CHAPTER SUMMARY:
Lestrade brings some news about the coroner in charge of Dim's autopsy as the media starts circulating worrisome news about the case.
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CHAPTER 37: The Coroner
The flat was unusually quiet as John and Sherlock returned home. Mrs. Hudson came up to check on them, having saw the news on the telly. She tried to cheer them up, keeping optimistic that everything will work out in the end, but neither Sherlock nor John could muster up much enthusiasm to match her's. Finally, after giving both men a hug, the landlady returned back to her own flat for the evening.
Sherlock sat himself down in his armchair as John made some tea for them. He clasped his hands together and rested it under his chin, going over all the data he had gathered today. Right now his life lingered on the testimony of a coroner and the ability of the NSY to find proof that the report regarding Dim's death had been tampered with. He didn't like those odds at all.
A small saucer holding a steaming cup of tea was placed beside him as he felt gentle fingers carding through his curls. He turned his head and looked up at the doctor.
"John?"
The short haired man felt his heart squeeze at the quiet voice, seemingly so small and tinted with fear.
"Yes, love?"
"What if...what if they can't prove the autopsy report was changed? What if they actually pin Dim's murder on me?"
John bent down and wrapped his arms around Sherlock, cradling his head and hugging him tightly.
"Shh...hush, that won't happen. I won't let that happen, and neither will Lestrade. We WILL prove you're innocent, Sherlock."
Nuzzling his face against John, Sherlock tried to make himself believe the words, but it was so hard. If he has to stand trial, he's not going to get a very sympathetic audience considering hybrids are more or less considered disposable to most people. They're going to look at him the same as they would any other animal that proved a threat to humans, a needle to his arm if they were feeling generous, a bullet between the eyes if they weren't in the mood to wait. His voice let out a soft whimper at the thought, hands clinging to John's shirt.
He didn't want that, he didn't want to die. Not now, not anymore. He had something to live for, someone to stay alive for. He liked his life now, he liked waking up with John beside him, all the time they spent together, their talks, their outings, their bickering, and of course when they made love. They would hold onto each other so tightly it felt like he couldn't breathe. With every kiss, every touch, John would tell him how much he means to the other man without needing any words.
If this had happened a year ago, he might have not cared about this turn of events. In the past, he might have even welcomed it as a final relief from his life, but not anymore. This is a battle and he can't afford to lose.
John felt Sherlock's body shaking in his arms and tightened his hold. He will do everything to restore Sherlock's reputation, he silently promised himself. It was already bad enough that the brunet had allowed himself to be pushed into the shadows following the breakthrough on the fight clubs case, even though there was no way Scotland Yard could have solved it without Sherlock's help, but now someone's trying to use that to implicate Sherlock in a murder? If Sherlock didn't want to be in the eye of the media and preferred keeping his role in helping NSY a secret, John can respect that wish, but he will certainly not tolerate such a blatant smear against someone so brilliantly amazing as Sherlock. Whether it was Moriarty or someone else, they will be in a world of pain once John Watson gets his hands on them.
"John?" Sherlock lifted his head to talk without being muffled.
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happens...I...I love you."
The older man allowed a smile to grace over his lips as he peered at the adoring eyes that looked back at him.
"I know, I love you, too, Sherlock. Whatever happens we'll face it together, yeah?"
Sherlock nodded his head just as John's phone rang. He pulled it out from his pocket and checked the caller. Greg Lestrade. Sherlock reached for his tea and took a sip as John answered the call.
"Yes, Greg?"
"John."
The steely tone immediately put John on guard as he straightened.
"Greg, what happened?"
"The coroner that I had Donovan check? The one that did the autopsy on the hybrid Sherlock is accused of murdering?"
"Yeah, did you bring him in? What did he say?"
"His name was Simon Bayers. He's missing, John. He's been missing for over two weeks now. One of his friends filed the missing persons report, said they haven't seen or heard from him for half a month."
The news settled like ice in John's stomach as he glanced over at Sherlock, who was watching him sharply. He had already figured out that whatever news Lestrade brought wasn't good, and his mouth turned down in a frown.
"He's...missing?! How?! How can he be missing? Was he kidnapped? Did you check his home? Did someone murder him too? What the hell is going on, Greg?!" The questions poured out from John in a jumble of words as he tried to make sense of this new development.
