Sorry for the tardy, everybody-I've already started on the next one though-woohoo!
You guys have been so awesome to me-thank you all so much for the reviews, you have no idea how much they fuel me to write!
So a huge thank you to Alexandria Keating, Moos (guest-I'm sorry about your Valentines, if it makes you feel any better-I had the same situation!), Anonymous (guest), ArtyDiane, Aviatress, Miam (guest), and theAwesomeReader-I simply cannot thank you all enough, thank you thank you!
Also thank you to all those favoriting and following-hope you're enjoying!
Let's get to this here story!
*Someday when Rainbow is an adult*
Rainbow Jr: "Mommy-tell me a story!"
Rainbow: "Once upon a time, in the magical land of Fanfiction, your mother-achem, a princess- ran into someone who knew someone who knew some one who knew someone's cousin who knew Benedict Cumberbatch-achem, a handsome prince, and so I-um, the princess- was lucky enough to meet the one dude's cousin who in turn introduced her to Benedict-achem, the prince-and some magical connection happened: they fell in love, got married, had a beautiful child, and lived happily ever after!"
Benedict: *peeking from around the door-eavesdropping* "And THAT'S how I met your mother!" *cheesy wink*
But that isn't what happened.
And I don't own Sherlock.
Oh gawd, I'm such a loner.
Enough of that, enjoy!
Seasonal Sherlock Spec-eall! (trying to sound French... didn't really work.)
Merry Christmas Eve, my darling... =26 letters + 4 punctuation marks =30 characters =3,000 words
"GodDAMMIT!" John furiously exclaimed into the pouring storm- his mind whirring to a blur with countless thoughts for a solution to the quickly growing problem.
Snatching Sherlock's wrist and directing him to follow, the doctor immediately sprinted to the parking garage's entrance safety bar, barely skimming its rusted surface as he leaped over-gun clenched in hand.
"John-take a left," Sherlock directed, not more than three steps behind as they dashed past the empty elevator shaft. The doctor skidded on his heels to make a ninety degree turn to the left, not surprised to find a hidden staircase-undoubtedly leading up to the roof.
One corridor after the other-sharply turning what felt to be countless corners just to climb up endless staircases. John couldn't help but curse under his breath at the fact he couldn't push his body to go any faster than he already was. Little did he know Sherlock was thinking the exact same thing.
Sudden desperate cries of their names that echoed off the pale walls pierced the detectives' hearts, only further fueling the fire of rage for their enemy.
Slipping around one last corner, John froze and practically choked in horror at the sight of the grey gravestone-colored metallic door *clicking* and locking shut. The water trickling down the door's window indicated it was indeed the exit to the roof.
Instantaneously taking a running start, John rammed his upper side into the door-which made a creaking noise in response. "For Christ's sake…" the doctor grumbled, feverishly rattling the door handle while shoving into the door in an attempt to break it open completely.
"John-step back," Sherlock ordered, cocking his handgun and slowly stepping backwards down the staircase in a solemn fashion.
Hearing the grave undertone of his voice, John exhaled deeply and moved aside, leaning against the bar and massaging his now aching shoulder. "Locked tight-I don't see how we're going to be able to-holy shi-!"
John practically flipped backward over the edge of the railing trying to avoid Sherlock, who dashed right past and slammed into the door just as the doctor had- but this time using his handgun to forcefully snap the doorknob clean off the metal slate and sending it clattering down the staircase.
Without another word, Sherlock grasped John by the sleeve and ran out the door-now squeaking on its hinges, allowing the pouring rain inside.
Xxxxx
"N-no!"
His touch was cold-a chilling smooth surface that almost burned her skin-like fresh ice.
But his eyes were colder…a frozen, barren wasteland-where no shred of light touched its freezing surface.
"Please! P-please let m-me go!"
Eyes that glinted diabolically at the sound of her beseeching words, and elatedly drank in the sight of her futile struggling against his death grip around her neck.
"Let m-me GO!"
"Hush." Moriarty suddenly hissed. He paused on the second staircase and listened intently-hearing the sound of running footsteps and shuffling persons in the distant corridors to their location.
"Uncle Sher-Sherlock! HELP!" Lily screamed desperately-her voice echoing off the bare walls. "Up here! Uncle Joh-!" she wheezed, unable to finish on account of Moriarty's hand suddenly clenching her throat so tightly.
