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Chapter Three. A Request.

I let the girl sleep, feeling she would be better for it; even though I was anxious to hear any news of Holmes. As reliable as any news from a raving girl could be; I slept fitfully, fearing whatever the girl would tell me, haunted by my own imaginings. By the time dawn had broken I had decided it was useless to lie in bed without sleep, so I rose. I crept as quietly as possible into the bedroom where the girl was sleeping, to my surprise she was not asleep but sitting calmly on the edge of the bed staring into the growing sunlight. To my tired eyes she looked quite ethereal, almost ghostly; her pale skin translucent in the glowing light. As she heard me approach she turned her tearstained face towards me. I sat next to her on the bed and placed my hand over her cold one, she shivered.

"He did not think it would be this terrible." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Who did not?" I struggled to contain the emotion in my voice, every nerve in my body wanting to shake the girl out of her stupor.

"Mr Holmes, I saw him crying once. He did not see me. I hid, it is always better to hide around him in the dark.

Her words confused me, the idea of Holmes crying was as impossible as his association with this nymph of a girl.

"Did he send you here?"

"He sent me to fetch you. He told me he needs you."

"Why did he send you? And from where?"

I was aware my questions were becoming more urgent but I did not care. I believed that Holmes needed me but I had not the patience to deal with the girl's cryptic comments.

"Because I can get places others can't. He is a far away place."

"Where? Tell me."

"He speaks their language. He says he has relatives there, they know him, they are important." Her condition was beginning to worry me. Her eyes were barely moving and her pupils were dilated, I placed a hand across her forehead, she felt warm and clammy. My head was spinning with a thousand thoughts, not one that I could give my full attention to. The only place in the world I could think of where all she had said would make sense would be France. Where in France I did not know and it was obvious that no more information was to be gained from the girl. I sighed, she turned to face me, removing her hand from mine she pulled something from the pocket of her dress and handed it to me. It was a yellow and crumpled piece of paper; I unfolded it and nearly died of shock. It was a note, written in Holmes' hand;

My Dear Watson,

If this has reached you in one piece, then I may start to believe in the existence of a God. I need you to come to Paris as soon as you are able. I am in deep waters my friend and I need a man whom I can trust. Naturally my thoughts turned to you. Bring the girl with you, she is valuable and has been through much. Perhaps she would be safer in London but I cannot risk it. I am relying on you Watson, I do not believe you would fail me. Be safe my friend,

S. H

I gazed at the letter in my hands as intensely as the girl was gazing at me. I felt relief and fear. Holmes was alive, but in need. I felt sick and confused. I stood and walked over to the window, allowing the morning sunlight to warm my suddenly cold skin. I could feel her eyes and I turned.

"Will you come?" Tears had begun to fill her eyes and I could sense her hysteria returning. I walked over to her and took both her hands.

"Yes, I'll come." Relief seemed to wash over her and a smile broke upon her angelic features, I returned it, "Now you must sleep."

She nodded and sighed, lying back on the bed; within a minute she was asleep. If she was feeling a shred of what I was then she would have found sleep impossible. Asleep she looked almost peaceful. I wondered what she had been through, what she had been before this war had begun, some carefree beauty with the life ahead of her full of promise and happiness. Now she was in shock and damaged, another young life lost to the onslaught of war. Yes, I could believe Holmes would cry at this.

I left her sleeping and went down to the kitchen, it was the maid's day off and all was silent. I put the kettle on the stove for some tea; I was in need of something calming. I needed to think about what to do next. I took the tea back to the drawing room and rekindled the fire; I had just sat down and raised the cup to my lips when I heard the front door. My wife entered flushed and breathless looking the very picture of health and normality. She smiled as she saw me, then just as quickly her smile disappeared.

"John! What on earth's the matter? You look terrible!" She rushed over and knelt in front of me.

"I'm fine, just tired, I got very little sleep last night I'm afraid." I attempted a smile but the effort was too much.

"What has happened? Is it Mr. Holmes?" Her voice grew quiet and worried; Elaine had always held a soft spot for Holmes.

"In a way, he has sent for me."

"Sent for you? I don't understand."

"I'm afraid nor do I. he has sent a girl of all things to summon me to Paris. He says I must leave as soon as possible."

Elaine remained at my feet, calm and composed, her eyes never leaving the floor.

"What girl?"

"She is nothing but a child, and I fear, gradually losing her mind. She is upstairs asleep. He insists on my bringing her with me."

"Oh John, the poor child. Do you think he's very involved in the war?"

"Quite possibly, he's always involved in something." I smiled and Elaine smiled back.

"Yes, well for once I'm glad of it, I feel better knowing Mr. Holmes is on our side, even if the methods he employs are somewhat strange."

"As am I my dear."

"Will you go?" She brought her eyes to my face and I could not bear to look into them.

"I fear I have to. I will not go if you do not wish it."

"How could I wish it? Whatever Mr. Holmes is involved in, it is most certainly not safe. But, I appreciate your friendship," After a pause she added, "Go John, be with him. I'm sure that Mr. Holmes, like all of us needs some one with him at such a time as this."

I took her face in my hand and I kissed her, I could feel her tears. I held her to me for a long time before I left to check on the girl. She was still sleeping. I had decided to go and see Mycroft before I made any arrangements to leave; it was a visit I fear I will never forget.