(18) Revealed Secrets
"So that's it, then," Merlin sighed. "There's no point in me trying to recreate the cure for vampirism."
"The younger ones could handle it," said John. "Like Irene or Sally, or perhaps even some from a few centuries ago. But no farther back than that."
"I've been trying to work something out that doesn't involve destroying vampires or hurting Lycans," Merlin said. "The first time around, I hated vampires. Hated myself. It was all my fault. But now you tell me I'm too old. Enola is only three thousand years old & she has a lot of problems. I'm seven thousand. I wouldn't survive at all. I wonder how long she would last?"
"Sherlock bit her after Adrian was born," John said. "The birth was too complicated. She would not have survived beyond that."
"She's a vampire, again?" Merlin raised his brow in surprise. "How's the child doing?"
"It could be better," John said. "I mean the kid's fine but Enola gave him up. She doesn't want him around the family since none of the children in the Holmes family ever survived. They'll bring him back when he's eighteen."
It was strange knowing there was a new Holmes out there. Adrian was close, somewhere in Britain but he would not be a part of his true family's life until he grew up. Enola had withdrawn from everyone, hiding out once more at Mycroft's estate, wishing she had her child back. She kept telling herself he was safer away from them & it was just temporary, anyway.
Though she was once more a vampire, Enola skipped the next full moon, still wanting to be alone. Sherlock checked up on her afterwards. She asked how the wolves were doing but left it at that, not wanting to speak much.
"You hate me now," Sherlock said after several minutes had past. "I know. I turned you."
"I wanted to come back some day," Enola said. "Just not right away, but I suppose that can't be helped."
"Even if you weren't pregnant, you would not have survived for long," Sherlock pointed out.
"I know," Enola said. She curved a wing around herself, inspecting it. "First Mycroft did this to me, then you do."
"The alternative was not acceptable."
"It's fine," Enola said. "I didn't want to die there that day. I just wish it was under better circumstances. Hey, at least you had permission. Sort of. Mycroft didn't wait for that. Sometimes I wonder if we would have allowed him, had we known."
"I doubt it," Sherlock said. "We had a false idea of what vampires are at the time. We would have tried to destroy him."
"We would have failed since we were all going around with sharp wooden stakes," Enola said. "He would have still gotten to us after that."
"Well, at least it would have annoyed him," Sherlock said, making her laugh a little. "Shane & I will come over sometime next week to finish going through Mycroft's things. I should go. Lestrade is expecting John & I." Enola nodded silently as Sherlock left. She closed her wings & dropped into an armchair to put her head in her hands.
Sherlock met John at the police station. "How did it go with Merlin?" He asked.
"I think he was a bit frustrated," John said. "He wanted to find a new cure but then I go & tell him that he should basically give up the idea since people his age won't adapt well in this modern era."
"Perhaps such things are best left alone," Sherlock replied. "As you say, it is what it is."
"I guess so," John shrugged. "I ran into Shane over in Reading. He said next Monday would be a good time to finish up with Mycroft's things."
"At least this time, we won't be interrupted," Sherlock said.
"Don't jinx it!" John groaned.
The next week, on Monday, found everyone back at Mycroft's estate. This time, Enola could help much more as she was back to her old, fit self again. Even the cutting to get Adrian out of her was all cleared with no traces of scars since the birthing wounds had still been fresh when Sherlock had bitten her. They had nearly finished Mycroft's master bed room, having divided work files from personal ones. Work files were either sent back to whichever government they were for & some of them were even destroyed to prevent further scandals. Personal things were divided between whatever would go to the castle, either in Mycroft's closed room there or in the private museum, & certain items that would join the old suitcase & necklaces to be donated for the history of the Titanic.
"We just have this drawer left, then on to the private study," John said.
"We might need another box," Sherlock glanced at the last empty box sitting on the desk. "That one might be too small."
