PLEASE READ THIS AUTOHOR'S NOTE!
Hello everyone again. And now it begins, the end. I started writing this story when I was fifteen and now I am twenty-two. I am so humbled and grateful that all of you have joined me for so long.
My apologies for not finishing this sooner. Between medical issues and trying to finish college, it has been a struggle to find time to write.
I found the time now because of something very serious that happened to me. Christmas of last year, I almost died. I didn't know that I had the flu and for some reason, my lungs failed me. My cousin found me the day after Christmas unresponsive and I was rushed to the hospital. My oxygen levels were only at 50% and I was pretty much about to start drowning on the fluid in my lungs. I was fighting it. So, I was put on a ventilator and put in a medically induced coma for nine days.
They didn't think I was going to make it, but I pulled through better than they thought I would. As of now, I am completely healthy, but I do get winded every now and then. I realized that I have so many people that care for me, including all of you.
And the one thing I wanted was to finish what I started.
I hope you all enjoy these last few chapters of this story.
The only change I made was from the end of the last chapter. Lexi was actually twenty-four when she met Eurus, not seventeen.
Enjoy
Mels xoxo
Suddenly the phone in Mycroft's office began to ring and he picked it up, putting it on speaker phone so that Joanna could hear the conversation too. It was hard to make out Lexi at first however as she was speaking frantically on her end of the phone.
"Where's John and don't give me crap about you not knowing. I know you have eyes on us twenty-four hours every day," Lexi asked frantically.
"Lexi, what's wrong?" Joanna asked, trying to calm Lexi down and they heard the consulting detective inhale deeply.
"Where the bloody fuck is John?" Lexi demanded once again, not sounding like herself at all.
"He is at his therapy appointment. I just checked in on him, why?" Joanna asked in confusion and Lexi replied rapidly.
"Because John's isn't safe, because the great Mycroft Holmes won't admit to anyone that Sherrinford has been breached, that he is wrong!" Lexi yelled furiously into the phone as Sherlock watched her in concern.
"What do you mean?" Joanna and Mycroft heard Sherlock ask his wife, his tone worried.
"John isn't safe. He's with her. He's with Eurus!" Lexi told Mycroft frantically and Mycroft's breath caught in his throat.
"Whose Eurus?" Sherlock asked his wife in confusion on the other end of the line.
"The East Wind, the other one. I know now what you meant by all that. The other Holmes! I was so stupid that I didn't realize it at first. When you took me to meet her…I never guessed, not until now and it is abundantly clear to me. Eurus is your sister," Lexi said quick fire and Sherlock frowned at his wife on the other end of the phone, not understanding her sense of urgency or what she meant. He didn't have a sister. "Why did she want to meet me?" Lexi demanded of Mycroft who finally spoke, telling her the truth.
"You intrigued her. She wanted a friend and I thought you could keep up with her. She also would not see you as a threat. You fit my needs," Mycroft told Lexi calmly.
"I was twenty-four and your sister was in an institution for the criminally insane. The same institution Caradoc had been placed in. So, what is it now? Is she throwing a tantrum because I haven't visited her in over three years?" Lexi demanded to know, and Mycroft sighed.
"Sherrinford was breached and not just by Caradoc, Eurus is behind it all. They're working together to the best of my knowledge, Eurus and Caradoc," Mycroft explained to Lexi, still calm.
"And you didn't think I should be warned that my psychopath of a brother had somehow escaped from your impregnable jail? That Eurus had done the same and that maybe, possibly, they both might take an interest in Sherlock and I and I don't know, want to kill us?" Lexi demanded heatedly. "That is why Caradoc told me that she wouldn't like it, but she would have to understand. He meant Eurus. He meant your sister," Lexi laughed manically.
"It isn't possible for them to have left Sherrrinford…," Mycroft began before Lexi cut him off.
