I'm sorry this took so much time before I got to write this one, but to my defense I've been horribly busy. When I'm done writing this, I have to go back to cram for my test on Wednesday. I'm not looking forward to that at all. Well, enough about my daylife, enjoy the chapter! :)
When they all came back to the apartment after yet another silent cab drive, Vay disappeared in to Sherlock´s room without saying anything but a low "thanks". John looked up at Sherlock, trying to meet his eyes, but Sherlock had turned his back against him and went to the sofa.
"Sherlock… What do you think you are doing?"
"Don't ask so stupid questions, John. I'm going to bed, of course, or, if you may, the sofa." John cocked an eyebrow. Sherlock was never "going to bed".
"Are this a play to get me to get you in my bed?" John asked, his voice a bit playful.
Sherlock didn't say anything, but turned around with a little smile. John grinned.
"Come here, Sherlock," he said, walking towards him with open arms.
"Now, that just looks ridiculous." Sherlock looked away, but allowed John to lay his arms around him. He clearly needed it. Sherlock would never admit it, of course, but as he tightened his arms around John, he knew he needed it as well. Jim Moriarty was alive. Struck by the thought he'd managed to keep away for sometime, he kissed John´s lips with such a force; John tumbled backwards, still holding his arms around Sherlock. They both fell on the floor, but that didn't stop Sherlock, who was kissing John like it was the last time.
John felt the panic rise when the thought hit him that it might actually be just that. These unwelcome thoughts made him cling even harder to Sherlock, not even thinking that Vay could hear them. Suddenly Sherlock threw him off, and disappeared abruptly in to the bathroom. John turned to an upright position, confused and out of it. After some silent minutes, he followed after.
"Sherlock…?" John asked, gently to the bathroom door. When he received no answer, he tried to open the door. It was locked.
"Sherlock?" His voice was a little scared now.
"Sherlock, open the door!" And the scariness was soon replaced with anger. To his surprise, the lock went click, and he opened the door, only to find Sherlock lying on the floor, looking at the ceiling. John looked at Sherlock´s somewhat puffy eyes.
"Kill me, John."
"WHAT?" John exclaimed. He didn't believe his own ears. What the hell was going on with Sherlock?
"Don't be like that, you heard what I said."
"Why would I do that? Have you gone out of your mind?"
"Because, obvious, if I'm dead, Moriarty will probably leave you alone, and then you can carry on living a normal life. Get a wife and some kids. Aren't that what normal people do these days? Only thing to stopping you from that you deserve is me. Not only am I stopping you from having the life you should have, I'm also constantly putting you in danger. Therefore, kill me."
John gaped. He didn't know what to either feel or say, and he turned on his heel, only to turn back.
"Sherlock - no, you know what, just forget it." He turned on his heel again, and stormed out of the bathroom. Three, two, one. John stormed in again.
"I can't believe you are so selfish! How do you think I would live with myself if I killed you? I don't want a 'normal' life. I want you. If I can't have you, I don't want anyone. So don't you dare go and die on me, Sherlock. Do you listen?" John´s voice broke, but he held his hand up so Sherlock wouldn't say anything. He gathered himself and continued.
"I was so alone when I met you, and I owe you so much. My life wouldn't be worth living if it weren't for you. So don't you die on me. I will never hear you say that again, okay? You. Cannot. Die. On. Me." John laid extra pressure on the last words, because he needed reassurance, and to convince himself. He couldn't bear to look at Sherlock, so he turned his head away. Sherlock had risen to his feet, silently, and laid a hand on John´s shoulder. He turned John around, so that he could look up in the loving eyes to his detective.
"Not good?" Sherlock said this with a voice full of regret. John managed a smile.
"A bit not good, yeah." Sherlock bent down and kissed John easily on the lips, and then just hugged him.
So low that John wasn't even sure he'd actually said it, Sherlock whispered down in his hair:
"Thank you."
"Come on, Sherlock, you need to get some sleep." He saw that Sherlock was about to argue, so he quickly added, "And even if you don't, I do. So then you can watch me sleep. Come on, now." He grabbed Sherlock´s hand and dragged him with him and into his bedroom.