"I'll go find another one," Enola left the large room. John nodded as Sherrinford began putting things into the small one they had. By the time Enola had returned with another box, John & Sherrinford had stuffed the one they had with everything left in the drawer. "Here's ano—how did you get all that in there?"
"Uh, I dunno," John shrugged. "I'm good with my fingers & he's good with his head?" Total complete silence followed that comment for nearly a minute. Sherlock stuck his nose in a file & tried desperately to not even smile. Enola cleared her throat. John held up an index finger. "LET ME REPHRASE THAT!"
"Nope," Enola wheezed. "Too late. It's already been said & we all heard it."
Sherrinford wiped away a few tears before looking at John. "I'm very good with my head, John."
John glared at him. "You suck, Shane!" Wait. No!
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sherrinford purred.
Sherlock tossed the file onto the desk & left the room. Enola threw the empty box at the two idiots before following him out. John rubbed both hands over his face. "Shut up, Shane!"
"You walked into it!" Sherrinford sobbed, kneeling on the floor, dying of laughter.
"I hate you," John glowered. "So much!"
Sherrinford just laughed harder. "Oh!" He gasped for air. "Ohh John!" He rolled to his side. "That sounded so much better in your head, didn't it?"
"Done!" John marched out into the hall. Unfortunately, going into the private study wasn't a good idea either for Sherlock & Enola were already there, both laughing at him.
"Apparently, he does suck pretty good," Enola said.
"Well," Sherlock corrected.
Enola stuck up two fingers in the shape of a V in his face while she went on, "In more ways than one."
"Let's just get this over with," John growled, face beet red.
It took a few hours to finish the study. It could have taken less time but Sherrinford showing up to help between fits of laughter made things take longer than it should have been. Finally, everything was organized & loaded into the large white limo.
"Well, that about does it," Sherrinford said, putting the last box into the boot. "The Undead Law has set up a ceremony in Southampton tomorrow when we bring everything in." He slipped into the back seat next to Anthea who was working away on her tablet.
"We'll see you there," Sherlock closed the door for him & stepped back to let the limo drive away.
The museum was a large crowded mix of human, wolf & vampire that day. It was revealed that five members of the Undead Law had already been part of the staff there for several years, three vampires & two wolves. They now took over the section set aside for Mycroft.
The old suitcase was now under glass, opened enough to reveal the hidden compartment for the blood vials. Next to that, was another highly secured glass box, displaying the two diamond necklaces. There were also two very old pieces of stationary with Mycroft's hand writing. Both were his account of the event, one had been for the public with no mention about what he was while the other he had done for himself but never made public. This second one had a lot more detail & was nearly three times as long as the first. It included the true reason why he had supposedly survived despite not being in any life boats. He didn't need them for he was a vampire. Copies of photos & film they had were also given, including some extra film of inside the ship & several family photos that were once more restored for anyone to see.
The long pole discovered on the stern section was also exposed as one of Mycroft's wing ridges since by now, random divers to the site had been wondering what had caused such a sudden change down there. Pictures of the stern with & without the ridge stuck in it were now set side by side as the public was made aware that the Undead Law had long since retrieved the potential weapon & after that, it had been claimed by the Holmes family. Beyond that, only the Undead Law knew of the four swords entrusted to four close friends.
"When I die, I have it in my will that the sword goes back to your family," Lestrade said to Sherlock as he came up to the table Sherlock was standing near. He reached over to grab a drink.
"You are a valuable asset to the force," Sherlock said. "It is a pity you do not wish to join us, Greg." Everyone within earshot stared at Sherlock. He had said the correct name!
Lestrade took time to recover from that surprise. "I'm fine as a human." He finished half his drink before going on, "Quite the turn out."
"Yes. People have been expecting it for a while," Sherlock said. "Although I am not sure why they all had to come here. Most of the stuff we released are pictures & film which could just as easily be found online, now."
Lestrade slightly rolled his eyes & shook his head, drowning a laugh by finishing his drink. "Some people want to be a part of history by actually being there."
"History is boring."
