Author's Note: I decided to add some more missing scenes. I tried to use British expressions I remember as much as possible. Although, this has not been Britpicked, so please forgive my American errors. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. Reviews are welcome.
Sherlock: Lazarus Rises
Chapter 3
(Extended & New Scenes for "The Empty Hearse")
Mrs. Hudson awoke the next morning around 7:00am to an eerie quiet. She thought about what happened the night before, wondering if she had only dreamed about Sherlock coming back from the dead. But then, just as she was beginning to truly doubt that his return ever really occurred, she heard the telltale sounds of creaking floorboards coming from 221B above. She beamed with happiness with the realization that that was definitely Sherlock walking around upstairs, and she did not dream of his return after all.
After dressing for the day, Mrs. Hudson quickly went into the kitchen with a feeling of purpose that she hadn't felt for two years. She was not Sherlock Holmes' housekeeper, no, definitely not; but that didn't mean she doesn't think of him like a son. And she was determined to cook him his favorite breakfast to help put a little healthy weight back on his bones. He was definitely too skinny….always had been since she knew him with his crazy eating habits or lack thereof. So with that thought on her mind, she put the tea kettle on and began collecting the ingredients to cook his breakfast.
As the older lady scurried around to complete her tasks, she realized that Sherlock was up rather early for him. "Poor boy probably couldn't sleep. He's so worried John won't forgive him." She thought to herself as she was starting to put everything onto a tray to carry upstairs.
Once everything was ready, she picked up the tray, continued out of her flat, and mounted the stairs to 221B. She could hear Sherlock still moving about; and when she arrived in the open doorway, she saw him standing in front of the sofa, dressed in his signature black trousers, a light blue shirt, and red satin dressing gown as he looked over several pictures and a map he had pinned to the wall. A warm glow from the sun pouring in from the front windows of the flat enveloped him and his dark, curly locks. It was a beautiful sight to see again, and it brought a tear to her eye.
"Yoo hoo." Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as she balanced the tray on her left hand and knocked with the other. Sherlock turned to look at her with a warm smile as she entered and proceeded to place the tray on the dining table. "I brought you your breakfast, dear."
Sherlock continued to smile at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."
"You're welcome, dear." Mrs. Hudson replied as she watched as he walked over to join her at the dining table, stealing a biscuit from the tray while he sat; and she placed the English breakfast he so loved much in front of him. "I hope you plan on eating more than that biscuit you just nicked, young man." She scolded him, slapping his hand as he reached for another one.
Sherlock smirked at his landlady. "Of course, I am." He assured her as he picked up his fork and knife, proceeding to cut the ham as she poured his tea.
"That's good, Sherlock." She replied with a wide smile. "It's good to see you eating while on a case. When did you start doing that?" She asked as she pointed at the wall and then glanced back over at Sherlock.
"Yes…well…I have learned during the last two years that eating while on a case can sometimes be beneficial." Sherlock informed her just before putting a piece of egg in his mouth.
"That's good to hear, dear." Mrs. Hudson told him as she sat down in the chair next to him and watched him eat. It was then that Sherlock's phone beeped, indicating that he just received a text. He quickly put down the silverware so he could retrieve the phone from his dressing gown pocket. "Who is it? Is it John?" She asked with hope in her voice.
"No." Sherlock replied with some pain of disappointment in his voice. But his spirits lifted as he read the text. "It's from Lestrade. He wants me to come by later to look at the Skeleton Mystery case that was in the papers recently."
"Oh, now see, Sherlock. The detective inspector has forgiven you and is happy to have you back." Mrs. Hudson told him with a warm smile. "He's already sending you cases."
Sherlock smiled warmly back at her. "Yes, well…apparently, I have Anderson, of all people, to thank for that."
"What?!" Mrs. Hudson replied in shock. "Isn't he the forensic officer you didn't get on with who worked on Detective Inspector Lestrade's team?"
"Yes." Sherlock replied with a smirk. "He's now…a fan."
Mrs. Hudson laughed. "He is?!"
"Yes, he is." Sherlock replied with a chuckle. "He apparently felt so guilty about my 'suicide' that he was convinced that I had faked my death and was still out there solving crimes." Sherlock informed her. "No matter how much he would deny it, Anderson had Lestrade half-convinced that his theories were true."
Mrs. Hudson beamed. "Well, he was right, you know. I hope you intend on thanking him."
"Uh…" Sherlock started not knowing exactly how to respond to that.
"You know it's the right thing to do." Mrs. Hudson scolded him.
"Hmm. That's debatable." Sherlock teased.
