A/N: I apologize profusely that you have had to wait so long, but life being what it is, does not always cooperate. That, and Watson has been strangely silent.
No disclaimer: Public Domain!
Ch. 12- Something Gained, Something Lost
6 August, 1894
I believe that I overexerted myself with my last entry. As I read back through I note that, while accurate, my penmanship has suffered because of my condition. It is frustrating to no end that I must experience this weakness for I have not felt this wretched both in body and mind since India and that is a time in my life that I have no wish to repeat. My wishes, however, are entirely pointless for I wish that I had never married one time let alone two. I wish Mary was still alive (she would be had she not married me). I wish that I had been granted the chance to hold our child. I wish that Holmes had not died at Reichenbach. I wish his phantom had not returned three years later, for I am now convinced that the man I had kept company with those nine weeks is not Holmes, embracing me eagerly in friendship, before shattering me upon the chopping block.
At times I wish I could claim no knowledge of the name Sherlock Holmes.
All of these wishes leave me wracked with guilt for a man must tackle the burden he is dealt and be thankful for it. I do not think, however, that I can handle the burden of loving Holmes much longer. I am not improving as the doctors here wish and I, as a doctor, cannot fault them for their care is most excellent. I have long believed that part of the recovery is entirely based on the patient's will to get better. I am afraid that I sadly lack that will. I have treated myself most poorly in these last years and it shows; if I survive this ailment I will be much surprised.
Today I was once more granted the right to the sun room, despite a horrible night of fevered dreams. I indicated to Nurse Blain that I wished to adjourn to my previous spot despite another gentleman close by. He appeared to be napping and I did not wish to search for another nook in which to hide. There she left me with the warning that she would return in two hours time. I suppose that will severely curtail my entry, but I shall continue on for as long as my trembling limbs will allow.
It is thanks to my dreams that this memory has resurfaced. I am finding it difficult to access many of my recent memories due to the high fevers I have suffered. This shall pass or it shall not, I cannot summon the energy to care. But I must get this down for I do not wish to allow any more to slip away from me.
Shortly after Sir Henry persuaded me to allow him to aid in my recovery, I was moved into my previous room. Somewhat embarrassed, the baronet admitted that he could not allow any other to occupy the space for it stood as my room in his mind. I am afraid that I was rather embarrassed in turn, but I thanked him. I was grateful to Sir Henry for more than just the room and aid, but his willingness to perpetuate my deception. I was entirely truthful about my panic over the thought of him not recognizing me. When I relayed as much to him he laughed and confessed that he had almost not but for that peek of my eyes.
"You are the only one with such a handsome shade, John."
To my mortification, I felt my cheeks heating and I was certain I was blazing an awful shade of red despite the make-up. Still snickering, the baronet turned to leave, wishing me pleasant dreams.
"Henry," I called and he halted. "Thank you. I didn't know where else I could go."
His smile was gentle though he made no move to return to my side. "Think nothing of it, old man. You will always be welcome here. Perhaps one day I shall convince you of that fact." With that puzzling message dispatched, he departed.
I must confess that despite the nap that I had already indulged in that afternoon, it was still well past noon when I woke once more. I was still tired; it seemed as though lead had been infused into my limbs and I would have done well to heed the warning then, but my health was hardly a priority and I cast the vague worry aside, assigning the blame to the vivid nightmares that had plagued me throughout the night. After reapplying my disguise, I carefully made my way back down to Sir Henry's study, purposely taking a wrong turn or two so it seemed necessary that I should ask directions from one of the maids. She kindly offered to lead me there herself and as I saw no way to politely refuse, I allowed her to do so. She left me with a curtsey right outside.
My entrance prompted the baronet to remove himself from his paperwork and offer me a rather quirky smile. "I was beginning to wonder if I would see you at all today, Godric." He fairly tripped over the name and shook his head. "That's going to be wickedly difficult to remember, old man."
"Perhaps you should practice more," I teased, "Or simply continue with 'old man.' You seem overly fond of applying that appellation to me."
"Which has nothing to do with you being several years my senior," he returned all too innocently.
"Watch it or I might be tempted to deliver a caning to your backside," I drawled in my best Godric impression and was rewarded with a bright peal of laughter.
"I would sincerely like to see you try," he challenged, rising from his desk to ring the bell. "And now you are going to join me in a late lunch with," he pointed a finger at me when I opened my mouth to protest, "no argument from you on your lack of appetite. I have my sincere doubts that you have eaten enough lately to keep a bird alive, let alone a full grown man who is not in the peak of health." The determined glare silenced any protests I might have been willing to put forth and it was with a rather world weary sigh that I joined him at the table.
Half of lunch passed in silence, I fuming over the demand and the baronet focusing a disturbing eagle-like gaze upon the portions that I consumed. Matters likely would have continued in such a fashion had not a curious sensation at my ankles nearly scared me out of my wits. My nerves were well and truly shot, I will admit, and such an unexpected sensation was entirely unwelcome. I startled Sir Henry with my rather undignified yelp and, to my consternation, he began to laugh after he peaked under the table.
"I suppose it would have been wise to warn you," again with the innocent tone as he bent to retrieve something from the floor, "but in truth it completely slipped my mind." He emerged from under the table holding a cat.
A cat.
