Sherlock went back to the scene via taxi, Marie floating above, as usual. When they got there, it was empty- the Yarders had already left. Pleased with his good fortune, Sherlock picked the lock and snuck back in to the apartment, Marie following silently, in a visible spectrum. "You're back already?" The hope filled voice of Anna made Marie's head turn. Anna appeared in a spectrum not visible to Sherlock (she was young and didn't know how to get there, and besides, she was shy), her face full of the hope that had been in her voice.
"We need to know Deborah's last name and where she lives, if you know. She took your mobile phone after you were dead. If we catch her with it, she can be arrested for your murder." Marie told her, and Sherlock whipped around, fascinated by the fact that Marie was talking to what looked like air. Anna frowned, looking at Sherlock.
"He makes me feel odd," she told Marie in an undertone, as if Sherlock could hear.
"I know- that's what they do. Just take a step back and try to ignore it as best you can. Eventually you'll build up a tolerance to it," Marie instructed, and Anna shivered, doing as she'd been told. Sherlock sent Marie a curious look, but she ignored it. Anna's confession had made her realize the obvious- that Anna was a very new ghost. She'd been warned of the rules, but when ghosts were young it was hard to control themselves- Marie knew that first hand. She made a mental note to keep an eye on Anna until the case was over, just in case.
"You wanted to know about Deborah? Her last name is Loch, if I remember correctly. I think she lives in Waterloo- either way, I think she's in my address book. I made sure to find out about her from Jack after she threatened me at Piccadilly Station. It's in my office, top desk drawer," She instructed.
"Check the top desk drawer of her desk in her office," Marie told Sherlock, who left just as briskly as he'd entered in a swish of coattails.
"You will get her, right? You'll bring her to justice, won't you?" Anna asked, drawing closer to Marie, starting to sound desperate. Marie glanced at her. Slightly trembling fingers, red-rimmed eyes, a pale face; Anna was struggling to keep herself together. Marie held out her arms, recognizing the signs, and Anna practically threw herself into the hug. Wishing that she had had someone present to help her solve her murder like this as well as to comfort her, Marie put love into the hug she gave Anna. She could sympathize more than anyone else Anna would ever meet, which made solving her case all the more hurtful to her. Despite that, Marie didn't care. She wanted to help- and Anna needed it.
"Sherlock is one of the most incredible people I have ever met. He will find Deborah, and your mobile. He will make sure that Deborah pays for her crime, I promise you," Marie told Anna, who held on tighter, back trembling as she held back a sob.
"The Ghost Council representative…he told me that some ghosts find that eternal rest. Do you think, if Deborah is caught, that I'll find it?" Anna asked, looking up to Marie, nothing but hope in her eyes.
"I hope that you do, Anna. You have no other reason to be stuck here, so I hope that you do, with all my heart," Marie told her, and Anna hugged her again, letting out a shaky breath.
"I want to find it, but at the same time…I want to stay. With Jake. I want to stay with him." Anna whispered into Marie's shoulder, and Marie felt herself tense. She pulled away from Anna gently, seeking eye-contact to drive her point home.
"No, you don't, Anna. Trust me, it's the worst feeling in the world." Marie told her firmly, and Anna's eyes roamed over her face, trying to understand. When she got it, her hands flew to her mouth.
"You loved someone, loved them so very much, and then you were murdered. Oh, that's horrible!" Anna cried, seeing the truth in Marie's face when she grimaced, turning her face away.
"I made him think that I moved on to a better place on purpose, hoping that he'd live a healthier life, but he still thinks of me often. I- I miss him more than anything else, and now I'm stuck watching him grow old, watching him move on in life without me. The self-control it takes to leave him alone, to not follow him everywhere, is almost too much, especially because he is Sherlock's brother. I see him all the time, and all I want to do is stay with him, let him know that I'm still here, but I won't do that to him. I don't want him to suffer." Marie told her, furiously wiping a few tears away by the end of her speech. "So, Anna, trust me," Marie said, getting her steel back when Anna just stared at her, open-mouthed, tears of her own on her face. "Solving your murder will bring closure to both you and Jack. You will still love each other, even though you are separated, and it's really better for both of you. You don't want to put yourself through that and you don't want to lose control one day and just…kill him." Marie reminded Anna of the awful truth, that she was still attracted to humans for the sole purpose of killing them. Even though she loved Jack, Anna wouldn't be able to resist trying to kill him if she stayed too long, got in too deep.