"It's been almost a hundred twenty years & people are still talking about this ship," Lestrade pointed out. "Very boring, indeed."
"Whatever."
Lestrade sighed heavily. "Philip, help me out here, please?"
"Sure," Anderson shared a wicked smile with Donovan. She knew what he was about to say. "Which way does the Earth go ar—"
"Why hello, Molly. How are you?" Sherlock asked loudly as Molly passed by. He took her on his arm & led her away, leaving the three cops choking on laughter. He led her all the way across the floor to where John, Enola & a few others were before letting her go.
"It's quite amazing, all these extra photos," Mrs. Hudson said. She had a drink in one hand & a very familiar umbrella in the other that Sherlock had given her earlier. It was actually also a sword from a wing ridge of Mycroft, though not part of the one that had been caught on the Titanic. "Several from inside the ship. There was never a whole lot until now. I wonder why others who were on board don't have more?"
"I would think any personal photos people took may have gone down with the ship," Sherlock said. "Most of ours are from the trip between Southampton & Cherbourg & so came off with the rest of us since only Mycroft & the children went on ahead."
"It's nice to see some more film of it," Molly put in. "Besides the few seconds of Titanic in the dock."
"Real film, not movies," Sherlock said.
"Have any of you ever watched any of the movies?" Molly asked.
"Shane does," Sherlock answered. "He previews each one just once & then lets us know how inaccurate they are. He is also the only one around now who has seen the lost film made a month after the ship sank, using the actress, Dorothy Gibson who was also one of the survivors, in it. Of course, we all know the music from the most famous movie. Can't be helped & it is suitable for violins, anyway." Molly & Mrs. Hudson both turned away to hide smiles as another woman came up to their table. "Lady Smallwood," Sherlock acknowledged with a slight nod. She had been a close friend & ally of Mycroft in the Secret Service, among other things.
"I was beginning to wonder if this day would ever come," Lady Smallwood began. "But at the same time, I'm a bit sad that it is here. I wish Adrian could have been a part of it."
Sherlock glanced down at the two swords on Molly's & John's hips & glanced at the umbrella Mrs. Hudson had. "Well, five pieces of him are here in some form."
John put his hand over the hilt, fiddling with the flap that came down to hide the small Titanic so that people seeing would not realize what these swords were. "Sherlock," John groaned. It was both funny & wrong at the same time.
"It's true, though," Sherlock said.
It was true & John finally admitted that with a small laugh. "Well, I'm going to be up all night dealing with the blogs for this. I'll be posting up my own copies to everything you guys put online."
Sherlock put his empty glass aside. "About those blogs of yours," he started. "You have quite the following & I've noticed people have been asking about something."
"What it is?"
"Join me in the limo when it's time to leave & we'll discuss it then," Sherlock replied.
It was rather profound leaving that place when evening came on. Things of Mycroft & the girls now left for public viewing. Full exposure of the Undead Law. There was a sense of finality to everything. Mycroft was truly gone after three thousand long years & all that remained was either in one museum or another or at the main Holmes castle with his surviving family.
John's blog had blown up once more with excited fans talking over the latest updates. He let it go for a while until things calmed down before being able to get back to normal writing of cases he & Sherlock would do. But things were about to get crazy once more for Sherrinford, Sherlock & Enola had finally come up with a way to answer some other questions that had been asked for a long while now.
Almost three months after the presentation at the Titanic museum, Sherlock was at the castle adjusting a camera. Behind him, the window was dark with the night.
"It took us a while to set this up," Sherlock began. He hesitated as dogs could be heard barking. "It's a full moon & we are finally able to broad ... cast ..." His face turned into a rather unimpressed frown as dogs started barking even more. He tried again. "Of course, we won't show their trans—" The barking dogs basically wanted Sherlock to have a stroke. He marched off screen, bellowing, "WILL YOU SHUT UP?!"
"Mmm?" Whine. Thwump! A gold wolf was thrown into view & landed head first into the sofa. He lay there for a moment. His tail began wagging as Sherlock returned to the screen.
