad, but . . ."
"She needs to come to her senses."
Lestrade nodded in agreement, and then looked left when he saw a doctor walking towards. The look on her face wasn't grim, and she had just a hint of a smile.
"Etheldrea Holmes?" she asked.
Lestrade stood up and walked to her, standing just a little bit behind John.
"Etheldrea is doing just fine. The surgery went well, and she should be recovered by the beginning of next month. Luckily, the knife only went about an inch in, and was treated quickly. Now, the cuts along her back, face, and arms will take a couple weeks but are a little more delicate. She can't do much physical exercise, especially lifting."
"Is she awake?" John asked.
"No, not yet. But, within the hour she will. If she cooperates, she should be able to leave in a couple days. Would you like to see her?"
"Please."
She led them down a couple of hallways and then stopped outside the door. She gave them a smile and then left. Lestrade took in the sleeping girl's appearance. In all honesty, she had seen worse, and just as the nurse said, she would probably be up and about as soon as she could.
Just as they were about to take seats, there was a knock at the door. Mycroft Holmes walked in and surveyed his niece. He looked worn and unbelievably tired. Seeing the two men watching him, he sighed.
"Shall we go see what this miserable place has for coffee? My treat."
"Sorry?" John asked.
"There's not much we can do until she wakes up, which won't be for a little while yet. I'm sure you two have had quite the day. Shall we go?"
Lestrade and John took a glance at Etheldrea before following Mycroft. As they walked, they didn't notice Mycroft sending a text.