Anna shuddered, holding herself. "I understand. And I'm sorry, for you. I really am." She told Marie, who offered a weak smile in return. "That man, Sherlock, is he still trying to help you, or..?" Anna asked, and Marie felt a funny pang in her gut at the mention of Sherlock. He'd gone to get the address book, and then…
"Where is he? Sherlock?" Marie called, whirling around and moving straight through walls, trying to find him more quickly. She needn't have bothered- she could tell that Sherlock wasn't anywhere in the building. A bad feeling started in her stomach.
"It's ok- he probably went to the police, to find Deborah," Anna reassured Marie as she returned back to Anna's bedroom. Marie shook her head, feeling her apprehension build.
"No, not Sherlock. He's a genius, but he's proud and stupid. He probably went on his own, that idiot!" Marie took a deep breath to calm herself- she could get to Sherlock in seconds if she needed to, and he hadn't called her. Besides, wasn't it better that he hadn't heard her long speech about Mycroft, and missing him, dealing with the fact that she couldn't be with him every day? Wasn't it better that he hadn't heard her true emotions poured out in one quick paragraph? Her heart said yes, but her mind said no.
"Oh," Anna frowned, starting to feel Marie's worry. "We should go after him, then. I want to be there when he gets her," Anna added, a determined scowl forming on her face. "Do you need her address? I think I remember it-,"
"No, just take my hand. You haven't used the spectrums to travel yet, and I don't have time to show you," Marie interrupted, holding out her hand. Anna took it without hesitation, and then they were off. She heard Anna's gasp of shock before it was whipped away across three different spectrums as Marie raced across them, chasing her intuition to find Sherlock. It didn't take long to find the one-story, ranch style house in a suburb of Waterloo-in fact, they ended up in the middle of it. The house was deadly silent- except for- that! Marie's head snapped around to follow the barely audible shifting noise she had heard. It was coming from the other side of the house, and considering a heartbeat was in the same direction, she silently floated along a hand raised behind her in warning to Anna. Marie went down a dark hallway and turned left, into a bedroom, freezing in shock. Sherlock was on the floor, bound by zip-ties, starting to shift towards the bed, where, underneath the frame, lay a mobile phone that had to be Anna's. "Dammit, Sherlock!" Marie whispered, making him start. Marie flashed into awareness, her panic starting to die. "Did you call the Yard before you came out here?" Marie asked, crouching down next to him.
"Of course I did," Sherlock whispered, rolling his eyes. "She's still here, in the basement," Sherlock added, a flash of irritation flashing over his features as he shifted, trying to sit up more. Marie's eyes flashed up to his head, where she could see just a rivulet of blood by his hairline. The sight of it made her insides burn. If Deborah wasn't already going down for murder, Marie would have ensured that she spent time in prison for hurting Sherlock.
"You are an idiot," Marie told him harshly, giving a shiver as she solidified completely. She'd need to be solid in order to free Sherlock, which was priority number one. Sherlock's life burned her, as usual, as did the woman in the basement, but Marie had handled much worse when she was much younger, and Sherlock's life barely called out to her anymore; she was used to ignoring it. "Hold still," She told Sherlock, and he instantly held still. She reached out a finger, but sudden footsteps on the stairs made her freeze. Deborah. "Anna, can you distract Deborah for a bit?" Marie requested, not looking away from her task at hand, trying to stay calm. She needed to prioritize in order to get this done.