"OK!" Sherlock sighed. "We are going to broad cast this full moon live. We won't show their transitions from human to wolf to human again. That is very personal to each werewolf. They don't even transform in front of each other. But we will show what goes on in between. We have shown pictures & short videos of this occasion before but this is our first attempt at filming the entire night between shifts. My brother Shane & my sister Enola are both here to help watch them. This is Enola's first full moon back since she had been cured. I'll let her take over since I have an order of chips I'd like to finish." He glanced around. "John? Where are you?" He walked off screen, looking for him.
Enola appeared. "We have cameras all over the house & some areas outside," She said. "Shane, Sherlock & I have sensors on us so the camera nearest us will switch on to show what goes on during a typical full moon. It's a bit rainy right now, so we're all inside the castle." She glanced sideways. "Ok, what's wrong with Sherlock?" She got up to go after him. From then on, the cameras would switch to follow them.
Sherlock was currently on his hands & knees under the large dining table with a gold wolf who had a paper bag in his mouth. John glanced back at Sherlock, his usually curly tail held low between his back legs, tip slightly wagging, just out of reach behind some chairs. "John!" Sherlock snarled. "Give me my bloody food back! NOW!" John scurried forward, away from him. "Doctor Wats—oh! That's IT! Stupid werewo—ow!" He had banged his head in an attempt to get out from under the table to run after him. Enola burst out laughing. Sherlock rubbed his head. "Will you please help me catch him?"
John was currently on top of the table at the far end. He dropped the bag. Sherlock clamoured up to run the entire length of the dining hall on top of the table to get it but by the time he got there, Zadie had jumped up, snatched the bag & ran for it. John & three other wolves went with her & all grabbed at the bag. It tore open, sending chips everywhere. Wolves scarfed it all down before Sherlock had a chance to get anything.
Sherlock went back to the sofa in front of the main camera & dropped into it, scowling. "I really wanted those chips." John came up to sit beside him, chip sticking out of his snout. "Give me that!" John swallowed it whole. Sherlock closed his eyes & sighed in annoyance. "Thanks for the help, Violet!" He groaned. Enola was still laughing way too much to yell at him. Sherlock looked at the main camera. "Normally, we don't allow them anything during full moon except water & honeycombs. There is one other thing they would eat during this night if given half chance. You. Yes, you. Humanity. Before anyone starts thinking about getting a werewolf for a pet. They are human & safe most of the time but one night a month, if you are human & they find you, they will kill you. If you want such a high strung animal for a pet, then I suggest some sort of Husky would be the closest thing. Huskies won't kill you & are dogs all the time."
He paused & his eyes went wide. He suddenly shot from the couch like a rocket from its pad, dived forward, wings out & sliding across the floor, coming in like a ship too fast into port, right upto the wall. His hands caught some large thing just a second before it would have smashed into the ground. It was a large HDTV that had been pulled from the wall when Harry had trotted by, her curled tail catching wires & pulling it off. A second later & it would have been destroyed. Harry barked in surprise & fled the scene.
"Nice save!" Enola bent down to pick up the screen out of Sherlock's hands.
Sherlock pushed himself up to a kneeling position, closing his wings. "I'll put it back. You go find her."
"I think the rain's slowing down," Enola said. "I'll put her outside, then come back to help you."
Putting it back however, was out of the question. The wooden boards splintered & fell. Enola ended up putting the TV into a corner while Sherlock went back to the couch with John who had spread out upon the cushions. He hurriedly sat up to let Sherlock sit beside him.