"Well obviously they did! I trusted you. You promised me that Sherrinford was the world's most secure prison. So how can you account for the two most raging psychopaths breaking out of it?" Lexi demanded and Mycroft shook his head on the other end of the phone.
"I don't know," Mycroft told her and he heard Lexi laugh bitterly on the other line.
"Say that again and mean it this time," Lexi told Mycroft who inhaled and sighed deeply.
"I don't know!" Mycroft yelled back at her.
"Good, now you better hope to God that she hasn't hurt John because if she has, I am holding you personally responsible," Lexi insured Mycroft before the line went dead.
"What's wrong with John? Who is Eurus?" Sherlock demanded as Lexi rushed about the flat, calling for Mrs. Hudson as she changed into a tick sweater and jeans, talking under her breath to herself.
"John is in danger if I am right. No, I am right. I was so blind, so stupid, I should have realized all along," Lexi told her husband as she yelled for Mrs. Hudson once more and fumbled around with the underside of the dining table before pulling a revolver free from where it was taped underneath, securing it in the waistband of her jeans.
At that, Sherlock flung off his dressing gown and grabbed for his own pistol, where it was hidden in a hollowed-out book on the bookshelf, yelling for Mrs. Hudson as well. There were banging footsteps from the stairs and the elderly woman panted at the top of the stairs, looking terrified as she entered the flat. \
"What's going on? Is it the twins?" She asked worriedly as Lexi dashed over to her and took her hands into her own.
"We need you to watch them Gran. John needs us. He's in danger. Call Mary and have her come over to help you. If anything happens to them…" Lexi told her worriedly and Mrs. Hudson patted her hands.
"No one is laying a hand on those dears. Go, John needs you," Mrs. Hudson assured her and both Lexi and Sherlock rushed out of the house, flinging their coats and scarves on as they rushed down the stairs.
"What's going on?" Sherlock demanded as he and Lexi slid into a cab and rushed towards John.
"Mycroft knows more than he is willing to say. It explains the woman we met, the fake Faith. It explains everything, why Caradoc was able to find me. I've told you everything, everything except for Eurus. It seemed so innocent. Mycroft lied to me, but now I know what I was missing, what he kept from me," Lexi explained as Sherlock watched her, listening to her words intently.
"He introduced me to a woman once, a woman named Eurus. He said she had requested to speak to someone, anyone. All I knew was that she was insane, but there was something about her. She was brilliant, like me, like Mycroft. She could deduce everything except me. I intrigued her because of that. We got along well and then one day she lashed out at me. It was before I met you and John. She had to be restrained and I told Mycroft I was done. Two months later I met you and I forgot about Eurus. It seems she never forgot about me," Lexi told her husband, rubbing her face with her hand tiredly.
"I don't understand, why would Mycroft care to associate himself with a woman who is insane as you say?" Sherlock asked in confusion and Lexi looked at him, taking his hand into her own.
"Because she is your sister. The woman I spoke to, Eurus, she is your sister," Lexi told him as the cab pulled up outside John's therapist's home. They both slid out of the car and moved towards the door, guns raised.
Sherlock slowly turned the knob and opened the door, entering first into the house as Lexi followed, watching his back. It was quiet. Maybe too quiet. They entered the main room to find John, laying on his back on the floor in the middle of the room.
"John?!" Lexi cried as she ran towards the army doctor, Sherlock quickly going through the house room by room, checking for anyone hiding as Lexi guarded John.
"Is he all right?!" Sherlock called to her as he entered the room again.
"He's breathing. I think she just knocked him out. There is a few drops of blood here on his neck. I think maybe a tranquilizer," Lexi told her husband as Sherlock knelt down beside John with her. "In my case bag, get the Epi Pen," Lexi ordered, and Sherlock jumped to do as she requested.
"What is this for?" Sherlock asked Lexi as he handed it over to her.