"Of course," Anna said firmly, and Marie watched her float back down the hallway before she focused on Sherlock's bonds. Zip-ties. Plastic. Lovely. Rope would have been much easier to deal with; now she'd have to burn it off quickly, with just a quick shock of fire from her finger. Her concern was that Sherlock's skin would be so close to her own, and while she could handle his presence while solid, she couldn't handle touching him. Her previously burned hand tingled in remembrance of touching Mycroft as she reached out a single finger, focusing her attention on one spot on the zip-tie.
"You aren't real! I killed you!" Deborah screamed from downstairs, and Sherlock flinched, almost throwing Marie off.
"Hurry," he told her in an undertone, body thrumming with tension and energy, waiting impatiently to be freed. Marie focused again, brows coming down as she selected one spot on the zip-tie. She let the power in her flow down, through her finger, and then, with a satisfying pop, the zip-tie snapped cleanly. Sherlock instantly pushed himself up to a better sitting position as Marie hastily moved to his ankles, letting the power flow again as she touched the thin tie with her finger.
"You aren't real!" Deborah practically snarled from down below as the zip tie snapped off of Sherlock's ankles. He scrambled to his feet, snatching up the mobile phone. Footsteps scrambled up the stairs.
"Marie, you have to go!" Anna called in warning, switching to a different spectrum, hiding from Deborah, appearing beside her. Marie instantly went to the same non-visible spectrum as Anna but powered up, determined to keep Sherlock from harm. Anna looked at her curiously, seeing how Marie was starting to literally glow. Deborah appeared in the doorway, a slim carving knife in hand. There was still blood on it- Anna's blood.
"You brought this on me, didn't you! You brought her here!" Deborah jabbered, pointing the knife at Sherlock. At almost the same time, outside, the screaming of sirens could be heard; the police had finally arrived. "If I killed her, I can kill you!" Deborah raved, pulling her arm back, as if to throw the knife. At that moment, reaching deep into her newly damaged soul, Marie found that cosmic power that had invaded her, that had refused to leave. Might as well use it, Marie thought, and released it as the knife left Deborah Loch's hand. The knife flew, hit the cosmic powers, and slowed down. For humans, time was still moving as quickly as it always did. For Marie, she had lots of time to turn around and use more cosmic power to force Sherlock to duck. She knew that he'd feel it, but that didn't matter. He'd be safe. Marie had just enough time to vaporize so that the knife passed harmlessly through her and embedded into the wall right where Sherlock's head had been seconds before. Time sped back up.
"Police!" Officers of the Yard were yelling, flooding the hallway. Marie hardly paid any attention to them as she shuddered a bit as her soul filled back up. She thought that by removing that cosmic force inside her she'd go back to normal, but the universe had simply filled that spot back up. Wiggling her fingers to make sure she was still ok, she mildly watched the officers taking no time at all to cuff Deborah and practically drag her out as she continued to scream and yell about the ghost of Anna. Sherlock, in the meantime, had stood up briskly, nudged the zip-ties under the bed, and was straightening his coat as Lestrade finally got to him.
"You'll need this as well." He said in way of greeting, presenting the DI with Anna's mobile phone. As Lestrade spluttered and yelled at Sherlock, gesturing wildly to the knife still quivering in the wall, Marie turned to Anna with the intent to thank her for distracting Deborah, but the words died in her throat. Anna was staring off into the distance, an odd look on her face. Confused, Marie flashed through a few spectrums, trying to see what she was looking at. She settled on the spectrum visible to Sherlock as a last resort, confused when she again didn't find anything.
"Anna?" Marie prompted, confused at her actions. Was she feeling alright? Marie knew that there were a lot of officers (humans) around, but Anna didn't look like she was struggling to remain in control, not at all. Instead, she looked…peaceful.
"Marie, what is that? Is that- oh," Anna said softly, almost dreamily, her eyes not leaving the fixed spot she could see and Marie could not. A lump formed in Marie's throat as Anna took an unsure step forward. She couldn't' see what Anna was looking at, but she knew perfectly well what it was. Anna had found that eternal peace- she'd probably seen it as soon as the cuffs were put on Deborah. She was free; she'd been granted rest and harmony for all eternity.