The next morning Sherlock woke up with John easily sleeping in his arms. He looked down on him and felt something warm fill him. He felt the urge to protect him, and knew that this time, he was an even easier match for Jim. He was facing a man with nothing to lose, and that's never good, especially when you've got so much to loose yourself. So how could he avoid any further contact with Jim? Ah, he could send Vay away. That way, she'd be safe (not that he cared), and Jim would be very busy finding her. The case with Vay's boyfriend could be up to Lestrade to fix. It ached in Sherlock when he realized he'd have to give up this case, but when he looked down on John´s blond, curly hair, the aching stopped. It was worth it if it meant keeping John safe.
Sherlock wanted to just lie there the whole day, but stood up from the bed, tucking the quilt good around John, and put on his robe. He went down, stood for a minute in the living room, before heading into his own room. When he entered, he could see a contour of a person sleeping under the quilt, with her head under the pillow. Sherlock cocked and eyebrow, before bending down and lifting away her pillow.
"Vay!" He called out to her, right above her ear. She jumped, awakened with once, and stared at him.
"Why did you sleep on the couch?" Sherlock asked.
"How did you know I slept on the couch? I'm here…" Vay´s tone was in no sense sarcastically, just plain, like she really wondered.
"The pillows on the couch, obvious. I reckon you didn't feel safe in my room." Vay suppressed a smile.
"No, actually, it was because you and John were so loud. It's very thin walls here, you know." Sherlock flushed, almost not visible.
"Go make some coffee. I want mine black with two sugars." He turned away, hiding his own little smile. Vay raised her eyebrows, but did as she was told. As she stood up from the bed, Sherlock noticed she'd slept in her clothes. They were all wrinkly and partly glued to her.
"Had a bad dream?" he asked, more to show off than because he actually cared.
"Not in the mood to hear you show off," Vay said, walking out of the room. She had yet to get over the loss of her boyfriend, Sherlock noticed, she wasn't radiating the normal confidence and calmness, and her shoulders were a bit stooped.
"Vay, if I were to send you away, where would you like to go?" He followed her down to the kitchen, where she easily found her way to the coffee machine and the ingredients.
"You are thinking that sending me away might stop Moriarty from following me." Vay stated, with her back turned against him.
"Probably not. But it will might stop him from finding you." Then, after a little break, he added, "at least with once." Vay didn't turn to look at him now either, but nodded visibly.
"I don't know. I mean, you should be the one to know where he won't look for me."
"He will look for you everywhere. He will find you. But if we move you frequently enough, he might give up." Sherlock didn't believe he would for a second. But then again, if he sent Vay away, and at least tried to keep her safe, he wouldn't have to think about it anymore, and Moriarty might stay busy for a while, until John and himself were ready to take him down once and for all.
"You don't believe that, do you? You think that if you send me away, I'll be safe for sometime, at least, but the main reason you want to is because that'll keep Moriarty away from John."
Sherlock looked at her for a second, before looking away.
"We all want to protect the ones we love."
Vay didn't have a reply to that. She filled the coffeemaker with coffee and water, and just waited. When the coffee had been made, she gave one of the cups to Sherlock sat down around the table. Sherlock saw her looking at the long rift, but she didn't comment on it. She looked down in her cup for a moment, before she decided what to say.
"Italy, maybe. I can go to school there, I speak Italian. Though, if I decide to just go, - there will be traces." She looked up at Sherlock. Sherlock opened his mouth, but just then John entered the room.
"Hey," he said, grabbing a cup and filling it with coffee. He sat down and looked at them.
"What are we talking about?"
"Where we will send me," Vay said, somewhat short, but not rude.
"Send you?" John looked confused.
"Send her, so that Moriarty won't find her," Sherlock elaborated, maybe even shorter.
"But Moriarty,-" John started, but stopped when he got a look from Sherlock.
"Sherlock, could I talk to you for a moment? In private?" Sherlock didn't look like he wanted, and not as he was going to move either. John looked at Vay with excusing eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said, and waived in the direction of the stubborn child at the end of the table. Vay just nodded understandingly, and left, heading for Sherlock´s bedroom.
"Sherlock, are you out of your mind? If we send her away, Moriarty will find her, and, most likely, kill her."
"If we move her frequently enough, -"
"Don't give me that. You and I both know that Moriarty will find her, no matter what. Only place she is safe is with us. So why do you want to send her away? Is this some kind of revenge because she out-smarted you?"
"Don't be stupid, John," Sherlock said, hard. "I'm doing it because it's for the best. I will do what ever I can to keep you safe, you hear that? And Vay is smart, as you said yourself. Maybe she'll out-smart Moriarty."