"That's a huge hole in the wall your sister just made," Sherlock said to the gold wolf. John whined, turning his head to look at Sherlock. "He's trying to be cute," Sherlock went on. "He knows he's been bad." He put a hand on the ears, giving them a rub. "Little thief. Aren't you? Just wait. I'll get your human self to replace that whole ord—mmf!" John had just licked Sherlock's face. He rubbed it off with the back of his hand. "Alright. So John & I just French kissed on live stream for all of Britain to see. I hope you're happy, Engl—uhh!" John did it again. "Kissed twice in a row. This will crash the blo—" Sherlock let out a yelp, curled over & landed face first on the floor, hanging on to himself. John had just walked all over him, his big paws with sharp claws going right between Sherlock's legs. John looked back at him, whined again & then took off, leaving Sherlock balled up on the floor.
Enola came to stand over him. "So that was on live stream as well."
"Shut up, Violet!" Sherlock ordered weakly, still on the floor. Enola was crying once more from laughing too much.
The cameras switched to outside on the covered porch. Sherrinford was with another pale wolf, but this one was more on the tan side than gold with white underneath. "This is Harriet, John's twin sister. She became active, recently. Her favourite activity as a wolf is to fight with her brother over honeycombs & apparently, catching wires with her tail." He glanced behind him as a black wolf & a light brown wolf stood up on their hind legs to drape their front paws over the railing. "Jacob Grant, the black one," Sherrinford tossed some honeycomb to Jacob. "Kyle Watson, the light brown one," He gave Kyle some as well. "Kyle is distantly related to our own Doctor Watson & is the son of Arlin Watson, the one who had nearly restarted an ancient war. I'd rather not talk about that, though." He petted Kyle's head.
The rain had stopped by now. Sherlock had finally recovered from John's groping & opened the sliding door of one of the parlours to let the other wolves out. They ran into the wet grass, finding honeycombs tossed their way from Sherrinford who was already with a few other wolves. The covered porch was empty for a moment until wolves began running across it. Running was more like sliding as their wet paws made contact with the hardwood floor. They began running around on the soaking grounds before throwing themselves onto the wood to go sliding.
John eventually tried it, though he slid in the wrong direction. There was a not so mild explosion of wood & gold fur as John went right through the railing to disappear with a yelp on the grass below. All wolves stopped as they looked around, wondering what just happened.
Sherlock soon appeared slowly walking across the porch, both hands over face in surprise. He paused to stare at the damage before suddenly turning to the camera. "Ok. So. John just went through solid oak panelling." He glanced over the busted railing. "Can someone explain to me how he managed that?"
"Um," Sherrinford's voice could be heard just slightly out of reach of the camera's view. "He has a hard head?"
"Oh, bloody hell! You & your head," Sherlock rolled his eyes. Out the corner of his mouth, he remarked to the camera. "Mycroft isn't the only queen in this family," before asking, "Is he ok?"
"Uh, define ok?"
"Well, is he alive?"
"Alright then, yes, he's ok."
"That might leave a mark," Enola said, also just out of sight.
Sherrinford came up the steps onto the porch, carrying a limp gold wolf in his arms. He laid the wolf down. A splinter was sticking between John's eyes. "Alright, someone needs to hold him while I yank that out so he won't bite me."
Sherlock & Enola went to the other side & knelt down, holding onto John's head. Sherrinford grabbed the splinter & rolled backwards away from the wolf as he pulled it out. Sure enough, John barked & tried to twist around to bite; though, he didn't get too far, being held down by two other vampires. He sat up, licking his face. Harriet soon came to help him out. Within a few minutes, the wolves were sliding again, but this time, all three vampires stood against the railing, wings out, making sure the wolves won't slide into it a second time.
John's cut on his face healed up before morning, leaving only a small indent not much bigger than a pinhole. The wolves moved out into the grounds as the sky cleared. Sherrinford & Enola picked up the broken pieces to put aside out of the way before following. The rest of the night passed more smoothly apart from Sarah trying to enter the castle by attempting to jump through a closed glass door, scrunching up her face with a loud thud on the window before falling back on her tail. Enola shook her head at her before opening the door. But now, Sarah was insulted by the door & didn't want to go in.
"Ugh. Werewolves are worse than cats when it comes to doors," Enola complained, entering the castle by herself. It was up to Sarah to follow or not.