"Sherlock Holmes, you better go over there and thank that man for keeping your good name alive." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
Sherlock looked at her with love in his eyes. "Perhaps…I will go see him…later." Sherlock tried to assure her as he then attempted to move on from her line of questioning while he texted his reply to Lestrade.
ooOoo
Greg and Sally were sitting in a coffee shop on their break as Greg's phone beeped that he had just received a text. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and smiled when he saw it was a reply from Sherlock.
Sally was sitting across from him looking at him suspiciously as she peered over her styrofoam cup, taking a sip of her coffee. "It's from 'him', isn't it?" She asked as she lowered the cup to the table.
Greg acted like he was ignoring her as he typed a response.
"Greg!" Sally exclaimed, trying to get his attention.
"What, Sally?" Greg retorted as he hit send and glared up at her. "I heard you. And what of it if it is?"
"Greg, you know what happened the last time you got Sherlock Holmes involved in our cases." Sally tried to remind him.
"Yeah, our rate of cases solved went up dramatically." Greg reminded her.
Sally let out a huff. "You know what he's like. He'll be waltzing onto our crime scenes, pissing off everyone again and treating us like idiots."
Greg let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose before giving her a pointed look. "Yes, but you don't know him like I do, Sally. He's a good man."
Sally laughed sarcastically. "He let all of you believe he was dead, Greg…for two years. How does that make him a good man? He even made John Watson watch. What sick bastard does that to their friend? You saw how John was while he was away. You were afraid John would follow Sherlock to the grave because of his PTSD."
Greg was getting really upset now. "Just shut up, Sally! You don't know what you're talking about. I know what Sherlock's 'death' did to John, to all of us. But he also did it to protect us. It was done with noble intentions. If he didn't die, Moriarty's snipers had orders to shoot me, John, and their landlady, Mrs. Hudson."
Sally jaw dropped. "What?"
"You heard me. He didn't have a choice. He had to 'kill' himself. And we all had to believe it; or we would all be dead right now." Greg continued.
Sally was flabbergasted. "I had no idea."
"No, you didn't. None of us did." Greg replied sadness. "I can't imagine what that must have felt like for him…knowing that we would all have to believe he committed suicide. That he killed himself in shame."
"And you believe him?" Sally asked, still not totally believing all of this.
"Yes!" Greg told her with such conviction that it startled Sally. He meant it and he believed it without any doubt.
"Then…if you truly believe that, Greg…perhaps I have grossly misjudged him." Sally finally admitted.
"Yes, you have." Greg agreed but then paused, looking at her suspiciously, as he realized what she had just said. "Wait! You're actually going to give Sherlock another chance? Why the sudden change of heart?"
Sally sighed. "As much as it pains me to say this, yes, I am willing to give him another chance." She paused. "But I'm only doing this for you, Greg, because I know how much it means to you to have him back." She hesitated again as she studied him. "You're happier than you have been in years, Greg. When you left the office last night, looking so tired and worn down, I was worried about you." She reached out and covered his hand. "And when you came back to the office a few minutes later with Sherlock, it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You've been so much better since you found out Sherlock is alive."
"Have I?" Greg replied.
"Yes."
An awkward silence then fell between them as they continued to drink their coffees, not knowing what else to say.
"So…has Sherlock agreed to look at the mystery skeleton we found?" Sally finally asked.
Greg nodded. "Yes, later today. He's meeting me around 5:00pm this evening." Greg paused and then smiled warmly. "It's strange…knowing he's alive after thinking he was dead for so long."
"It would be strange for anyone, Greg." Sally replied.
"Yeah." Greg agreed. "It's just good to know the truth now. I don't have to feel guilty any more about his death."
"It wasn't your fault, Greg." Sally tried to assure him. "It was mine…and Anderson's. We convinced you and the chief superintendent that he was a fraud."
"I shouldn't have believed it…even for a second…even with all of the evidence against him." Greg told her. "I knew…know Sherlock. He is a lot of things, but he would have never hurt a child. He would have never hurt that old lady. I heard the worry in his voice as he was pleading with the old blind woman not to tell him anything about the man who had strapped those explosives to her. He was devastated when he heard the bomb go off. I could see it in his eyes. He felt like he had failed her."
"I thought it was all just an act." Sally informed him.
"It wasn't." Greg told her. "Believe me, Sherlock can be a good actor when he wants to be. But not about something like that."
Sally just nodded in response with an air of guilt, not knowing how to reply to that.
"Do you know what Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, once told me?" Greg stated as Sally eyed him with curiosity.