John had opened his mouth and was on his way to say something again, but Vay entered the room again.
"I'm sorry, but I wanted to hear what you were talking about. I know the reason that Sherlock sends me away, and I know the reason you want me to stay. If this is partly my decision, I want to be sent away. I'll manage Moriarty." Her voice was strong, and she had a burning will in her eyes. John saw that this wasn't something he could argue about anyway.
"I'll have Mycroft give you a new passport, new name and a place at the best school in Italy," Sherlock said, taking his phone up and starting to text. Vay just nodded.
"You'll also have to cut your hair, colour it, and I will have Mycroft bring you some lenses. That eye colour of yours is way to easy to recognize."
"How will we get her to the, airport?" John asked. Sherlock just looked at him. When he realized that John wasn't kidding, he shook his head and said,
"Mycroft will drive her to the train station," John raised his eyebrows. "You know what I mean, he will get someone to do it, and I reckon Anthea will follow her on board. No, wait, he will probably use one we haven't seen before. Probably that new girl of his, Melita." John nodded and turned to Vay.
"Do you want me to follow you home, so that you can pack some of your things?"
Before Vay had had a chance to answer, Sherlock said shortly,
"She doesn't have time. Mycroft will be here in ten minutes."
Eleven minutes later Mycroft arrived, with his purple umbrella.
"Mycroft, you're getting slow," Sherlock said without turning around to look at him. "Should you maybe give your diet a little harder try?"
"Very funny, Sherlock. Now where's that little girl who's put you in so much trouble?" Just then Vay came into the room, wearing the jeans she'd wore the three last days, and one of John´s particularly worn out jumpers. Under the jumper she had one of Sherlock´s blue shirts. John had cut her hair to a bob, and dyed it in a carrot colour she just barely pulled off. They matched her green eyes, but when she sat in the blue-grey contact lenses Mycroft handed her, it really didn't look too good.
"Every colour in the world and you chose carrot orange. She's looking awful!" Sherlock hissed low voiced to John.
"Thank you, Mr Holmes," Vay said coolly, "but if I look like I usually does, I drive a bit of attention to myself. I picked the colour."
"You must excuse my brother. He's a bit… Rude." Mycroft held his hand out and Vay took it.
"I'm Vay Crieff."
"Nice to meet you. If I can come with one correction, though, you are not. You are Amanda Richardson, born in Bristol, 1992." Vay just nodded.
"Here're your papers. There's a car outside. The car will take you to a train station in Devon, where Melita," Sherlock smirked to John, who just rolled his eyes, "will follow you on to the train to Trieste. I have an apartment waiting for you there, clothes and food, and I'll text you your new bank account. You have a scholarship at the school Vieve Alora, it's a private school. Have fun, and be safe. Don't contact anyone here, I've had your papers erased."
"That means you died five minutes ago," Sherlock put in. Mycroft raised his eyebrows.
"What a delicate way to put it, Sherlock."
"Goodbye, Vay! I hope you will have a great time in Italy. Take care!" John said, giving her a hug.
"My brother will surely keep an eye on you all the time," Sherlock said, partly looking at Mycroft. He shook his head in annoying, but didn't say anything.
"Well, that's nice to know," Vay said, with a tone none of them could make anything out of. She gave Sherlock a hug before she went out the door and into the black car. The hug was a bit awkward, but at least Sherlock put his arms around her, in a way. John shook his head, trying to suppress the tiny, egoistic grin over that Sherlock so clearly didn't have any feelings for her anymore. If he'd ever had, though. This is, after all, Sherlock bloody Holmes, John thought, staring with love on his favourite consulting detective.
Sherlock didn't look at John at all, he was to busy fingering with the note that suddenly lay in the left pocket of his robe. Would it take forever before Mycroft got out of there? It seemed so.
"Would you like a cup of tea, Mycroft?" Mrs Hudson asked, who'd just come up when Vay went down.
"Yes, thank you, Mrs Hudson," Mycroft said with the well-known, cold smile of his. He sat down on the chair John used to sit in, so John found his space on the sofa. Sherlock jumped down in his usual seat, waiting impatiently for Mycroft to leave.
"This Vay, she's cost a lot of trouble for you, I guess? The death of Peter von Woller is closed as suicide. Just thought you would like to know."