"His case wasn't reported to my department, but I interviewed some guys who are on that case. His house was clean, didn't look like any kind of struggle or break in, but they don't have any trail from him at all. No credit cards being used, no phone calls in the past two weeks, nothing. It's like he got swallowed up and disappeared."
"So you're telling me that the only bloke who can give us a clue as to why that autopsy report has been changed is now missing? And we've got nothing?!"
"John...I'm sorry. Look, I'm going to keep looking, all right? I've got some guys going back over Bayers' house to see if they can come up with any new leads as to his whereabouts, maybe get a fingerprint or something."
"Isn't there anything else we can do? Maybe we can pry the news stations and find out who their 'inside source' is."
"The media's closing ranks. They won't leak the name of their source short of us getting a warrant, we've tried. They claim they have to keep the identity a secret because their source is afraid Sherlock would go after them if their name is leaked. Hell we don't even know if it's a man, woman, hybrid, or more than one person."
"That's bullocks, Greg!"
"I know, I know. But listen, you guys stay put, all right? I don't want you two running around all over and getting into more trouble than you are. My boss has already tried to force my hand into arresting Sherlock on suspicion of murder, I don't want to give him more leverage to use."
John didn't even realize he had growled until he saw Sherlock's eyebrows go up. Attempting to hide it by clearing his throat, he took a deep breath and nodded into the phone.
"Fine. Keep us updated."
Sherlock pulled his feet up onto his chair, curling into a ball as he watched John hang up and drop the phone onto the table tiredly. The man rubbed the back of his neck and forced himself to not swipe his hand over the table top to knock everything to the floor in frustration. Perfect. Just bleeding perfect. Whoever had set up this little frame had clearly covered all their tracks.
"John? Are you OK?" Sherlock's voice penetrated John's thoughts and he quickly gave himself a little shake. Right, no time for a break down now, it's not HIS life on the line here.
"Yeah, yeah, fine. Apparently the coroner vanished into thin air so now we have no way to find out who tampered with the autopsy report. I can't believe this."
Sherlock chewed on his bottom lip as his mind worked. The coroner must have been either kidnapped or killed, which means he must have either did the tampering himself or at least knows something that would lead to the culprit.
"Sherlock, do you really think Moriarty is behind all of this?" John asked as he sat down in the chair facing the curly haired brunet.
"Yes, I do. And considering what Mycroft told us about him, I'm even more positive."
"So then, this is revenge?"
"No...I feel like it's more than that. If Mycroft's information is accurate, Moriarty has much grander schemes to run than to concern himself with killing off some random hybrids. He wouldn't have cared if we broke up his little game. I almost feel like he's...entertaining himself, that the fight club, the killings, and now this, it's all to keep himself distracted."
"Distracted? From what?"
Sherlock shrugged, "Boredom, I suppose. It's easy to become tediously bored, until it feels like your brain is cannibalizing itself just to not flat line."
John's eyebrows rose as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Is that what your brain feels like, sometime? That it's struggling not to flat line?"
Sherlock blinked and focused his eyes on John.
"There...have been times. Maybe...maybe that's also why I didn't mind the drugs back when Sebastian gave them to me. His ownership kept my body physically exhausted, but it held little interest for my mind. The drugs, on the other hand, the drugs would keep my mind quiet," guilt-ridden eyes lowered as Sherlock curled in on himself, ears and tail drooping listlessly.
For a few seconds, John was silent, watching. More than once he had thought it was a miracle Sherlock hadn't died at the hands of his previous owner, and now he realized death wasn't the only thing that had stalked Sherlock while Sebastian had owned him.
Standing up, the doctor gently tugged on Sherlock's legs until he lowered them to the floor. He reached out and grasped the two elegant hands in his, urging his lover to stand up too. Slowly, he led the way to the sofa and sat down on one end, helping Sherlock onto his lap.
As Sherlock pressed himself to John's chest, the doctor brushed back the curls that fell over his forehead. He nuzzled his nose into the soft brown locks, smelling the shampoo Sherlock used.
"We'll find Moriarty, we'll take him down," John whispered firmly into Sherlock's ear.
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The next morning found the two occupants of 221B Baker Street eating breakfast in the living room, eyes watching the telly. Some time over the course of last evening, the news had managed to identify John from the photos and, following that, confirmed that the name of the hybrid in question was Sherlock. Along with the new information, they released new photos of the two of them together plus a few of Sherlock at crime scenes. Scotland Yard had released a statement claiming they were investigating into these allegations that Sherlock had committed murder. When pressed as to why they hadn't brought him in for questioning already, Lestrade told the reporters that thus far, there wasn't enough evidence.