"I need him alert enough to tell me what happened. Call Molly, have her come to our flat. Greg too. I want Baker Street like a fortress until we know what is going on," Lexi ordered as she uncapped the epi pen and drove it down into his covered leg. It took a few seconds but then John jolted slightly, looking around blindly in a panic as he was roused by adrenaline.
"John, John," Lexi repeated as she took hold of the arm doctor and tried to settle him. "It's me, it's Lexi. What did she give you?" Lexi demanded as she tried to keep him calm.
"Where is she?!" John demanded, repeating it over and over again.
"Who John?" Sherlock asked the army doctor and John started to fall back under the meds, the adrenaline only doing so much for whatever he had been given.
"Eurus, where is Eurus?" John slurred before his head slumped into Lexi's lap. The two detectives shared a worried look
"It seems to me that my brother has a lot to answer for," Sherlock told his wife and Lexi nodded in agreement. "Let's pay him a visit, shall we?" Sherlock asked and Lexi looked down at John.
"Priorities, dear," Lexi reminded him, and Sherlock nodded before sighing.
"You get his head, I'll get his feet," Sherlock told her, and the two detectives hauled John away, ready for the start of their next case. The game was on.
A young girl with brown curly hair, who looked no older than ten years old and was possibly younger, looked up, as the aeroplane she was on started shaking. Lights were flickering on and off and above her the emergency oxygen masks had dropped down and were swaying back and forth. The girl turned to the window and pushed up the blind and looked out. It was dark outside. She pulled the blind down once more and turned to the woman sitting beside her who had her eyes closed.
"Mummy?" The little girl asked, but the woman didn't wake. Frowning, the girl stood up and looked along the plane. All the passengers had their eyes closed, and above them all the oxygen masks had dropped down. The plane jolted again, and the girl turned to her mother and worriedly shook her.
"Mummy! Wake up! Wake up! Mummy!" The little girl pleaded and when her mother still didn't respond the girl unclipped her seatbelt, stood up and squeezed past her mum's knees to get to the aisle.
Crockery rattled and the little girl looked to the rear of the plane. A flight attendant was lying in the aisle unconscious, crockery and a coffee pot on the floor in front of her. The girl turned and looked to the front of the plane and gasped at what she saw. The door to the flight deck was open and the pilot was slumped over the controls, his right arm dangling at his side and the co-pilot was lying on the floor behind his seat.
"Wake up!" The little girl anxiously called towards the flight deck.
Suddenly, a mobile phone started ringing some distance away. The little girl started to walk towards the flight deck, stopping to shake the arm of the person sitting in the aisle seat in front of her row. When she got no response, she continued forwards, her feet crushing sweets that had rolled into the aisle. Her look of distress only increased when she saw another flight attendant unconscious on the floor at the front of the aisle. The ringing phone was closer now and she saw it on a small shelf in front of a couple of passengers in the front seats. She reached over and picked up the phone, pushing the screen and holding it to her ear.
"Help me, please. I'm on a plane and everyone's asleep. Help me!" The little girl pleaded anxiously and tearfully, but the voice over the phone was anything but comforting.
"Hello. My name's Jim Moriarty. Welcome ... to the final problem," A male's voice said, and the little girl was shacking slightly, not liking the sound of the man's voice.
A flickering black and white film flashed across the screen. It was a film noir made in the 1940s or 1950s and it was set in the office of a private investigator. The investigator, Leonard, stood with his back to his desk and in front of him was a typical femme fatale, Velma, holding a cigarette. Both characters spoke with American accents, as a man watched the production intently.
"You know I could arrest you?" Leonard asked the femme fatale, Velma.
"What for?" She asked him coyly.
"Wearing a dress like that," He answered her, and she smirked, leaning in a little towards him.
"Would you like me to take it off?" She asked, flirting with him.
"Then I'd really have to press charges," He assured her, and her smirk only widened at that.
"Press away," Velma told him, nonplussed.