"No, what?" Sally replied, urging him to continue.
"He told me once that, 'My brother has the mind of a scientist or a philosopher; but he chooses to solve crimes for a living. What can you deduce about his heart?'"
"I..I never really thought about it that way." Sally admitted.
"He doesn't just solve crimes for the fun of it. He does it because he cares about the victims and wants to help people with his gifts." Greg informed her. "It's the only thing that makes logical sense. And the fact he 'died' to save people he cares about only strengthens that belief."
"Yes, I can see that now." Sally admitted with a heavy heart.
Greg reached over and patted her hand. "Don't blame yourself. Moriarty planted the evidence against Sherlock, and he made it very convincing."
Sally nodded with sadness.
"Come on. We need to get back to work." Greg ordered as he got up from his chair, coffee cup in hand.
"Yes, sir." Sally acquiesced as she got to her feet as well and followed her boss out of the coffee shop.
ooOoo
5:00pm came a lot faster than Greg had realized and the next thing he knew he was waiting outside the house where the mysterious skeleton dressed in Victorian clothing had been found. He waited anxiously for Sherlock to arrive and smiled as he saw a cab with a familiar silhouette pull up to the kerb. He was surprised, though, when he noticed that Sherlock wasn't alone as both he and Molly emerged from the cab; and then Sherlock reached through the open window to pay the fare to the cabbie.
"Glad you could make it." Greg stated as both men shook hands and greeted each other with a smile, Sherlock remaining quiet for once. "Hello, Molly." Greg also greeted the pathologist with confusion, looking between the two new arrivals, as Molly smiled shyly back at him.
"Hi Greg." Molly replied.
"So, uh, right." Greg answered, not knowing what else to say as he and Sherlock studied one another. "God, it's so good to have the kid back." Greg thought to himself with happiness. "This is so weird."
"Soo…you have something to show me?" Sherlock asked, trying to bring Greg back to reality.
"Yes, uh, of course, this way." Greg replied as he smiled fondly at Sherlock, still not believing he was back from the 'dead', even though he was standing right in front of him. He knew Sherlock noticed this but uncharacteristically did not deduce it out loud, which surprised him. Instead he and Molly just quietly followed him into the house to where the door to the basement had been sealed off with police tape.
"This one has got us all baffled." Greg proceeded to inform them as he reached up to take the tape off the door frame so they could enter.
"Hmm. I don't doubt it." Sherlock characteristically replied this time as Greg opened the door and he and Molly proceeded to follow him down the steps to the basement.
ooOoo
After Sherlock had given his deductions of the skeleton and walked out of the basement's hidden room, Greg glanced over at Molly with concern. "Is he alright?" He asked, pointing in the direction Sherlock had just gone.
Molly shrugged sadly, fidgeting with her fingers. "I think he just misses John. John is still angry at him."
"So John still hasn't forgiven him?" Greg asked with sadness.
Molly sadly shook her head, no, in response as Greg sighed.
"Well, you better go catch up to him. You know what he's like…always rushing off."
"Yes, I know." Molly replied meekly. "Thank you, Greg. See you later." She told him as she waved.
"Bye, Molly." Greg replied as he also waved and then watched as she hurried off to catch up to Sherlock.
Greg sighed as he put his hands in his pockets and then smiled warmly to himself as he thought about how great it was to have Sherlock back. Sally was right. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, knowing that Sherlock was alive and didn't blame him for what happened…and that he still trusted him.
As he stood there, thinking about this recent encounter with Sherlock, Greg also couldn't help but notice how humble and polite Sherlock had been…well for Sherlock that is. It was so unlike him. It was like Sherlock had grown up in the last couple of years and had learned a bit about human interaction. At least that was his hope…but he knew part of it was only because Sherlock missed John.
He gave one last glance over at the skeleton sitting at the antique desk and chuckled as he also left the hidden basement room. "It's good to have Sherlock back."
ooOoo
After Sherlock left Molly behind that evening to go home, he considered how he felt about the day he had spent with Molly and the revelation that like John she, too, was engaged to be married. Everyone was moving on with their lives and getting engaged, leaving Sherlock behind. So even though Sherlock was back, surrounded by people who knew him, he had never felt so alone as he did at that moment. Even when he was away those two years or before John became his flatmate and friend, he never felt this alone. He realized then that he did have a heart, and it was breaking. Molly, his pathologist, had finally moved on, despite knowing the truth that he was alive and may return to London someday. But isn't that what he wanted? For her to give up on him so he could remain married to his work?