Sherlock, who'd started playing an especially bad-sounding melody, stopped abruptly.
"Why would I like to know that?"
"You said it wasn't suicide," Mycroft said, waiting for Sherlock´s reaction to this. He started playing his violin again, this time a much better tune. He rose to his feet and walked in front of the window, playing some kind of Beethoven. John felt in the back of his head this was a song he'd heard loads of times, so it had to be a rather familiar one.
"Playing Bach, are we?" Mycroft tried again. Bach. Of course, John thought to himself.
"Please leave, I'm busy." Mycroft opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and turned to leave.
"Do tell me when you are feeling grown-up to have an actual conversation, Sherlock. I might have some information you'd like. Good day, Mrs Hudson. John." He left the apartment to the sound of Sherlock squeezing the bow to the strings, making an utterly awful sound.
"Oh, dear, cut that out, Sherlock," Mrs Hudson said, before she took the tea tray down again. As soon as Mrs Hudson had left their flat, Sherlock took out the note. It was written on the same piece of paper as all the other notes, this time in Vay´s already familiar handwriting.
This has been so fun. Thanks for playing my game, doing what I wanted you to do. Even though you think you can't make anyone happy, you've made me happy. I do, however, feel a little bit guilty for telling you that Jim Moriarty was alive. But you didn't really believe that, did you? Well, I guess you did, since you asked John to kill you in order to keep him safe. I have to say you disappointed me at that point. Thought you'd be harder to fool. My boyfriend was an ass. He hit me several times, and tried to strangle me once. He's no great loss. I think Italy will be amazing. I made you this note to show you that frankly, there're people out there who's smarter than you. I'm sure this won't do any difference to my going, because you'll never in a lifetime tell Mycroft you've been fooled by a 17 years old. At least now you can relax and enjoy your time with John, safe in the knowledge that James Moriarty is good and dead, and that I'm enjoying myself far away.
VC
Sherlock stared at the note in disbelief. John looked nervous at Sherlock´s face, something was definitely not right. Sherlock threw the paper bit he'd had between his hands on the table, turning around for his phone. Vay might have thought he wouldn't contact his brother, but he was going to prove her wrong. As John read the note in shock, Mycroft answered the phone.
"Hallo, dear brother, miss me already? Or did you find the note Vay left for you in your left pocket?"
"You knew? And you didn't tell me? Why did you send her away, then?" Sherlock sounded really confused, a feeling you didn't normally hear coming from that part.
"Because, little Valencia Crieff has made quite a mess here in London. She obviously wanted to get away, so we got rid of her. She'll do fine in Italy, and if she does some trouble, we're keeping an eye on her. We couldn't do anything here, anyway, she's smart. No proves anywhere."
"She's not that smart." Sherlock said, shortly, not sure if he was trying to convince his brother or himself.
"Sherlock, she out-smarted you. She got you thinking that Jim Moriarty was alive. Does that sound like a kind of person we could have walking around here? Which, by the way, was also one of the reasons I knew she was lying. Moriarty is dead. I would've known if he was to rise from the death. Go cuddle up with John now, and forget about her. It's nothing you can do anyway."
Sherlock put his phone down, staring at the note for some minutes before throwing it in the fireplace. John came over to him and kissed him easily on his ear.
"I know something that will make you forget about this," he whispered in Sherlock´s ear.
"Don't be ridiculous – AH!" John had sat his hand down on Sherlock´s crotch. Well, maybe it wasn't so ridiculous after all.
In a cosy, Italian apartment far away from England, Vay sat in front of her own fireplace, staring at the picture of the note on her phone. She felt quite pleased with herself. She'd gotten Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock bloody Holmes, to believe that Jim Moriarty was alive again. Well, that had been fun. What was next? As she sat, thinking about it, still with the picture open on her telephone, she suddenly noticed that a red dot had appeared on her left side, right above the heart. A laser beam.
"Oh, but you see, I am alive. And you've made quite a show on my behalf, so this time I'm taking you in as a part of my game. Naah, look at you. This will be fun." Vay turned around in shock, suddenly facing the world´s only consulting criminal.
I promised you a long one! Okay, I hope I got you all with that twist on the end. Please be a sweetie and tell me what you think of this chapter! I was a bit unsure, but I'm also glad I finally got my twist. This was as far ahead that I had planned, though. What do to next? Continue or call it an end?
Your meaning is much appreciated. :)