Warning: some references to drug use.

Chapter 26: The Secret Room

Sherlock arrived home with Isabella to find Mycroft sitting in what used to be Sherlock's seat. "What do you want, Mycroft?"

"I know what you've been up to."

"Oh, you know what I've been up to, but you can't find out what Moriarty's up to? How convenient."

"You can't keep going like this, Sherlock. You need to be careful."

"Or what?"

"I can't protect you forever."

"Since when do you protect me?" Sherlock all but spat the words at Mycroft.

Mycroft looked down slightly then he stood and continued, "Very well, Sherlock, if you want to be that way I can't stop you. However, I thought I should tell you that I've been reassigned to the states. I leave tomorrow."

Sherlock shrugged, "why would I care?"

Mycroft didn't bother to say anything else as he left the flat.

-A multiple months later-

Sherlock ran through the streets to avoid the police officers that had been chasing him; he had to get away, far away. He didn't really care where anymore, just somewhere that wasn't here. No more cases, no more anything, no more phone calls laced with pity, no more Lestrade trying to get him clean and especially no more drug raids. Drugs were expensive, what did Lestrade think he was doing flushing them? Lestrade was such a fool, he didn't understand; he could never understand. Sherlock needed the drugs to keep the thoughts of John from burning, he had to catch Moriarty! That was the most important thing.

Sherlock thumped into a large man, fell to the ground and nearly took the large man with him. Sherlock turned and looked up to find Sebastian Moran staring down at him with a smile. "What happened to your hair?" Sherlock asked gesturing to Moran's normally jet black hair as he stood.

Moran pointed to the symbol of white growing amidst his black hair, "This?"

Sherlock nodded, "obviously."

"Still not my biggest fan after all we've been through?"

Sherlock simply stared ice at him.

"Well, if you must know it's from a process known as cold branding. It's when-"

Sherlock put his hand up, "I know. Obvious, but what happened?"

"Jim-"

"Moriarty." Sherlock corrected.

"Jim," Moran asserted, "was kind enough to forgive me after I betrayed him. But he needed to know that I wasn't trying to trick him, so this was the one and only thing he asked."

"Nope. It's not the only thing he's asked you for."

"Everything else I volunteered, I offered."

"I'm sure he made it seem that way, made you think it was your idea. But it never was."

Moran scowled, "Don't try to twist things, you don't know. What would you know? You've been high for the past, what, five months?"

Sherlock shrugged, "Lost count." The two men stood in silence for a few moments before Sherlock continued, "So he broke you then?"

Moran shook his head, "No, he fixed me. I was broken, but not now."

Sherlock could tell this conversation was going to go in circles, he didn't want to deal with it. "Ah, I see. Well, isn't that good for you." Sherlock mocked a sarcastic smile, "Do you happen to know where Moriarty is? I'd kind of like to murder him, if you don't mind."

Moran laughed and crossed his arms over his chest, "I do know where he is, and I know you're not going to kill him."

"Is that what you know?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes and leaned back slightly.

Moran nodded, "Yes, when it comes down to it you don't want to."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, this was like talking to an overly religious person who would only talk about how great their faith was in an attempt to convert everyone around them. "Sure, sure. Just take me to him and I'm sure I'll prove you right."

Moran smiled, "You should be able to read the evidence off me to deduce where he is."

Sherlock looked Moran up and down; there was plenty of evidence there, but Sherlock couldn't make anything of it.

"Or do you just want to score some of this?" Moran held up a small bag of cocaine and raised it well above his head when Sherlock tried to snatch it from his grasp. Moran laughed and Sherlock took a few steps back to regain his composure. "We'll be seeing you around, Sherlock. Even you should be able to find us." Moran paused, "sooner or later, anyway." Then began to walk away from Sherlock then turned back to him to add almost as an afterthought, "And don't forget, we can always find you."

Sherlock scowled as he watched Moran's back retreat from him; of course Sherlock could find them, what was Moran insinuating? Sherlock tried to follow Moran but was quickly given the slip. Sherlock wanted more cocaine; his mind was strewn with thoughts of the drug and of John. He wished he could burn the thoughts out of his mind with cocaine, but the thoughts of John were persistent; more persistent than those of cocaine.