"Should've knooooowwn…" he sang with a chuckle, quickly making a turn and taking his hostage once more through the door and onto the soaking-wet rooftop. "I've never seen your precious 'uncles' so fast and determined before…" he practically giggled, unceremoniously flinging her petite body across the rooftop-skidding over the wet pavement and eventually ramming mercilessly into the cement ledge with a sickening snap.
The harsh raindrops were little daggers on her sore skin and open wounds, the water blending with her blood to make pink splatters on the concrete as she trembled there-cold, broken, and breathless.
"This is going to be quite enjoyable…" Moriarty muttered, his voice barely audible through the fast and heavy raindrops that were continuously snapping against the concrete. "…to see the horrified look on their faces the split-second they take notice of your blood and brains painted against this entire rooftop." With a dark chuckle, he casually slid out a handgun from his overcoat pocket and aimed the barrel at Lily's forehead as he stalked closer.
"Any last words, my little princess?" he spat, grinding his teeth together as he grinned wickedly, his finger teasingly pulling back the trigger at an unbearably slow rate.
Her lungs still screaming for air after the collision with the cement ledge, Lily could only choke out a small whimper in response, finding it agonizingly impossible to move with fear completely freezing her aching nerves.
"No? That's alright-you'll screams will suffice just fine…" he cackled, staring her down with his intimidating gaze, adoring the obvious fear reflecting in her glossy sapphire eyes.
In a split second, the door to the rooftop was burst open, screaming on its hinges in protest.
And in a split-second, a fateful trigger was pulled back-and the sound of a sharp gunshot echoed off the surrounding empty buildings.
"NO!" John exclaimed. He immediately felt himself become light-headed and heavy at the same time, intense fear and anger engulfing his body as the gunshot's sound hauntingly reverberated in his skull, afraid to look to its origin.
Forcing his eyes open, the doctor was surprised to find his flatmate's gun emitting a small puff of gunpowder smoke, indicating exactly where the shot came from. Shifting his gaze in front of them, John felt relief wash over him at the sight of the blood seeping through Moriarty's coat, but found himself taken aback by the condition Lily was in-she looked so much worse this close, he almost didn't want to take a step further.
But Sherlock wouldn't allow him to avoid such horrors, as the detective roughly pushed John forward alongside with him, looking bold as ever with his knuckles whitening due to the grip on his handgun. "It ends now." He barked.
"This was my good arm you know," Jim chuckled, unfazed as he uncomfortably held his bleeding shoulder and slowly swiveled on his heels to face the detectives, not three yards away by this point. "No reason to be so feisty when I've been so nice to invite you here…little Lily here has been quite anxious for your arrival. Too bad you came late." He seethed with a Cheshire Cat-like smile that unnerved even Sherlock as he gestured to the coughing and bleeding girl struggling to even sit up.
"Go to HELL!" John roared, taking two long strides before powerfully swinging his fist to collide with his enemy's chin with a sickening snap before Moriarty could even process what John had shouted.
Stumbling backward, he gripped his now throbbing jaw and spat blood onto the concrete. "How about you come with me?!" he cackled, painfully lifting his injured arm and shooting multiple rounds at the doctor, who-much to his displeasure-crouched to the ground and barrel-rolled to a safe distance before the bullets reaches his position. Damned army soldier…
"I'm afraid you are quite late for your arrival already," a familiar deep voice hissed from behind, just as a lengthy arm snaked around his neck and mercilessly thrust him to the unforgiving ground with a crack. His vision clear one second, then blurry the next, Moriarty gave the detective towering above him a bloody grin as he coughed painfully.
"How…sweet of you…to be so concerned over my schedule-keeping…" he rasped between coughs, giggling uncontrollably as he met Sherlock's icy gaze. "So you do…keep me in that… itty-bitty heart of yours somewhere, do you?"
After a glance to Lily's shivering form, the detective practically growled. Pure hatred flashed across Sherlock's eyes as he menacingly lifted Moriarty by the collar and slammed him into the metallic door with a *clang*. "Your being has never so much as scratched the surface of that place," he spat, his grip tightening and gaze narrowing.
Meanwhile, after witnessing Sherlock's impressive takedown of their enemy, John turned his attention to the sound of familiar footsteps-feeling a mixture of guilt and joy as Lily ran to him with complete adoration in her voice. "Uncle John!"