"Go to it, Anna." Marie told her quietly, and Anna barely nodded in agreement; all of her focus was captured by what she was seeing.
"Thank you, Marie," She whispered as she walked towards it, starting to become even more vaporous, her body shimmering. She'd made it halfway across the room before she vanished completely. Marie just stood there, tears in her eyes, staring at where Anna had gone, completely ignoring how Lestrade, Sherlock, and then, after a good two hours, the officers left. She was frozen with want, staring after something she couldn't have. Anna's murder was solved, hers wasn't. Marie was doomed to walk the Earth forever, while Anna was granted a peaceful rest. For the longest time, Marie could only think about if she even wanted to find the resting ground. While it was true that she was suffering on Earth, she still didn't want to leave. She had Mycroft to look after, she had Sherlock to stay with. As much as she knew she was supposed to find peace, she wasn't sure if she wanted too, and that scared her.
When she finally pulled herself away, it was evening. Deciding to check on Sherlock, she found him at home, flopped halfway out of his armchair with a book on his face. She couldn't help but crack a smile, even though she was still angry with him for being stupid and going alone. Even though she would always be there for him, she might not always make it in time. She might not always be so powerful (she'd gotten lucky being able to sun herself before the case started), and she had a feeling that Sherlock was going to rely heavily on her. She didn't like it. "Marie!" Sherlock suddenly exclaimed, whipping the book off of his face, making her start. He reached a long arm out towards the thermometer she hadn't noticed taped to the side table adjacent to him and tore the tape off. "Upon your arrival the room dropped two degrees Celsius in temperature." He announced, reading the thermometer with blistering speed.
"Hello to you too, Sherlock," Marie told him, crossing her arms. He saw her expression and scrambled out of the chair, placing the thermometer back onto the side table.
"Marie, I owe you an apology. I expected my first murder case to go in a smoother manner and I did not intend for Deborah Loch to be as…forceful as she was. Why I am thankful for your involvement, I am sorry for putting so much pressure on you so quickly, especially when this case was so…uncomfortable for you." Sherlock fired off all at once, treating Marie to the best puppy dog eyes she'd seen from him in a while. She was ready to continue to be angry at him, but the fact that he had recognized his mistake instantly and had then apologized made her feel better. Besides, she knew that Sherlock was a capable man- he usually could take care of himself. "Where is Anna?" He asked conversationally, seeing her acceptance of his apology just by reading her physical appearance alone.
"She moved on," Marie told him, and a quick look of disbelief crossed Sherlock's face. "Gone forever- off to eternal harmony." She finished heavily, flopping onto his couch, solidifying just in time. What she didn't see, was Sherlock's face morphing to a bit of misery as she turned away. She had forgotten that she'd been visible to Sherlock as she watched Anna cross over. Sherlock had seen that emotion, that grief and confusion, on Marie's face. Even though Sherlock was a genius, he couldn't fix that for Marie. He smoothed his face into a nice façade as to not alert Marie to his thoughts and, deep down, to his shame. "Congratulations, Sherlock," She told his mostly unreadable expression, flashing him a brief smile, jerking him out of his thoughts.
"I couldn't do the same for you," He said very quietly, expression clouding over despite his efforts to keep it smooth. Marie frowned and went vaporous, sliding through the couch and out of sight before reappearing at his side.
"Sherlock, stop that. You tried for me, once. I already told you that if I ever get another chance that you can help me- but there is nothing you can do. So don't beat yourself up over it, alright? You should be celebrating your first successful murder. Now, tell me all about what Lestrade did. No- what did Donovan do? That woman hates you." Marie chuckled, and only after Sherlock had treated her to another searching look did he relent. They spent the rest of the evening talking about Sherlock's first murder, how Lestrade had nearly popped a vein in his forehead until he realized that Sherlock had completely solved the case in less than 24 hours, and how Donovan had gotten so angry with Lestrade and Sherlock she had stormed out of the Yard.