Something about Molly's engagement, though, didn't sit well with him. She still loved him and had a crush on him. That was obvious. Although, she knew she was on borrowed time today; and she would soon need to return to her fiancé, Tom. "Tom. I will have to find out who this Tom is and make sure he is worthy of my pathologist. Considering her track record with men, I hope he is a vast improvement to some of the other men she has dated in the past." Sherlock then paused in his thoughts. "Where did that come from? Because she is your friend and you want to protect her." His subconscious was telling him. "Because you love her…admit it." "What am I thinking?" Sherlock stated out loud and shook off that thought immediately as it began. "I'm married to my work. Remember?"
Although, something about the pathologist was different, he realized. She acted more confident around him now and that baffled him. He knew they had grown closer since she helped him fake his death and hidden him in her flat until it was time to leave London. He smiled warmly at that memory. He really did enjoy that time he had spent with her…as a friend. "Molly is just my friend. That's why I love her and want to protect her." He thought to himself and smiled, convinced that he had solved the riddle that was Molly Hooper and his feelings for her.
His thoughts then drifted to the moment when he asked Molly to go to the fish shop with him for dinner and the thought of food actually made his stomach growl. He smiled as he decided fish n' chips was actually a great idea and caught a cab to the fish shop on Marylebone Road he had told Molly about that gave him extra portions.
When the cab finally pulled up to the kerb next to the fish shop, he quickly paid the cabbie, got out of the cab, and then continued inside. As soon as the door opened, the shop owner looked up, then beamed with happiness when he saw who was standing just inside the door. "Sherlock Holmes, my old friend! It's good to see you!" He exclaimed as he quickly walked over and pulled the detective into a huge bear hug, patting him on the back before releasing him.
Sherlock had gone rigid in the other man's arms and looked stunned at this greeting. He hadn't reciprocated the hug but was actually quite touched that this man thought him to be a friend, especially in light of John's recent rejection of him. "Um, thank you…Frank." Sherlock replied. "I, uh…"
"Came for fish n' chips, I know." Frank, the owner, finished for him as he waved his arms around pointing to the obvious fish n' chips paraphernalia around the shop. "It doesn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out." He stated with a chuckle and Sherlock actually blushed and chuckled himself. "Welcome back, my friend! It's good to hear you're alive and well after all." He then became more serious. "I just want you to know. I never believed anything they said about you."
Sherlock, despite himself, couldn't help but smile warmly at the shop owner's sincerity. "Thank you. It's good to be back." He admitted truthfully.
"Fish n' chips are on the house." Frank informed him as he turned around and proceeded to put servings of both into a 'to go' container and wrapper as Sherlock noticed that everyone in the shop was staring at him with amazement. "I'll never get used to that." Sherlock thought to himself as Frank return to where he was standing.
"Here you go, mate. Enjoy!" Frank informed him as returned to him. He handed Sherlock his fish n' chips and patted him on the arm. "It so very good to have you back, mate."
"Um, thank you again, Frank." Sherlock told the shop owner sincerely.
"Any time, Sherlock." Frank told him. "Please come again. You're always welcome here."
Sherlock smiled as he started toward the door. "Oh, I will. Later, Frank." He told him and waved as he left the shop.
"Later, Sherlock!" Frank reciprocated as Sherlock walked back out onto the pavement outside.
Sherlock looked around, breathing in the damp London air. It smelled like rain but the walk from the fish shop to Baker Street was only about 8 minutes; so Sherlock decided to chance it and walk home instead of getting a cab.
While he walked, he nibbled on some chips and thought about how everyone else in his life was so happy to see him alive and back in London. Although, the one person he really wanted to forgive him was still angry with him and may never forgive him. He sighed sadly at this thought as he approached the door to 221 and turned the knob.
"Is that you, Sherlock?!" Mrs. Hudson called from her flat as Sherlock came through the inner door.
"Yes, it's just me, Mrs. Hudson!" He shouted back as he headed up the stairs. "No need for dinner. I brought home take away!" He informed her.
"Ok, dear!" She yelled back and he could hear her humming happily from the flat.
He smiled as he continued his way up the stairs and entered his flat. He then proceeded to start eating one of the fish sticks when he heard pounding on the door downstairs and then Mrs. Hudson's and Mary's voices floating up the stairs. Mary was telling Mrs. Hudson that she thought someone had taken John. That got his attention as he heard her coming up the stairs.
"Mary?!" Sherlock walked out onto the landing, concern written all over his face. "What's wrong?" He asked as Mary, looking frightened, walked up to him, showing him her phone.