Now, if I ever do pen the events of the Baskerville case, I will need to omit the true extent of Sir Henry's injuries. One such injury is the scar upon his chest. The hound had dug into the man's chest as if it intended to claw his heart from it. The wounds were severe and despite my prompt treatment of them, scarred. The extent of the scarring I am not privy to as the baronet travelled during his recovery. The other injury was not physical in nature, but psychological. The attack had left a deep fear of dogs. In the letters I had received over the years, Sir Henry had confessed his discovery of the phobia as well as his work to overcome it.
Never in any of those letters had he mentioned a cat.
It was a magnificent specimen with sleek black fur and luminous yellow eyes that were slitted in pleasure as the baronet scratched its ears.
"Antoinette," Well that solved the male/female issue, "stowed away with me on my way home after my sabbatical. When I found her she was in a perfectly dreadful condition and I could not turn her out. I nursed her back to health." He laughed as the animal in question stretched and kneaded his lap to her level of acceptable comfort before settling in for a nap. "I'm afraid that she now entirely rules the roost. Everyone adores her and caters to her every whim. She is unbelievably spoiled." He bestowed an affectionate smile on the purring mass of fur. "It was so bad at one point that she was getting very fat so I started taking her on walks with me across the moor. She was much better for it." Pulling his attention away from his pet, the baronet smiled to see I had consumed a good portion of my lunch. "Excellent! How would you like a tour to see the improvements? That way you can get to know the place once again."
I agreed immediately for, despite my continued fatigue, I knew that it was important to exercise and the activity did not sound too strenuous. To echo my agreement, Antoinette leapt to the floor and gracefully sauntered to the door, impatiently twitching her tail at us.
"Seems like you're going to have two guides," Sir Henry remarked as he strode to the door.
"I do believe your right," I agreed as I rose to follow, retrieving my cane in the process.
I could describe all that I was shown during the tour, but it would be both a waste of time and paper as it has no place in this account. Perhaps another time when I am more up to task. Suffice it say that the renovations, while in some areas extensive, did not detract from the haunting, Gothic quality of the Hall. It was equal parts informative and amusing with the addition of the baronet's cat who seemed determined to put on quite a show for us both. It was not until we returned to the hall in which I resided that she became quite agitated, pacing and yowling, dashing down the hall before running back, yowling, then repeating the process once more.
"What the devil is wrong with that beast?" Sir Henry wondered, his tone showing both curiosity and irritation.
"While I'm afraid that my knowledge of felines is somewhat limited, I might venture to guess that she wants us to follow her."
I received an exasperated glance for my troubles before I was tugged along by the elbow. Seeing that she had finally acquired our obedience, she led us on quite a chase till we came to a small nook in a library near the fireplace. It was there that we came across the most extraordinary surprise.
"Kittens?" Again the baronet fairly squeaked as the sleek black feline looked at us proudly from behind her litter.
"Four all told. Small wonder she was fat, she was pregnant!"
"But I haven't seen any other cats around," the other protested as a silver one, obviously old enough to be weaned from its mother, began to wander away from the rest. Heartily grateful for this unplanned distraction, I watched as the little one first sniffed at Henry's boot, wrinkling its delicate nose, before turning its attention to me. Unconsciously, I found myself on the floor and the kitten took this as an invitation to investigate further. With claws, teeth, and a goodly amount of familiar determination, she conquered me as though I were a mountain. All at once I found us nose to nose and I did my best not to become cross-eyed as I was presented with a pair of beautiful green eyes that narrowed in concentration as I was investigated thoroughly. Apparently I was deemed acceptable for she soon scrambled onto my shoulder and burrowed into my scarf, purring in my ear.
"I think you've been claimed, old man." He held out a hand and pulled me easily to my feet.
"So it would seem."
When Sir Henry reached to pet the kitten, it hissed at him, showing both teeth and claws.
"Not very tame," he remarked dryly, retracting his hand.
"I doubt any of them truly will be." Still, the little beast made no fuss as I removed her from her chosen spot and lifted its tail. "It's a girl."
"I insist you keep her as I will have a devil of a time finding homes for the others."
It was not something I had planned, but some part of me settled at the sound of her purring and I could not bring myself to say no. She would be a step towards my recovery in regards to Holmes, of that I had hope.
Seeing my acceptance, Sir Henry went on. "What shall you name her?"
Many names came to mind, but only one stood out as appropriate. "Regina, for she too is a queen."
It may seem strange that a cat should enter my tale, but it comes to me in my clear moments that I have no notion as to what became of her. It was a false statement to claim I only gained two things from my visit to Sir Henry for she can undoubtedly be claimed as a third. She was with me when I collapsed in my hotel room, but when I inquired after her, Nurse Blain could tell me nothing. No cat was found when my luggage was retrieved from the hotel. At my insistence, she had them conduct a search but nothing was found.
It must well be my lot in life to lose those that I love. I lost Mary to childbirth. I lost my brother to the bottle. I lost my fellow soldiers to the Ghazis. And now my little Regina. But even her loss pales in comparison to Him. All pales to Him.
I suppose it is just as well that I never became a father for if I cannot take care of a cat, how could I have ever hoped to take care of a child?
A/N: *peeks out* I know that I have not updated in what seems like forever, but I cite a busy schedule and an out-of-state graduation of a friend as the reason. That, and I'm not entirely sure of this chapter. *sighs* It is what it is. I blame the malaria. Wow is he depressed…
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