He found himself missing Isabella; maybe she would let him see her, if he phoned and asked nicely? Sherlock dialed Harry's number and waited for her to answer, when she finally did answer she didn't sound very friendly.

"Can I see her? Please?" Sherlock held his mobile to his ear awkwardly, his other arm folded across his chest.

"No. You can't."

"Please, I just… I just need to see her." There was silence on the other end of the line, "Please, I'm sorry about the last time; it won't happen again, I promise."

Harry's voice was surprisingly gentle, "Are you clean?"

Sherlock licked his lips, "Yes."

"Liar." Harry scolded him and her voice took on that firm tone again that he was so used to hearing, "You can't come here. You're not allowed to see her. Go to rehab, get clean. But don't come here. If you come here I'll call the cops." Harry hated being in this position, she didn't like all the responsibility that had been thrust on her and she didn't like outliving her little brother.

Sherlock felt cold at the sudden click disconnecting their call. He wanted to go home, but he didn't have a home anymore. Mrs. Hudson had finally had enough and evicted him; he wasn't sure how long ago.

-Yet more months pass-

Sherlock was lying in an abandoned doorway in an alley. He was out of cocaine and his mind was itching with thoughts of the drug and thoughts of John. Two men approached him, he didn't pay them any attention; they didn't matter, they couldn't give him what he wanted. The men stopped in front of him, he looked up from their shoes to look at their faces. "Moran and Moriarty, how lovely to see you both." Sherlock scowled at them, he looked so long for any trace of Moriarty and now he stood in front of him so casually. Moriarty thought that Sherlock could do him no harm, Sherlock hated him.

"Oh, I'm surprised that you recognized us." Moriarty smiled down at Sherlock, looked up to Moran then returned his attention to Sherlock, "How've you been? It's been a while."

Sherlock gave a sarcastic smile, "Oh, I've been wonderful."

"How'd you like to come home with us?" Moriarty did all the talking while Moran simply stood next to him silently. Sherlock scowled and Moriarty took out a small bag containing cocaine, "I have plenty of this back at my place."

Sherlock looked up the small bag and his mind swam with thoughts of relief; he bit his lip, maybe just a little more. Sherlock managed to stand and reached for the small bag, Moriarty removed it from his reach, "ah-ah-ah, no darling, you'll have to come home with me first."

Moriarty smiled a cruel grin and Sherlock collapsed to his knees and hugged Moriarty's legs, "Okay, fine. Just let me have some."

Sherlock followed Moriarty home and had his share of cocaine, his mind swam and he was free again. He roamed the halls of his mind palace to find the secret room he had tried so hard to keep hidden from everyone, he entered it. With the cocaine he didn't mind opening that door to go inside; to go inside and visit with John. Just a shade of the beauty that was John, but it was the best that even Sherlock could do. He retreated into his mind palace so he wouldn't care what Moriarty did anymore.

A/N: Sorry it's a short chapter, and kind of an abrupt ending? I don't know. Please review so I have some idea of how I did! I would love to know your opinions so I can improve and such. Thanks for sticking with me so far, thanks for reading, following and the favorites. Let me know if you guys want the alternate ending chapters. :) Also, I have a vague idea for a sequel? Might not be as good just because John's dead, but if you guys are interested in either the alternate ending or the sequel let me know :)

Also, I'm changing my penname from jprofilidunnowatImdoinghere to yoursupervillain (it's just a little less gibberish-y)

Head Canons for this story:

JOHN DRESSES UP AS A BEE FOR ISABELLA'S FIRST HALLOWEEN AND SHERLOCK WILL BE A PIRATE, ISABELLA WOULD BE A CAT… does England have Halloween?

When Sherlock was little he wanted to be a father. Mycroft would tell him that pirates don't make good fathers, and his little heart would break. He always wanted a daughter named Isabella but decided against it because of sentiment and because he was never attracted to women, or anyone really. (I have the head canon that Sherlock is demi-sexual with a military kink)

Molly takes Isabella to work with her and shows her all the different brains she's working with and awkwardly talks to her.

When they first harvest the honey, Sherlock will get stung a bunch of times, but only he will get stung just because he's over enthused, when John tries the honey he compliments Sherlock and Sherlock just beams with pride.

Sherlock will make John read things to him sometimes. John will get annoyed.