Things at the Black Friars Abbey were a bit grim. They were dealing with a crisis of identity. For centuries, the friars had one job, oversee the ordeal, and protect the key. When Richard unexpectedly survived the ordeal, at first there was fear and grief. They had failed. The friars had gathered in silence to pray for all humanity. Surely the destruction of heaven and earth was at hand. When hours and days passed without the end of the world, some of the friars had gotten restless. Finally a brave few ventured out to find out what had happened. They had found the Great Beast of London dead and the way to Islington's citadel clear. But instead of the fallen angel, they found a wounded and sleeping trio. They were shocked to find that Door had somehow managed to banish Islington even farther away. They were also relieved to finally have something to do. People were injured and needed tending to. So they carried Door, Richard and the Marquis back to the Abbey. Once the three were healed, more or less, the Abbot had listened to their tale. He had been stunned that not only had they not brought about the end of heaven and earth, but had all survived. He gave thanks and praise unto the wondrous ways of the Lord.
After helping send the Upworlder back where he belonged, the friars had allowed themselves a bit of a victory celebration. A monastic and subdued celebration, to be sure, but a celebration none the less. The relief they all felt was palpable. Much ale was drunk and joyous hymns sung. But even the delight they felt couldn't keep forever. Slowly, a sense of loss descended on the Abbey. They no longer had a purpose. A few of the younger friars left in the ensuing weeks, their faith irreparably shaken. The older friars knew that this was a test to be borne like all the others. They searched for new tasks, like removing the wall of pictures of those who had tried and failed the ordeal. They wrote down accounts of the ordeal and descriptions of the key itself. They tried to learn how to make a better cup of tea. But eventually, even the most stalwart of the friars had to admit, they no longer had a reason to exist. There had been whispered discussions among some of the friars, that perhaps the abbey should be abandoned, having fulfilled its mission. Other felt they should remain and serve travelers. The more astute friars pointed out that few if any travelers came past their citadel. All in all, there had been quite a bit of polite bickering and the Abbot was getting sick of it.
The brothers were all shocked to hear the tolling of the bell announcing visitors. No one came anymore, now that the key was gone. The friars who had advocated for ministering to travelers felt a little smug. See, travelers would come, eventually. As Sherlock, Molly, Door and Richard approached the bridge, Richard was sweating heavily. He was getting worried that they would face a fight on the bridge, like last time. He really didn't want to have to draw his knife against men of the cloth. Thankfully, there was no guard posted, just a very bored young monk. He had been waiting for months for the chance to ring the bell and was reveling at having done it. Most of his friends had fled weeks ago and he was wondering if he had made the right choice in staying behind. The thought of getting to ring the bell was all that had been keeping him going. It had been just as wonderful to pull the bell rope as he had imagined it to be. Door hailed the young man, and he scrambled to open the huge wooden door. Sherlock readjusted his grip in his violin case. He studied the massive stone walls of the abbey. He was past wondering how such structures had escaped the notice of London Above. Door asked to speak to the Abbot, and another monk bowed and gestured for them to follow.
The Abbot was weary; he had led the Black Friars for many years. He had experienced many people come to try and then fail the ordeal. He had survived the unthinkable, someone passing the ordeal. And yet, he was still here. He knew that he should not question the mysteries of the Lord, but sometimes it was hard not to. He wondered why he still lived, what purpose he still had. As he lay in his cell, deep in prayer, he had been surprised to hear the tolling of the bell. There wasn't much left for visitors at the Abbey now. All that the Black Friars had ever done was protect the key. They had no library to speak of and nothing else really of interest. The Abbot was glad for the distraction at least. Visitors would give him something different to do. He slowly stood, bones cracking and creaking as he straightened out. He heard Brother Fuliginous open the door, ready to guide him to meet the visitors.
Molly lifted one foot and then the other, trying to drain some of the foul marsh water from her shoes. She glanced surreptitiously at her companions. The silence was awful. She felt the overwhelming urge to make some sort of inane comment or silly small talk. Everyone else looked so serious, so she kept her mouth shut. Besides, Sherlock would probably just remind her that conversation wasn't really her area. From across the bleak courtyard, a door opened. A tall man led a tiny old man through the door. The old man was clearly blind. His nose twitched as he crossed the yard. As he approached, he called out, "The Warrior has returned? What do you want now?"
Richard jumped, the sight of the elderly Abbot was more frightening than he would have liked to admit. Weird flashbacks of the ordeal swam through his mind. Damn it. He had just come along on this trip as protection, this wasn't his quest! He started to stammer a bit, but Door jumped in.