"Thank god-" Running to meet with her halfway, the doctor immediately scooped Lily into his arms and held her protectively close, feeling her warm tears soak through his sweater as she pressed herself to his shoulder. Feeling odd fatherly instincts take over, John slightly rocked them back and forth as thoughts whirred through his already dizzy brain. Though she was the strongest little girl he knew-she was seven…seven, for God's sakes. "Lily-oh god, shhh-it's alright, I've got you-" he soothed, closing his eyes in relief as he buried his face in the crook of her neck lovingly. "Oh, Christ… it's alright. Lily -"
The nauseating sounds of what he could only imagine were breaking bones caused John to open his eyes, a bit surprised to see Sherlock taking out uncontrollably fury on their wounded enemy-tossing him to the ground effortlessly-like a limp puppet snipped of its strings.
And the puppet was laughing anyway.
"Sherlock-" John interjected, watching as his flatmate ruthlessly lifted Moriarty once more and delivered a sturdy punch to the chest-a sickening snap emitting as he did so. "Sherlock! Stop!"
Moriarty simply chuckled, blood dripping from the sides of his lips and through his nose, which John deduced was quite broken.
It was obvious Sherlock was past the point of rage, and he knew interfering was out of the question, watching his friend slam their enemy into the door once again before pulling back for another swing. John turned away and held Lily to his chest in an attempt to hide from the scene altogether. "Sherlock-stop!" he called, "Don't go too far!" He couldn't imagine Sherlock doing so, but from what he had just witnessed, he felt anything was possible.
More snaps and cracks, then the sound of the door to the rooftop swaying open.
"Sherlock-Sherlock, darling-he's not going anywhere!" a familiar honeyed-voice informed. "Sherlock-enough!"
Turning, John sighed in relief to see none other than Mummy Holmes herself with Mycroft, pulling at his flatmate to release Moriarty from his death grip.
"Sherlock-listen to me!" Mycroft barked, forcefully tearing one of his brother's arms away, almost fighting against him to keep it in position. Sherlock's gaze never tore from Jim's smiling one. "It's. Over."
"Sherlock-love, love look at me." Violet cupped a hand to his cheek, turning his head and forcing their gazes to meet. "Let go…"
His chest rapidly rising and falling, Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but found no words would come. He tried again, but stopped, staring into the warm understanding eyes of his mother. "Let…go…" she whispered.
Exhaling sharply as if coming out of a trance, Sherlock did just that-watching Moriarty hit the cement ground once more, the corners of his bloody lips twitching upward to form an all too joyful -looking smile.
"Leave it…to…Mother, to put you in…your place…" he coughed, blood spurting from his mouth as he began laughing hysterically. "Just…can't…kill me…can you?" he cackled.
"Disgusting." Violet snorted, scrunching her nose as she whipped out a sleek handgun and pointed it at Moriarty's forehead.
"Mummy-!" Mycroft started.
"Relax, darling." She assured, moving her aim to the side and pulling the trigger, the bullet wedging into his other shoulder. With a grunt of agony, Jim coughed in pain. "Laugh again and I may accidentally miss the less-important areas." She threatened, stepping back and pulling Sherlock with her.
Moriarty watched with a bloody smile as John joined the Holmes', Lily in his arms-a frightened look in her glossy eyes. But it was Sherlock's unwavering gaze that gave him pride-the frosty orbs looked as though they were searching for something that was not there.
With a chuckle, he realized his theory was official.
He was a complete monster in their eyes…all of them…
And finally, even his favorite detective…
Mycroft quickly took notice of this and harshly jabbed his cane into Moriarty square in the chest. "I guarantee this will not be the slightest bit humorous in the morning…" he stated gravely, knowing unconsciousness would take over their enemy any moment. "Then again…" he smirked, watching Jim's gaze become much colder. "I'm sure I will find it quite amusing…"
Xxxxx
"No-Harold. Get out-now."
"Carol-listen to yourself, this is absurd!"
"I. Said. Out." Carol hissed, anger boiling inside her as she twisted her engagement ring and eventually slipped it off. "Don't you dare come within five hundred feet of this household-or my children." She spat, heatedly chucking the ring at the man standing in the doorframe. It bounced off his leather jacket and *clink-clinked* on the tile floor, slowing to a steady roll and circling to land in front of his feet.
"Okay-NOW I'm starting to get angry," Harold barked, raising his muscular arm to land a powerful slap across Carol's face.
With a squeak of pain, she looked back to find Anthony and Jarrod watching from the staircase, pain written on their pale faces as they looked on, deadly afraid of Harold going any further.
"Tony-Jarrod, honey, go upstairs." She whispered.
"Don't move," Harold countermanded.
"Go on, I'll take care of this. I promise." Carol weakly smiled, adoration written in her glistening eyes as the boys chose to follow her out of love rather than follow Harold out of fear.