Mycroft sat in his armchair with his left elbow on the arm and his fingers propping his head up, the film projector behind him. He smiled and mouthed Leonard's lines every time he spoke, his wife sitting on his lap, her head tucked under his chin as she dozed, Mycroft holding her closely to his chest with his free arm and smoking a smoldering cigarette held in his other hand.
"Isn't that how they got started?" Velma asked on screen.
"Who?" Leonard asked, Mycroft still mouthing along to his lines.
"Adam and Eve."
"Oh, them," Leonard, with Mycroft mouthing the line, said.
"And that turned out okay."
"You think so?" Leonard said, but Mycroft was to busy smiling to mouth that line. He turned his head and picked up a glass of scotch as he mouthed the next line. "I thought it was supposed to be the beginning of all human misery," Mycroft mouthed before he drank form his glass.
"Now, what was all that about arresting me?" Velma asked on screen, and she flicked the ash from her cigarette onto the floor beside her. Mycroft smiled at that as Joanna roused and blinked bleary eyed before snuggling back up to her husband.
"Well, maybe not arresting you," Leonard told her on screen.
"No?" Velma asked coyly.
"I could just keep you under close watch," Mycroft mouthed along, whispering it in his wife's ear and she laughed at that, watching the film with him now that she was awake.
For a split second the footage on screen glitched, showing a yellowed image of a family of two adults and two children sitting on what looked like a beach, then the footage returned to the film.
"Very close?" Velma asked on screen as Mycroft and Joanna frowned.
"Uh-huh," Leonard answered and the footage glitched again, for a little longer this time and the yellowed image returned but then zoomed in towards one of the children, a young overweight boy, about eleven years old.
The image was clearly old cine footage. The screen briefly returned to Velma in the movie, then flicked over to a close-up of the fat boy smiling at the camera, then returned to the movie. Mycroft sat up carefully as Joanna shifted in his lap and then he turned around to look at the film projector. Joanna frowned in confusion and Mycroft hummed slightly as he inspected the film projector.
"Fingerprinting ...," Velma said on screen as Mycroft and Joanna turned back. Mycroft reached over and stubbed out his lit cigarette in an ashtray.
"... being searched ..." Velma continued as Mycroft and Joanna turned back to watch the film.
"... thoroughly," Velma finished, and Joanna smirked, loving that line.
Again, the footage glitched and the boy smiled quirkily into the camera. Now the footage jumped more quickly back and forth between the professional movie and the home movie. In the latter, a beach ball bounced across to a younger boy, about four years old, who had a mop of brown curly hair. The camera pulled up and the mother stood up and waved. Mycroft was obviously puzzled but he couldn't help smiling at the sight. The father knelt down to the older son who was holding a plate piled high with sandwiches and an apple and was taking a bite from a sandwich.
Whatever the father said to him on the silent footage ended with the boy pulling the plate protectively closer to him. The footage cuts to the parents sitting in their deckchairs as the father beckoned to the younger boy who trotted towards them; then it cut to the younger boy piling on top of the older one who was half-reclined on the sand with a book in his hands and the older boy grinned.
Again, Mycroft couldn't help but smile as Joanna frowned thoughtfully. She could see the resemblance, but she was absolutely sure that this footage shouldn't be on this film reel. The footage cut to a far shot of the parents and their two boys waving into the camera, then briefly, the screen went white and jagged writing appeared reading:
I'M BACK
before the family continued to wave at the camera. The footage seemed to briefly return to the black and white movie and a tight close-up of the top half of Velma's face, except that the eyes were different, no longer the eyes of the actress. Again, the family waved to the camera, then the white screen and the "I'M BACK" message reappeared before the footage dissolved.
Mycroft stared at the screen in shock while, behind him, the last of the film tape spooled off the end of the reel.
"What was that?" Joanna asked her husband in concern and he shook his head as she turned to look at him.
"I don't know," Mycroft admitted quietly. They stood, staring for a moment at the now blank white screen in front of them.