The three Holmes sat on the sofa in front of the main camera again. "Well, that's it," Sherrinford began. "They'll be shifting back to their human selves soon. So we will be turning off all cameras now. They usually sleep for half a day after & then all's back to normal for another month." He reached forward to press a button, shutting down all cameras.
"Can't wait to see the blogs on this one," Sherlock groaned, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You & John finally kissed," Enola teased.
"Shut up or I'll turn you to ash," Sherlock got up & stormed off. Enola's head fell into Sherrinford's lap as she laughed harder than ever.
John gingerly touched the tiny indent between his eyes while going through everything that had been filmed. He started typing. 'Ok well, that was not our best full moon. Not our best, at all. I still have a headache from crashing through that oak panel. We might have to redo this. I know a lot of people have been asking about how our moon cycles go & that ... was not really a good show.'
Unfortunately for John, the blog fans disagreed with comments ranging from 'I never laughed so hard in my life' to 'how cute the wolves' were to 'Oh Detective. I know ALL about stolen food. My damn dogs do it to me all the time & they're just two meddlesome Chihuahuas' followed by a picture of the little devils & several laughing icons.
'I can't believe Sherlock & John finally kissed! TWICE! I can die happy, now!' Was the main comment under the video.
'Ok, I was in my dog form, then. That's just what dogs do! Come on, you guys.' John defended, ending up reposting a similar reply to everyone but no one paid attention to that little detail. He eventually gave up fighting a losing battle.
Besides the archived live stream, John also put up the last pictures of Mary that Sherlock had taken moments before she had been run down. He had sent it all to John ages ago but it took a while for John to put them up until now.
John also ended up filming Sherlock in a rather compromising position, not with Irene but something else. Sherlock was lying on the floor grinning widely at the ceiling. 'Can someone help me out here? I think my pet vampire is broken!'
'Ohh he's high as a kite!' "two laughing icons"
-signed out RomaPrincess
'Thought so.' "several eyeroll icons"/'Thought so.' "several eyeroll icons"
-signed out DocsKeepinTime/-signed out NSYInspectorGadget
'Wow! You guys posted the exact same thing at the exact same time!' "several laughing icons"
-signed out RomaPrincess
'So we did!' "shock icon"/'So we did!' "shock icon"
-signed out DocsKeepinTime/-signed out NSYInspectorGadget
"long row of laughing icons"
-signed out UndeadKing
'Knock it off, Greg!'/'Knock it off, John!'
-signed out DocsKeepinTime/-signed out NSYInspectorGadget
'OMG STOP!'/OMG STOP!'
-signed out DocsKeepinTime/-signed out NSYInspectorGadget
'If I laugh any harder, I'll turn to ash!' "several rows of laughing icons" Hey Greg? Want to go out for some coffee? "upside down smirk icon"
-signed out UndeadKing
'Not my division!'/Not his division!'
-signed out NSYInspectorGadget/-signed out DocsKeepinTime
'I fuken hate you, today! John!' "long row of laughing icons"/'I fuken hate you, today! Greg!' "long row of laughing icons"
-signed out NSYInspectorGadget/-signed out DocsKeepinTime
'Stop! You're killing me, you guys! "exploding icon"
-signed out UndeadKing
"several long rows of laughing icons"
-signed out ConsultingDetective/-TheWhipHand/-RomaPrincess/-nsyChiquegirl/-nsyCruiseControl
'Sally & Philip, can you please take that keyboard away from him?'
-signed out DocsKeepinTime
'Nah, we're good!'/Nah, we're good!'
- signed out nsyChiquegirl/-nsyCruiseControl
'bangs head to desk' "face palm icon several laughing icons"
Literally everyone posted that. It was with great effort that John didn't launch his laptop into space after that one. He waited a couple of days before going back to the blogs, this time with a video of several vampires lurking under some waterfalls.