Over time, Lestrade gave Sherlock more cases, more murders. Even though Marie didn't have to save his life on every single case, she did accompany him on every murder. Sometimes, the spirit had already moved on. Most times, the poor victim was still around and willing for Marie and Sherlock to help them. On a few rare occasions, some ghosts were so angry at their predicament that they had tried to attack Marie for approaching them, which had always livened things up a bit. Marie had always escaped unscathed, however, and that only added to the excitement of solving cases. Sherlock ripped through all types of murders- to ones that he solved within minutes of looking at the body, to ones that took him almost two weeks to solve. No matter how long it took him, Sherlock always solved the case and the ghost always passed on.
Although Sherlock wouldn't admit it, it was a nice feeling. He liked helping people, liked seeing the happiness on Marie's face when she told him that another ghost had found peace. It was an invisible reward he received for the work he did, and he loved it. At the same time, every success was also a reminder of his one failure. In secret, he requested the evidence from Marie's cold case and kept them locked away in his room. He resisted the urge to take them out all the time, especially the bullets, remembering all too well that Marie could be with him at any time and he wouldn't know it. That reminder that he still had one cold case irked him. As happy as Marie was every time they sent a ghost on to rest, he could see the sadness in her eyes. He knew that as happy as she was working with him she was still suffering, even though she hid it. Marie had told him once before that even though Sherlock was her friend she was alone, and he had never understood that statement better than he did then.
As Sherlock began to become filled with ennui at the never ending stream of dull, pointless murders and crimes that filled a few years of his life, his mind wandered back to drugs at first. They had taken away his boredom so quickly. Despite that, he also remembered how quickly they had ripped apart his life. Knowing better than to go back to them, his mind turned to Marie, to a distraction that reminded him of his morals. While his actual time with Marie was the only 'human' contact Sherlock allowed himself to receive, Marie had a life outside of her time with him. She would be gone for sometimes weeks at a time traveling the world and gathering energy. She would still bring him back strange artifacts to fill his flat with (he still had the cactus, now almost fully grown, that resided in his guest bedroom). Marie had other friends, other ghost friends, who could relate to her better. They understood her loneliness when he could not, not completely. It was for those reasons that she wouldn't always be by his side. It was most likely healthier for both of them to be apart sometimes, but Sherlock still wanted a reminder of her presence even when Marie could not be there.
It didn't take long for him to find an elegant solution, and it didn't take him long to obtain his reminder.
What did take a long time, was for Marie to notice, which interested him greatly. Part of his want for a reminder was a want to run an experiment on Marie. She had always refused to let him run experiments on her powers or even her being ("It's against the law, Sherlock!"). Sherlock was embarrassed to think that it had taken him so long to come up with an experiment he could run that wasn't against ghost law. It was still highly illegal, but he had the best intentions and was the neatest and best thief in the world. He spent only one night in Oxford to get what he needed, and left things almost exactly as he found it. His treasure safely in hand, Sherlock waited. He expected an immediate outward reaction in Marie, but when she didn't instantly return from wherever she was (exploring the Baltic Sea), he gathered interesting data: changes made to her actual remains had no effect on her ghostly being.
With that in mind, Sherlock waited patiently until Marie returned from her journey in the Baltic. When she did, she was in a glorious mood that lifted even Sherlock's spirits. She whirled about his dark and dirty little flat, sparkling like a sun she'd picked up so much light. She deposited an ancient fossilized rock on his kitchen table with a flourish while describing her trip. Sherlock simply sat patiently in his armchair, his reminder and treasure in his arms, and made polite, vague comments, just enough to keep Marie talking. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, she plopped onto his couch, still grinning, and looked at him clearly for the first time.
Her smile fell within seconds.
"Sherlock, that's a skull," She noted, tone slightly confused as she sat up and leaned closer to examine it. "Is it real? Where did you get it?" She asked, and he cocked an eyebrow, completely fascinated. She didn't even recognize her own remains! It was true that she didn't spend much time in her coffin, but he thought for sure that she would retain some sort of proclivity to her own decaying body. Marie looked at his expression, confused, and understood a moment later as Sherlock ran a thumb up from the occipital bone of the skull up to the parietal section, sending her a pointed look. "You," she hissed, bolting to her feet. "You didn't!" She yelled, pointing accusingly at Sherlock.
