Chapter 4:Meet Sherrinford Jane Reilly Holmes
They all went back via private car to Mycroft's home-or one of them- Sherlock didn't actually know where he really lived. Mycroft let them freshen up ,and had them fitted with new clothes,and his housekeeper(because he actually had one) sworn to secrecy. If the three of them were supposedly dead, it'd be best to stay that way for a while, to avoid actually dying later.
Then they gathered in Mycroft's living room, around the fire, and Sherlock folded his legs up into the couch, John sat next to him,and Mary laid her head in John's lap, having been a bit more roughed up in her ordeal than she was letting on. Mycroft sat across from them, in the big arm chair, with a brandy for his nerves, as Sherlock began to make deductions as to the present, and Mycroft gently prodded him towards delving into the past.
"Your drug addiction began when you were a small boy, do you remember?"
"Wait, WHAT?!" John asked, horrified.
Sherlock swallowed. "The accident, left me physically traumatized. My body must have been too small for a strong enough dose to cut the pain I was experiencing...And so I began to take too much..."
Mycroft nodded..."As a doctor,and a medically discharged soldier, you know how easily one can become physically dependent on pain medication.."
John gulped. The thought of his friend,a child,and in pain, was troubling. The thought of him a junkie-in-the-making,at 7 years old, was also unsettling. And tonight had been full of reasons to be disturbed.
"What accident?"he asked, figuring they might as well do this. Sherlock's eyes were closed..
Mycroft swallowed."I couldn't bare to watch my brother suffer , so we began to expirment in the "brain sciences" as we called it,ways to use our intellect, -as his observation and deductive skills had already proved genius- for more productive purposes (than PTSD,you also know ,Doctor, how debilitating that is). We,learned a way to wipe -most of it anyway-from our memory."
"Yes..."John gave Sherlock an empathetic glance. But the detective was busy solving his own murder. And he was currently reliving his nightmare.
He flinched,and grunted, something like a whimper, but deeper,and it was so unlike him that Mary flinched,and John leaned over,and laid a hand on his shoulder...
"Sherlock..." he called,and Sherlock came back to them.
"It was a fire...One I was only burned in partial places, but they were excruciating burns...It was a building I had no reason to be in...except...I was trying to get Sherrinford away from someone."
"Sherrinford?That trouble maker." Mycroft groaned.
"Sherrinford, isn't that your brother.?The one that we don't talk about cuz he did something REALLY bad." John asked.
Mary sat up. "Sherrinford?" she asked,almost frightened, with a tiny voice,as if she knew this name. All eyes fell on her.
Sherlock smiled sadly,"No...Mycroft, our brother -our adopted brother, -remember we were adopted into an MI6 witness protection program,and our foster parents assumed the names of our birth parents-and their son assumed the name of our sibling, which they wanted to be assumed was a boy. Their son was one Lindor Key, and "Mum" and "Dad" are Mr. and Mrs. Key. Sherrinford Jane Reilly Holmes...was our sister. My fraternal twin sister, whose abduction I had solved, and sabatoged ,at the age of 7..."
Mary swallowed,and looked at John, who was looking between the Holmes brothers in renewed wonder.
"John, the day our car was bombed, and I was forced to tell you about my past as an assasin, do you remember?" she gasped, turning the men's attention her way.
John had tried to forget that day. It had been on a frightening case that Sherlock was helping them solve, a string of serial bomb plantings in their part of London. He had been the one to discover Mary used to be a British agent,and a master assasin...John had been really angry-angry that she had lied to him. He spent a few days at Sherlock's flat; she stayed with a few girlfriends. Then it had been forgiven,and forgotten.
"I couldn't forget..." he said, sheepishly.
She took his hand, eyes watering, afraid of how he was going to react to this.
"My name, my REAL name, the one you didn't want to know ,so my past could be my own business?...Was Sherrinford Jane Reilly..."
John felt the wind forced out of him. Sherlock smiled. Slowly, delighted. As if this was obvious.
"I thought you were familiar..."
Mycroft was scratching his chin. "It will take lab work to confirm."
Sherlock nodded. "I have a friend who can help us..."
He texted Molly ,a simple message.
"Dont believe the telly. I'm alive, obviously or I wouldn't be texting you. Your in the lab?"-SH
And she texted back, "SHERLOCK!THANK GOD! Yeah,why?"-MH
"Want to help me with a case?"-SH
"Of course :) "MH
Sherlock smiled. "Ok, she'll do it."
"This is actually happening..."John gasped.
Mary shook her head..."What's more, my parents told me my brother died in a fire..."