'Up at the castle. Haven't seen anyone all day. Went walking around to find a hidden pond with three falls entering it. When it's so hot, even the vampires are basically waterboarding themselves to stay cool'
A short video followed this, with Sherlock & a few others hiding under the falls, stretching out their wings. Besides his icy colour, several others were seen as well, from Sherrinford's Phoenix-fire to dark yellow to slate gray to silver.
'I've heard of them having all different colours. Wonder why it's like that?'
'I don't think anyone knows. But no two are the same.'
'Think we might get a black pair of wings again since Mycroft is gone?'
'It's never been recorded to see the same colour from a destroyed vampire put on a new one, but who honestly knows?'
'I think it has to do with personalities or auras as some say & no one is alike in the world.'
John found a shaded spot to stretch out until the hottest part of the day past. Things slowly returned to normal. Another full moon was filmed. This time, Harry & Sarah found the room full of unprocessed honey & knocked everything over, covering the floor in a sweet sticky mess. All wolves waded in, dragging the honey everywhere. Through the castle. Into the barn. On everyone's clothes whenever they jumped up. It took a few weeks to clean that up. On top of it all, the Holmes family was now suddenly short on honey & had to get some from other vampires for the next round. It took a while to replenish their own stock.
It was fine. It was all fine. Fine until Sherlock found more sticky honey lining the pockets & collar of more than one of his many coats. Fine until Bach squealed when a saddle was pulled off him, his hairs being pulled by the gooey mess that was stuck under the saddle. Fine until Enola tried to brush her long hair (she ended up having to cut the stuff out). Fine until Sherrinford sat in his new helicopter parked on its helipad by the castle, only to feel a slimy mess under him. Fine until Irene tried to get her whip back from the flat, realizing that the mess had sunk into the leather so well that it would never be fully clean again. Fine until Mrs. Hudson once more played housekeeper, claiming she was not their housekeeper, only to discover that anything she tried to grab was still sticky, three weeks later.
Ok, maybe it wasn't so fine. In fact, it was a complete disaster. Harry & Sarah were in the proverbial doghouse for a while.
"You're right, Sherlock," Sherrinford began one day when they were together at Mycroft's estate. "Those Watsons are the most troublesome pack!" He ignored John's eye roll as he went on, "My new helicopter is ruined! I had to order a whole new seat for that."
"Oh, stop whining," Enola ordered as she cut up an apple. "It's just the seat!"
"I'm not whining!" Sherrinford whined.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not!"
"Yes, you are."
"Will you both be quiet?" Sherlock interjected. "You're both whining."
Sherrinford sighed heavily. "It will be two weeks to replace that seat," he said. He suddenly yelped. His head jerked back as something grabbed his long ponytail from behind. There was a terrific thudding sound & Sherrinford's head came free from his hair. Sherlock's eyes went wide & he looked around for a place to hide. Finding none, he pressed himself against the far wall of the kitchen. John magically disappeared down the hall since he was much closer to the archway.
Enola had just chopped off Sherrinford's beloved long hair. "NOW you have something to whine about!"
Sherrinford gaped at her, feeling the back of his head with his hands, only to find short choppy hair. "Why you—you—you—"
"You what?" Enola shot back. "Bitch? Cunt? Might as well throw in Gypsy since it's a bad term now. Which is it, Sherry Berry?"
Fist clenched by his hips, Sherrinford hissed in a low breath. "All of the above!" They glared at each other. Enola tossed the cut off pony tail away. Sherrinford let out a high C pitched little scream.
"Oh shut up!" Enola ordered. "I could feel some honey in it any way. It will all grow back."
"Don't call me Sherry Berry!" Sherrinford stormed off to fix his uneven, short hair. When he returned, Enola & Sherlock could only look at him.
"You look a lot like Mycroft that way," Enola finally said.
"Whatever," Sherrinford fumed. "I'll get you for this!"
"I'd like to see you try," Enola taunted. "Sherry Berry, quite contrary!" Sherrinford glared red & reached out for his sister. But no one knew exactly what he was going to do for John's cries interrupted them.