After a moment, Mycroft walked to a nearby door and took hold of the handle and tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge though. He took hold of the handle with both hands and struggled to open the door but to no avail. A female voice whispered echoingly in the room behind him and his wife then.
"Mycroft," The voice whispered, and Mycroft looked to his wife who shook her head, silently telling him that it hadn't been her calling his name.
"Get to Armillia and stay with her in the safe room," Mycroft whispered to his wife hurriedly and she nodded in understanding. Mycroft turned and walked back a few paces, looking up to the ceiling when he heard footsteps running across the room upstairs.
The film reel continued to rattle loudly on the projector and there was suddenly a sound behind Mycroft as Joanna reached under the table next to the armchair and grabbed the gun that was tapped under it. Mycroft turned to look as the door noisily creaked open and Joanna shook her head as she stared at it.
"Nope, just nope. When you told me that we were buying a house you never said it was haunted," Joanna told her husband who shot her a despairing look.
"Armilla," Mycroft reminded his wife and she looked between him and the door.
"Right. Never shot a ghost, but today I just might," Joanna said before she schooled her features and ran out the door, continuously yelling nope as she dashed through the halls.
Mycroft slowly walked through the doorway, hearing his wife's muffled voice down the hall and he stopped on the other side of the doorway, just as behind him the door rapidly and loudly slammed shut. He turned to look at it, then turned back at the sound of an electric fizzing noises. The lights in the hall in front of him flickered and then went out with a loud pop. Mycroft walked slowly forward to where his umbrella was in a stand at the side of the hall.
Taking it from the stand he held it in both hands and sharply pulled it apart, revealing a sword blade attached to the handle. Dropping the fabric to the floor, he switched on a torch on his mobile phone and walked slowly forwards, breathing harshly. As he turned to look into an open door, shining the light into the room, a small figure ran across the hall further along. It appeared to be a young girl wearing a dress and long white socks and with her dark hair tied in two long ponytails either side of her head, but she disappeared into the darkness. A clock started to chime down the hall and frowning, Mycroft turned towards the other end of the hall. When he turned around again the girl was back, standing facing him in the shadows beside the stairs. He walked slowly towards her and an adult female voice whispered in the darkness.
"Mycroft."
Mycroft got closer to the child and shined his torch on her. It was not a child at all however, but a mannequin with a blank white face, wearing the same dress and socks and a dark wig with ponytails. He turned then and called out along the hall.
"Why don't you come out and show yourself? I don't have time for this," Mycroft called, a bit perturbed at this point and a child's voice came from the darkness.
"We have time, brother dear. All the time in the world," The child answered him and from behind him, the 'real' little girl burst out of the darkness and ran up the stairs.
The mannequin however was still behind Mycroft. He turned and chased up the stairs after the girl. Slowing down on the half-landing, he turned and walked up the next flight. The upper floor was slightly better lit, and he tucked his phone into his trouser pocket as the child's voice met him once more.
"Mycroft!" The child sing songed and the aforementioned man walked slowly along the hallway.
"Who are you?" Mycroft asked, not liking the situation now, but he was relieved to know that Joanna could handle herself and by now, both she and his daughter were safe in the safe room he had built behind a false wall in the nursery.
"You know who!" The voice accused, now sounding more adult like but still sing song and Mycroft shook his head.
"Impossible," He said, more to himself than to the phantom.
"Nothing's impossible," The more child-like voice told him, sounding petulant and the lights started to flicker on and off. "You of all people know that," The child-like voice told him.
On the left-hand wall of the hallway hang a row of paintings. Mycroft had passed a painting of a large country house and now he reached a portrait of a historical male figure. As he looked at it, illuminated by a light above the picture frame, blood started to pour from the eyes and from one side of the mouth. He walked further along the hallway to the next portrait, this one of a historical woman, which also had blood coming from the eyes and mouth and running down the picture. He continued on and looked at the next picture, another historical man who bore a strong resemblance to Mycroft himself. This painting too had blood running from the eyes and one side of the mouth.