"They haven't gotten their hands on the autopsy," Sherlock commented offhandedly as he watched the screen, "If those reporters had read the autopsy they'd know Scotland Yard has more than enough evidence to bring me in."
"But whoever is behind this clearly had a hand in doctoring the report, why didn't they leak that to the press along with all this other stuff?"
Sherlock didn't reply, although in his mind he had an idea. This was like setting a trap and watching your prey run around with nowhere to go, yet still desperate to survive. It served no other purpose than for amusement's sake. He turned his attention back to the telly as a picture of John appeared.
"...John Watson, formerly a captain who had served in Afghanistan, is scheduled to appear as a key witness in the trial against Sebastian Wilkes in the coming months.
Although described as a pleasant and loyal man by friends and colleagues, there are rumours rising regarding his relationship with his hybrid. Sources who have witnessed the two of them in public have stated that they appear more like a couple than owner and pet, leading to an outpouring of disgust on social media websites denouncing such an arrangement as 'bizarre', 'unhealthy' and 'unnatural'. Some have even gone so far as to speculate that this kind of relationship can lead to hybrid rights activists eventually demanding legal marriage between humans and hybrids.
These accusations, along with the possibility that his hybrid had committed murder, will likely lead to Sebastian Wilkes' attorneys questioning the credibility of Mr. Watson as a witness. If Mr. Watson proves unable to provide testimony against Mr. Wilkes, it will be a major set back for Scotland Yard's case against the man accused of being at the head of the hybrid serial killings last year."
John and Sherlock listened grimly, each feeling rage and frustration rising inside themselves.
"John...maybe...," Sherlock's voice was unsteady as he stood up and walked to the window, peering outside to the streets below. There weren't any reporters out in front of their door, but he had no doubt there was paparazzi just waiting for either of them to step out. "Maybe I should leave. Even just for a while. At this rate, I'm going to drag you down with me, and if that happens you won't be able to testify against Sebastian. If they don't see me with you, it'll stop these rumours and whatever the result of their accusation against me for murder, it won't affect you."
John got up from his chair and walked to the fireplace, placing his hands on the mantle. He looked at the mirror that hung on the wall, seeing the signs of sleep deprivation on his own face.
"No."
His eyes noted Sherlock's reflection as the exasperated hybrid turned from the window and stared at John.
"It's the most logical thing to do, John. Even if I get put down, it'd be worse if Sebastian ends up free, too. Plus, if that happens, your reputation would be ruined! You will be accused of being involved with a murderer, and a hybrid no less! No, there are no laws against that, but you know perfectly well your name will be tainted wherever you go now that it's all over the news. Do you really want that for the rest of your life?"
John turned around to face Sherlock, eyes steady and expression firm. He wasn't going to let Sherlock sway him on this decision. This is too important, and his mind is firmly made up.
"Sherlock, you're not leaving. I'm not leaving. We're staying, right here, at 221B Baker Street. Both of us. Even if you are accused of murder, even if you are convicted of murder, that doesn't change. I don't care what they say about our relationship. I am not going to let them separate us."
The doctor takes a few steps so that he stood right in front of Sherlock, taking the pale hands into his. His eyes peer up, noting how the sunlight from outside seems to cast a glow around the brunet making him even more ethereal than usual.
"I love you, and I'm not going to let them shame me into letting you go. I promised you will be safe here the day I got you, remember? I'm not interested in breaking my promise, Sherlock. You won't let me break my promise, will you?"
Sherlock suddenly felt it hard to breathe as his hands gripped onto John's tightly. Rationally he knew it'd be better for them if he went somewhere else to stay for a while, at least until all this is over, but a part of him had been terrified. Where would he go? What would he do on his own? John's reassurances were like the rock that anchored him to safety and he clung to them desperately.
Shaking his head, Sherlock stepped closer to the man he had come to love so much and bent his head down, pressing their foreheads together.
"No...you'd never break your promise, John. I know."
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CHAPTER 37 END
Sorry for the delay, work is a little busy recently OTL
So, our case unfolds and it looks like someone's really out to get Sherlock. This is going to take a few chapters to finish so buckle your seatbelts everyone!