"Oh, you guys are gonna get it for this-you listen to ME," he roared, clenching his fists as he advanced toward the staircase-but Carol stepped in front of him before he made it to the bottom step.
"Get out-and never, ever, come back." She pointed to the open door-her stance not wavering for a second as he coldly stared her down. "I never want to see your damned face again."
"You'll be lucky if you get to see at all-" he seethed, clipping his ex-fiancé in the abdomen, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the cry of pain she emitted.
Stumbling and leaning against the staircase rail to stand, Carol coughed, "Get….out…"
She had seen him angry-his dark eyes would flare, and his muscular arms would contract just before the pain would start…and afterwards his chocolate orbs were warm, and his tone loving as he would apologize….Empty words…that's all they were.
"G-get OUT!" Carol cried, mustering ever bit of courage she had to slap him with a shivering hand. "Now!"
"You bitch!" he barked, roughly kicking her to the wall with uncontrollable anger. "I have every right to be here-"
Sliding down the wall in defeat, Carol prepared herself for the worst, knowing a macabre scene and another layer of pain was about to be served…she was trapped. Again.
"Actually, the only right you possess at the moment is to remain silent." A familiar voice snapped from the doorway as numerous policemen flooded into the foyer. "Harold Evans, you're under arrest under multiple charges of domestic violence, illegal substance dealing, and from some files I dug up- I found manslaughter's available on the table as well."
"The hell-?!" Harold spat, flinching uncomfortably at the icy handcuffs sliding and locking onto his wrists. "Oh you're going to get it for this, bitch!" he yelled to Carol, who buried her face in her hands to hide from his menacing eyes as she felt hot tears sting her eyes.
"Get him out of here."
And with that, Harold was forcefully dragged outside and into the backseat of a police car, never to return to the flat.
"Oh…my god…" Carol whimpered, finally letting the floodgates open and allowing the tears to stream down her face as she shakily clenched her fists to her knees.
"Carol-"
She looked up through teary eyes to find her savior kneeling down next to her and taking her hand in his. "G-Greg…I'm…I'm so-so…s-sorry…" she choked.
"Carol, don't ever be sorry for that bastard," he told her sternly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "He's never going to hurt you again-I promise."
"I…I was…I've been s-so wrong, Greg, about everything…" she shakily told him, desperately wishing for a way back to the past.
"Then we'll start anew, alright?" Lestrade smiled encouragingly, helping his sister to her trembling feet and hugging her to his shoulder. "We'll just begin again…"
"I'm so sorry…for everything." She whispered, knowing the universe blessed her with the most perfect brother she could ask for.
"And I forgive you for everything," he chuckled, gesturing for Donovan to get the car started as he pulled away. "Grab the kids and we'll get out of here for a bit." He told her, wiping a tear from her face with his thumb. "Sound good?"
Smiling, Carol found herself speechless for the second time that day.
Xxxxx
Small snowflakes leisurely drifted outside the windows of London, slowly coating the ground in a fresh white blanket-just in time for the holidays, as it always seemed to do.
Depending on who you ask, the holiday snowfall has a meaning. To some, it is the sign of a fresh year approaching; to others, a reminder of the existing miracles, and still to others, a simple change of weather.
But to those in 221B, it was something much more than all those combined. It was a signal of a new start-a snowfall to soak up the haunting rain of the weeks before that was stained with the blood of loved ones forever.
And to those in a secretive abode a few miles south, it was the exact same-just with a little addition to top it all off.
"Lily…Lily hun, wake up…"
Violet watched in complete adoration as the little one's sapphire eyes tiredly fluttered open, the blankets covering her from nose to toe.
"Morning, sweetheart…" she greeted, smoothing a hand over Lily's forehead and tucking stray hair behind her ear.
"Good morning Mummy," she smiled, yawning in mid-sentence.
Violet giggled at the sight before glancing outside the window. "Well would you look at that…" she grinned.
"It's snowing!" Lily squeaked gleefully, shooting straight up in bed.
"Just in time too-you know what today is?" Violet whispered excitedly.
She gasped in realization, "Merry Christmas Eve, Mummy!"
Violet giggled, kissing Lily's forehead lovingly. "Merry Christmas Eve, my darling…"
Well...that was a lot to digest, hm? Hope you enjoyed!
The next is how Christmas Eve is spent-and a new character to this Christmas special shall be introduced on Christmas morning! Any suggestions?
And words?
Or people who know people who know people's cousins that know Benedict Cumberbatch?
Reviews = Love!