"Coming to get you!" The child- like voice sing songed and behind him, the helmet from a suit of armour was tossed across the hall and crashed noisily to the floor. Mycroft turned around in a panic as the noises came from all around him. "There's an East Wind coming, Mycroft! Coming to get you!" The child continued to sing song.
"You can't have got out! You can't!" Mycroft shouted, backing away, his eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping.
From a side turning further along the hallway near a standing suit of armour, a clown in full costume and make-up leaned out into view. Slowly leaning over sideways to an almost ninety-degree angle, he then straightened up and stepped into the hallway. As Mycroft stared in disbelief, the clown reached across to the suit of armour and pulled its sword from the sheath and held it up beside himself, pointing the tip towards Mycroft and raising his other hand forward.
Trying, and failing, to look determined, Mycroft raised his own sword in front of him, pointing the tip towards the ceiling, then lowered it and whipped the blade in front of him a few times. Pointing it towards the clown, he started to move forwards slowly while the clown made a 'bring it on' gesture with his hand and sword. Mycroft took another step forward, then took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and clamped it around the base of his blade, twisted it off the handle and aimed the small gun attached to the end of the handle at the clown. He pulled the trigger, but the gun just clicked.
"No use, Mycroft," The child-like voice sing songed and Mycroft desperately pulled the trigger again, but the gun only clicked once more. "There's no defense ...," The voice continued before it became more of a whisper. "... and nowhere to hide."
The clown roared then and charged forward. Mycroft cringed back and then he turned and pelted down a nearby flight of stairs. Running into the hall downstairs, he hurried to the two nearby doors and tried each one, but they were locked. The clown stopped on the upstairs landing and watched him over the bannisters. Mycroft turned and looked as a shadowy figure walked past the nearby upper windows.
Upstairs someone pushed through the heavy curtains over one of the entrances to the landing. It was Sherlock, complete with greatcoat and deerstalker. He stopped on the landing and looked across to the clown who just stood there, watching the situation unfold.
"Sherlock? Help me!" Mycroft begged and at that, Sherlock raised his right thumb and forefinger to his mouth, and he let out a piercing whistle.
All the lights come on at once and the clown looked down at Mycroft, who stared in shock as a short man walked out of another hall on the ground floor, wearing a dress and a dark wig with long ponytails.
"Experiment complete. Conclusion: I have a sister," Sherlock said more to the air than to his brother.
"This was you? All of this was you?" Mycroft demanded angrily, raising his head to look at him.
"Conclusion two: my sister – Eurus, apparently according to Lexi – has been incarcerated from an early age in a secure institution controlled by my brother." Sherlock continued, ignoring Mycroft and Mycroft raised his hands and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. Unseen by him, Sherlock waved cheerfully at him.
"Hey, bro!" Sherlock said as the clown stepped over to the suit of armour and put the sword back into place.
"Why would you do this ...," Mycroft said tiredly as he lowered his hands and spoke through gritted teeth "... this pantomime? Why?"
"Conclusion three: you are terrified of her. Conclusion four: You've been lying to your wife. I find the last conclusion way more terrifying than any of the others," The clown said in a rather feminine voice before it pulled of its wig and a cascade of raven hair flowed down it's back.
"Joanna?! You are a part of all this…farce?!" Mycroft demanded as the clown stepped down the stairs towards him.
"It wasn't my idea amante, but Lexi explained all that was going on and I agreed with her. You've been keeping a lot of secrets. It's time you fess up," Joanna told him, rubbing at the makeup on her face on the horrible plaid getup she was wearing.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with," Mycroft angrily told his wife and his brother. "None at all."
"New information: she's out," John said as he came out of a corridor on the ground floor.
"And so is my brother," Lexi said from behind Mycroft and he turned around quickly, finding himself surrounded. He hadn't even heard the Irish detective sneak up behind him through the front door.