"Father Abbot, this is Door, of the House of the Arch" she explained.
The Abbot interrupted her, "You're here too? What is this? Some sort of reunion?" he asked querulously.
"No Father, we have come for your help. Richard returned to London Below, and in doing so, the key was returned to his possession" she explained. All the gathered friars gasped at the news. Whispers raced through the crowd. Door waited for a moment, till everyone quieted back down a little.
"So, um, we have these other friends, Sherlock and Molly and they want to return to London Above, so we thought that they could use the key" she trailed off as she watched the shock keep reverberating through the Black Friars.
The Abbot coughed, and suddenly the whole courtyard fell silent again. He raised his hand. "Once again, I can't believe how incredibly stupid all of you are." He sighed, slightly ashamed at his outburst of temper. "Come along then, all of you." He waved at the group and began shuffling back towards the tower. Door shrugged, and began to follow him. Molly and Sherlock followed close after with Richard bringing up the rear.
The Abbot and Door huddled together and began to speak. Door waved Sherlock over to her side and then whispered with him. Molly reached out and grabbed Richard's hand when Sherlock left her side. Richard grinned at her and squeezed her hand. He was glad to have something to do. He could comfort Molly. He was starting to relax. They had been at the Abbey for a while with no mention of any new ordeal. Door walked back then and gave them both a reassuring smile.
"Okay, well, I've got to go on ahead a bit. Just wait with Sherlock, Molly, and the Abbot will tell you when to go. Richard, I'll be back in a bit, wait here for me, okay?" She hugged them both, and then ran off, disappearing into a small doorway at the bottom of the tower.
Sherlock came closer and shook Richard's hand. "Thank you, Richard, for everything." The two men stood awkwardly for a moment. Neither was sure what else they should say. Richard was secretly thrilled that he had met a celebrity. Molly gave Richard a hug and wished him well. She had a hunch that Richard and Door would be starting their own romantic relationship soon. Molly huddled next to Sherlock while they waited. She kept looking over at the Abbot. He seemed to have fallen asleep. She could hear snores. The minutes dragged on. How long were they supposed to wait? Molly was debating sitting down for a while. Her legs hurt. Then a rattling, crashing sound rang through the tower, like something was falling down the stairs. The noise got louder till there was a sudden final bang, and the doorway flew open, a cloud of dust all that was there. The Abbot jumped back, thrust into wakefulness. He wheezed and snuffled for a second, while he tried to remember where he was. After a moment, he remembered that the Lady Door had returned, and brought the wretched key with her.
"Hmppfh, well, she's bound to be ready then, so off you go, best luck, just keep walking, straight ahead now, don't stop till you get to Door, she'll see you through." He coughed and stuck out a trembling finger, pointing toward the open door. Sherlock squeezed Molly's hand, and then strode through.
As they entered the dank tower, Molly looked up. It was hard to see just how far the steps went; they curved upwards in a tight spiral. She shivered in the cool air. Before taking the first step, Sherlock bent to kiss her quickly. "Don't be scared Molly," he murmured. She kissed him back and began to walk up the stairs. For a long time they climbed up and up in the darkness. Molly's legs ached and she was certain they had climbed much higher than the top of the tower. At that moment, she decided she had had enough of magic for the rest of her life. The notion of returning to a London where things were exactly as they seemed was very appealing. By the time Sherlock realized that they had climbed farther than should have been physically possible, he had lost track of how many stairs they had already climbed. He was feeling rather annoyed at his thoughtlessness when he nearly ran headlong into a wooden door. They had reached the top of the tower.
Sherlock pushed the door open and he and Molly walked onto a train platform. It was garishly lit. The walls were papered in advertisements for boot black, cod liver oil and gas lamps. Sherlock sighed in irritation, his arms hurt from carrying his violin case. They walked the length of the train platform following the arrows to the exit. "More stairs" moaned Molly. This set of stairs was mercifully shorter. The stairs ended in the middle of a park. The Tube station entrance was surrounded by flower beds. Clouds of pollen flew up as Sherlock and Molly trudged through the flowers. Molly sneezed a few times. Ahead of them, a graceful wrought iron arch marked the entrance to the park. Door was standing underneath the arch, waiting for them. She grinned at them. Molly managed a weak smile, she was exhausted. She could tell Sherlock was wearing down too.
"Well, um, this is it" announced Door. She looked sad for a moment, but forced another smile. "I'm going to miss you both, take good care of each other, okay?" A tear rolled down her face. "And Sherlock, thank you for finding my sister, I never would have done it without you." Door reached out awkwardly, she wanted to hug the man, but wasn't sure how he would react. Everyone was surprised that Sherlock set down his instrument case and gave her a quick hug.
