Hey everybody! Sorry for the long wait, but this part of the story isn't written yet... Anyway, here's chapter 11!
"I don't know, Sherlock. Happy now? I don't know how they could be in the house, I can give you the security videos if you want," Mycroft's voice is one of the first things I can hear. Sherlock is there as well.
"You told me, you promised me. This is your fault, all of it!" he sounds as angry as Mycroft sounds annoyed and so I decide to cut in.
"Hnnnng,"
Well, maybe not as graceful or beautiful as I wanted, but it does it's job. They shut up instantly and when I open my eyes, I see them standing at the foot of my bed. Which is also my bed in Mycroft's house, in my room, which is, now that I think about it, surprisingly tidy.
Sherlock comes to my side quickly and looks down at me.
"Kiara, are you okay? How are you feeling?" He tries to sound calm, but there is a tiny hint of worry.
"WHO tidied my room?"
Sherlock and Mycroft look at each other and then at me, confused.
"Please don't tell me that one of you did it because it would be just too weird and besides, ewww."
Again, the look at me, even more confused.
"You are thirty-six and I don't even want to know years old – you going through my clothes, especially my underwear? Which WAS lying around, sorry about that. Anyway, that would really be ewww."
They are still confused as a huge fit of laughter gets me and I can feel tears running down my cheeks.
Two days later I am up and about as usual. I decide to introduce Sherlock to Assassin's Creed and after a slight tantrum it is "just a rubbish, unrealistic piece of idiocy" as he says it, he seems to like it somehow. We play both single-player (we make a new one, beside the one I have) and multi-player (I win, although he is getting better horribly quick).
Mycroft is in his study most of the times and we only see him at the meals, and three days after the incident which we know call 'Smith and Stone' he makes an announcement even Sherlock listens to.
"Evidence has been raised, as you might know, under the name of an organisation called IBIS. You might have seen it. Yellow spray can, writing 'IBIS', 'I believe', 'I believe in Sherlock Holmes' or 'Moriarty was real' on walls, boards, everywhere."
Sherlock and I nod. We have seen it, not that often, but I know how much it must mean to him and Watson.
"We will be able to rehabilitate you very soon, Sherlock. It will put a stop in your active search, but it will make things a lot easier. I'm leaving you the choice, you can either do it now or later."
It is clear from his tone and how he speaks that he wants to get it over with, that he wants to rehabilitate his little brother, and I have the inkling that it is also because of the images.
"I – Let's just do it now. John might-" Sherlock doesn't end the sentence, just jumps up and leaves the room in a rather hurried manner.
After a moment of consideration, I follow him. I find him in his room, sitting on his bed, with his back to the door. He is in his thinking pose, hands in prayer-position, the finger-tips touching his lips. The small movements behind his eyelids tell me that he is in his mind-palace, and I try not to disturb him too much as I sit down next to him.
Sherlock looks up when I push my phone into his hands, then on the phone. He looks down on his best friend, sitting in a rather old, slightly battered arm-chair, opposite a black leather chair with a violin in it. Watson looks better than the last time I saw him. Despite the cane leaning on the arm-rest, he looks healthier and more relaxed. His laptop-screen is glowing and I hope that the knock at the door (of 221B) is something good.
I curl around Sherlock on the bed, only barely touching him, and wait.
So... A rather short chapter, I'm sorry, the next one will sadly take a bit longer as well. But don't worry, a lot of stuff is already written for the future.
Btw, I also have a tumblr, I'm called, like here, valkyrie-of-the-dead.