"Someone sent me this. At first, I thought it was a Bible thing…you know spam…but it's not. It's a skip code." Mary told him.
"Odd." Sherlock thought as he glanced at her with suspicion but then looked back at her phone, his only thought now being that John could be in danger. "First word, then every third. 'Save John Watson'…'Saint James The Less'. Now!" Sherlock dropped his dinner, the fish n' chips totally forgotten as he ran for the stairs.
"Where are we going?" Mary asked him.
"Saint James The Less…It's a church." Sherlock informed her as they both rushed down the stairs and out to the street, drizzling rain falling onto them. All Sherlock could think about now was that he was going to lose John. He had to get to him…save him before it was too late.
ooOoo
Sherlock was completely and utterly relieved they had reached John in time. The unthinkable almost happened. John could have been burned alive, and it would have been all his fault. John's life had been put in danger again all because Sherlock had returned to London. He was sure of it.
He was pacing back and forth nervously as the paramedics were examining John, who was still laying on the ground near the bonfire. He had become unconscious shortly after Sherlock had pulled him from the flames. Mary and he had tried to rouse him, but it was obvious that John had been drugged. So they proceeded to call the paramedics.
Mary glanced over at Sherlock with a sad smile on her face; and she walked over to him, seeing his guilt and worry consuming him. "Sherlock, he is going to be alright. You got him out of the bonfire in time."
"This is all my fault. If I hadn't come back to London, revealed that I'm still alive, this wouldn't have happened." Sherlock confided in her. "John will know this too, and hate me even more. He'll blame me."
Mary put her arm around him to comfort him, and Sherlock didn't do anything to stop her. "He won't blame you, Sherlock. And he doesn't hate you."
Sherlock pulled back from her, looking at her with surprise. "He doesn't?"
Mary smiled. "No, he doesn't. He told me he was going to Baker Street after his shift at the surgery tonight. He was on his way to see you."
Sherlock glanced at her with shock. "H-He was?"
Mary's smile became wider. "Yes, he was. He is ready to forgive you. You're his best friend, and you did what you needed to do to save his life. He understands that now."
Sherlock swallowed, trying to get rid of the emotions that knowledge was creating in him. But then a thought occurred to him that sent a chill up his spine. "But I wasn't there, and Mrs. Hudson didn't mention that he had stopped by." Sherlock informed her. "Which means he was taken before he made it to Baker Street. They knew he would be coming to my flat and were waiting for him." He paused as he couldn't believe he was even entertaining his next train of thought. "I'll ask my brother to send me the CCTV footage from around Baker Street. Perhaps we can find some clues that will lead us to who did this."
"He can do that?" Mary asked with surprise and then paused in thought. "Actually, I think I remember John telling me about him. That you considered him 'the British government' or some rubbish like that because he held a 'minor position' in the government. But he wasn't kidding, was he?"
"Not totally, no. My brother is very highly connected…" Sherlock told her as they both noticed one of the paramedics waving them over.
As they approached, the male paramedic smiled at them. "He should be fine, so don't worry. But we still want to take him to hospital to run a few more tests and keep him overnight for observation. But we have every reason to believe there shouldn't be any lasting effects. He had quite an ordeal, though; so he is sleeping now. We're ready to load him into the ambulance, but only one of you can accompany him."
Both Mary and Sherlock let out a sigh of relief and looked at each other. "You go with him, Mary." Sherlock insisted and then smiled. "You're his fiancé. I'm the last person he will want to see when he wakes up." He informed her with a smile and then paused. "Besides…I have a motorbike to return."
Mary smiled and laughed, patting his arm. "Oh ok. Sherlock. But go home and don't worry. I'll make sure he comes to see you tomorrow after he's recovered."
"Ok. Thank you, Mary." Sherlock said as they both exchanged smiles, and Mary squeezed his arm again with reassurance.
"I'll text you when I know the test results." Mary assured him, feeling guilty that she was leaving him behind.
"It's alright. Just go. They are waiting for you." Sherlock urged her as she smiled again.
"Thank you for everything, Sherlock." Mary told him with a smile. She then waved as she walked over to where they were lifting the trolley carrying her fiancé into the back of the ambulance; and she soon followed them with the doors being shut behind her.
Sherlock waved a thank you to the paramedics as they drove passed him heading towards hospital. The events that night had scared him. He had almost lost his best friend before he had the chance to forgive him. But at the same time, a feeling of warmth filled his heart. "John has forgiven me." He thought to himself with a smile as he walked back toward where he and Mary had left the motorbike. "I'm finally getting my life back. Perhaps I won't be so alone after all."