"Thank you Door, for all your hospitality" said Sherlock solemnly.
Molly nodded and hugged Door. Both women were getting a little teary. It had been a long time since Molly had had a good friend; she knew she would miss Door. "Thank you Door, for everything" whispered Molly. She wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed Sherlock's hand.
"Alright, well, as soon as I turn the key, just start walking, don't stop and don't look back. This is good luck and good bye then." Door took the tiny silver key and reached out. She closed her eyes and twisted her wrist. A rush of wind sprang up, propelling Sherlock and Molly through a gateway of light. They walked briskly forward, eyes closed against the blinding light. There was a quick burst of heat, and then the light and wind were gone.
Molly opened her eyes one at a time. She and Sherlock were standing on a sidewalk next to a high brick wall. Sherlock suddenly began to walk faster, pulling Molly a little bit. She looked around, but the street was not familiar to her at all. For a moment, she wasn't sure that they were in London. It looked like a very fancy part of the city, not someplace she had ever been before. There seemed to be high brick walls on both sides of the street. She could see a massive iron gate in the wall. Sherlock was racing now, dragging her toward a discreet metal box next to the gate. He pushed the buzzer, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for an answer.
Static crackled for a second, and then a bored voice said, "Can I help you?"
Sherlock bent closer to the box and shouted, "Tell Mycroft that Captain Bloody Awful is here."
Silence. The static crackled back finally, "Is this some sort of childish joke? I'll call the police you know."
Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just tell Mycroft that Captain Bloody Awful is here and wants to come in, if you don't, I assure you that you will be looking for a new job tomorrow" he shouted into the grill of the intercom.
They waited for another ten minutes. Sherlock fidgeted the entire time, tapping his fingers and rocking on his feet. He kept his gaze firmly on the house. Molly hoped that someday Sherlock would explain what "Captain Bloody Awful" was all about. It had to be a good story. While they waited, Molly looked around the street. It was very still, a few silent black cars rolled down the street, but there were no pedestrians. She could hear more city noise in the background, but this particular street was practically abandoned. She studied the large house that was on the other side of the gate. It was a beautiful brick structure, surrounded by exquisitely landscaped lawns. In warmer weather, there were probably lovely flowers in the carefully tended beds. The front door of the house flew open with a bang. Mycroft Holmes stood at his front door, peering out. He began walking down the steps, hurrying down the lengthy drive. Sherlock huffed impatiently.
"Hmm, I'm impressed he's making the effort" muttered Sherlock. Mycroft was followed by an impeccably dressed woman who managed to walk briskly in heels and keep typing on a sleek black phone. Just behind her was a tall man in a black suit and bringing up the rear, a nervous looking young man who was blathering on despite the fact that no one was paying him any attention. Mycroft actually ran the last few steps, drawing a snort from Sherlock.
"If I knew my resurrection was all it would take for you to begin exercising, I would have done it sooner" drawled Sherlock. The brothers faced each other, the gate between them. Mycroft studied his younger brother for a moment and then shook his head.
"Judging by the state of your clothes, I can only imagine where you have been. Mummy's going to be thrilled that she took my advice and left the dates off your gravestone," intoned Mycroft. He turned to Molly then. "And Dr. Hooper, a pleasure as always. I suspected you might have something to do with this." He waved impatiently at the man in the black suit. From somewhere deep in the brick wall, gears began turning and the gate slowly opened.
Sherlock gripped his violin case tighter and squeezed Molly's hand. Together they stepped through the gate. Mycroft and Sherlock stared at each other for another moment. Mycroft reached out a shaky hand first and then Sherlock put his violin case down. They exchanged the briefest, most awkward hug Molly had ever seen. She suspected they were both out of practice. Mycroft snapped his fingers and the nervously stammering fellow stepped forward. He quickly picked up Sherlock and Molly's bags, still apologizing and jabbering on. Sherlock refused to relinquish his violin. Mycroft briskly turned and headed back to the house followed by his retinue.
"Molly, this will almost certainly be extremely tedious. I know I promised to behave myself, but I fear it will be impossible in the presence of my brother" muttered Sherlock.
Molly reached out to squeeze his hand as they walked toward the front door. "It can't be that bad, the Marquis isn't around" she said. Sherlock brightened considerably at this. At least he had left one of the world's greatest irritants behind. He laughed quietly and leaned over to kiss Molly's cheek. They walked down the drive, ascended the steps and walked through the door together.