"That's not possible," Mycroft told the four of them and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes as she went to stand beside Joanna.
"It's more than possible. She was John's therapist," Sherlock informed his brother.
"Shot me during a session," John told Mycroft a little tetchily.
"Only with a tranquilizer John. Talk to me when I shoot you with a .40 caliber," Lexi told the army doctor and John rolled his eyes good naturedly at her.
"Mm. We still had ten minutes to go thought" John said, all of them ignoring Mycroft who seemed to be having a temper tantrum as they spoke.
"Well, we'll see about a refund," Sherlock assured him, and John smiled.
"Not getting a good Yelp review I take it," Lexi asked John and he shook his head, chuckling as Sherlock descended the stairs and addressed their actor.
"Right. Wiggins has got your money by the gate," Sherlock assured the man in the wig and dress and the man in the child's clothes gave him a double thumbs-up and turned and scampered away. "Don't spend it all in one crack den," Sherlock called after the man.
"Fascinating what our homeless network is willing to do if there is a promise of pay," Lexi remarked before she looked over at Joanna. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?" She asked her friend and Joanna chuckled slightly.
"Guilty. Amante has hated clowns since we read It together. I know it was wrong, but it was a little funny," Joanna said before she sauntered up to her husband and squeezed her big red nose which made a squeaking sound. "We all float down here, Mycroft," She said, and he huffed angrily.
"You look ridiculous," He told her like a petulant child.
"And you are in big trouble," Joanna told her husband and even looking ridiculous in the clown costume her look still made him uncomfortable. He was bound to get an earful later about this.
"Oh, I hope we didn't spoil your enjoyment of the movie," Sherlock interrupted as he reached the bottom of the stairs and walked over to his brother, smiling. He headed for one of the nearby doors, taking Lexi's hand into his own as she tucked herself into his side.
"You're just leaving?" Mycroft asked the detectives in confusion.
"Well, we're not staying here. Eurus is coming and, uh, someone's disabled all your security," Sherlock told his brother and Lexi grinned at that.
"Guilty," She and Joanna said in unison, sharing an amused look with one another. Sherlock turned and opened the door which Lexi had picked the lock of and the two detectives walked out of it together.
"Sleep well!" Sherlock called over his shoulder to his brother and John followed the two detectives, but he turned back when Mycroft began speaking.
"Doctor Watson. Why would he do that to me? That was insane!" Mycroft demanded and John nodded, raising his eyebrow slightly as if asking "And?"
"Uh, yes. Well, someone convinced him that you wouldn't tell the truth unless you were actually wetting yourself," John told Mycroft who looked even more exasperated by this admission.
"Someone"?" Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow and John looked away thoughtfully, licking his lips before turning back to him.
"Probably me. Lexi too actually. And your wife," John answered him, and Mycroft looked between his wife who had her arms crossed and was looking at him with an, "Just wait until we are alone" look and the arm doctor.
"So that's it, is it? You're just going?" Mycroft asked John in disbelief.
"Well, don't worry. There's a place for people like you – the desperate, the terrified, the ones with nowhere else to run," John told him innocently.
"What place?" Mycroft asked him grimly, not catching on. John frowned momentarily and then looked at him as if he was an idiot.
"Two two one B Baker Street," John answered him, and Mycroft closed his eyes in resignation and sighed silently. "See you in the morning. If there's a queue, join it!" John called over his shoulder as he turned and walked towards the door.
"For God's sake! This is not one of your idiot cases," Mycroft said angrily and as he spoke, John lifted a finger as if he had forgotten something, then he turned and walked back into the hall, pointing upstairs.
"You might wanna close that window," John said as he looked at Mycroft. "There is an East Wind coming," He said and quirking a small smile at him, he turned and walked away again. Mycroft turned around and nervously looked upstairs not know what was worse, the East Wind or his wife.