"SHERLOCK! WHOA! HELP!" John yelped. The three of them ran in his direction. They ended up in the large living room just in time to see John disappear into the wall & a bookcase slide back into position. After a moment of stunned silence, John groaned. "HOW MANY BLOODY SECRET ROOMS DOES MYCROFT HAVE?!"
Sherrinford glanced at Anthea. She shook her head. "Nope. Not even I knew about that one, or how to get back into it."
"I leaned on the bookcase," John called back. "It has to be one of the books. Probably a fake one."
"Are you alright, John?" Sherlock asked as he began pulling books off the shelves.
"I'm fine," John sighed. "Just get me out of here, please."
"Hold on," Sherrinford said. "It will be a few minutes."
John heard books thudding as they were tossed from the shelves. He felt around on the wall until his hand connected to a switch & turned it on. He was in a very small room. No windows. No way in or out except the way he had gone through. There was an armchair & a desk here but not much else. John sat at the desk, picking up a pen holder shaped like a rectangle with two sparrows perched on the front of it. There were a few old pens in it. He put it back & opened one of the two drawers. It had an old thick journal in it. John scanned through it for a moment before putting it back in the drawer. He closed that side & opened the other one. In the second one, were several bundles of letters just as old as everything else here. He picked one up. The strap broke & he had to put his other hand on the bundle to keep the stack together. He let it all go on top of the desk & began checking through the letters, skim-reading over several of them.
In about fifteen minutes, Sherlock's hand landed on a book that wasn't a book. He pushed it back & the case slid open. Sherrinford jammed it with a chair. Sherlock climbed over it & went straight for the desk. He began feeling around underneath. "Ah, there is a button here that would have opened that up."
John didn't seem to hear as he laid aside another letter. "It appears that Anthea is Mycroft's little secret."
"Why do you say that, John?" Sherlock asked.
"Because of what she is," John said.
"One of Mycroft's bodyguards," Sherrinford said. "Mine now."
"Also one of Mycroft's many lovers," Sherlock pointed out.
"Not mine, now."
"You're gay!" Sherlock rolled his eyes. Sherrinford immaturely poked his tongue out at Sherlock.
"Not any of that. Something else," John pushed his way out of the tiny room.
"Well, she isn't a vampire or Lycan," Sherrinford said.
"No, she's totally human," John said. "It's who she's descended from. There are love letters in that room between Mycroft & a woman from a long time ago."
"Mycroft? In love? Do you hear yourself?" Sherlock scoffed. "He was a butterfly, never settled for long in three thousand years."
"You can go read them for yourself," John jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "There's also a large journal there, detailing your lives these past three thousand years."
"There is?" Sherrinford asked in surprise. "I didn't know he wrote anything about us."
"Looks like he still kept some things to himself," John said. "I think I know why Mycroft liked that song," he looked past Sherlock & Sherrinford, to meet Anthea's eyes. "And so do you, don't you?" He moved closer as Anthea took a step back. "Yes, you do. Your grandmother's name matches certain words in that song Mycroft likes. So it was all about her & no wonder he went for you, after. I'm right, aren't I?"
Anthea nodded slowly. "Yeah, you are."
-Finish
The Death Series now currently has five sequels, one of which is actually a prequel.
Previous is Death Series 1: Dance With Death
Previous is Death Series 2: Irene's Choice
Previous is Death Series 3: Flying Burn
The next continuation is
Death Series 5 Prequel: Unsinking, Undying
Death Series 6: The Highbourne (This will be a while as I'm still sorting out plot & stuff.)
NOTE: Though a "Prequel", please be aware that this add-on was written after Death Series 1, 2, & 3 (& was started during Death Series 4) & so of course will contain the two main spoilers found in Death Series 1 (spoiler alert: ... ... ... the fact the Holmes are vampires & the Titanic).
So at the very least, if you are new to this multi-fic story, you might want to read Death Series 1: Dance With Death, first.)