"Marie, there is no reason to be upset. You clearly don't have any lingering ties to it," Sherlock said blithely, examining her skull again, as he had numerous times over the past few days. He knew its exact specifications, everything from the size of her jaw to the dimensions of her now empty cranium. It was the perfect slightly friendly reminder for him to be the person Marie wanted him to be, as well as to look over the evidence from her cold case as often as he physically could, until he had every known fact memorized.
"No reason to be upset?!" Marie cried, the room growing dark at the corners and the window panes starting to rattle. The room grew icy cold. "You stole my skull! You desecrated my grave, and for what? For what?!" She practically screamed before blasting apart, vanishing from view. Sherlock stared at the exact spot she'd left, fascinated as the dark shadows she'd conjured disappeared. The temperature slowly began to rise as he turned his new skull friend to face him.
"I don't think she took it very well," He told it, wondering slightly if it was morbid to talk to 'Marie' about Marie. Curious.
Two weeks later, Sherlock was no longer curious; he was worried and ashamed. He had expected Marie to return, to calmly ask him why he'd stolen her skull, and then they'd talk it out and be done with it. However, Marie had not returned, and the time she was gone screamed at Sherlock's sense of guilt until he was biting his lip to keep from calling her. It took him two weeks to get over his pride and finally call her. It took a few tries, his voice getting progressively louder, until Marie suddenly appeared with a flash, glowering inches from his face. "What. Do. You. Want. Sherlock?" Marie hissed at him, folding her arms and shooting him such a poisonous look that Sherlock had to drop his gaze.
"I wanted to apologize…again," Sherlock added, realizing that he was doing a lot of that lately. Marie cocked an eyebrow to show she was listening, but her icy façade didn't change. "After the Hubert case I had the thought that I often times act in a way that is not necessarily…good. It's not good, and usually I look to you for guidance although I am usually too proud to admit it," the words were flowing now, and Marie was still listening, so Sherlock threw it all on the line, "and so to find a way to remind myself to have morals, I came upon the best solution- a reminder of you. I'll admit that I was also curious to see what would happen to you if your body was," he swallowed, seeing Marie's suddenly furious look, "changed, but my main intent of taking your skull was to have you with me when you aren't with me." Sherlock summed up lamely. Why was it that with any other person he was the cold, articulate and definitely more intelligent member of a conversation, but when it was with Marie he was reduced to almost being a child? It was a phenomenon that he craved and feared at the same time.
Marie stared at him for the longest time before her expression wavered. She sighed, turning away from him to walk over to his mantelpiece, where her own skull was grinning blankly at her. She raised a finger, solidified it, and then touched the bleached bone gently, the edges of her flickering slightly as she felt the smooth texture. "Did it have to be the skull?" Marie asked finally, still examining the offending object, and Sherlock felt a pang of sharp relief. She was forgiving him; they would remain friends. During the two weeks that Marie had vanished Sherlock was terrified that he'd jeopardized his one and only friendship forever. Now that he could see her forgiveness, his knees felt almost weak.
"Would you like me to return it?" He asked quietly, joining her at the mantel. She gazed at it a moment longer, a light but sad smile lifting the edge of her lip.
"No, I don't think so. If you willingly went out to try and find some morals then I don't want you to forget that. Keep my skull, if it makes you happy. It's not like I'm using it." Marie told him, turning to meet his gaze. "Just ask next time, alright?" She begged, and Sherlock let out a weak chuckle.
"I promise," He told her, and Marie let out a lighter, happier sigh.
"Good." She replied, and, just like that, they were once again friends.
Sorry for not updating in a while- I've been busy! I hope you enjoyed this bit- and my piece with the skull. I just HAD to make it belong to Marie. I mean, come on, wouldn't you?
Stay tuned for more!