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Chapter 8
Close to nowhere
I wake the same way of the last few days; my throat dry and head pounding. Only this time it's not self-inflicted, and someone has kindly removed the keys and phone from my pocket. I've been placed in the recovery position and laid out on something more comfortable than I deserve. It allows me briefly to imagine that I am back at Baker Street, with soft warm breath gracing the back of my neck and long arms wound tightly about my chest. Instead reality stabs through the flimsy trick that is played on me in the place between wakefulness and sleep, leaving the last few days to descend upon my heart like concrete.
I find myself in a beautifully decorated period room with a large sash window and billowing velvet curtains. Dark oak furniture frames the room's panels and old tapestries adorn the walls. It all smells of money, power, prestige and social standing.
Mycroft.
Large silver locks hang from the windows and the coloured glass has been recently reinforced. My shoe laces are missing and my trusty Swiss Army knife no longer in my possession.
Suicide watch. How novel.
I try the door to find it locked from the outside. Before I can begin pounding, a small intercom buzzes from its position on the wall.
"I wouldn't start a scene if I were you John. Your Doctors are under strict instructions to keep you safe and they take a rather 'chemical' approach to that as you have already seen."
"You return none of my phone calls and then pull a stunt like this?"
"It's for your own good Doctor."
"For my own good? You drugged and abducted me! Let me out of here right now or I'll break this door down. You know I'm capable."
"Not until I am satisfied that you mean yourself no permanent harm. I made my brother a promise and I intend to keep it."
"Stop hiding behind this damn intercom and face me man." I bang loudly on the door and test it with my shoulder. But it's my shouting that seems to drive a response from him, and quickly. Within seconds there is the sound of a lock being undone.
He strides in with a falsity of confidence and his head held high. But as I take in his appearance properly he looks slightly drawn and pale, with his usual impeccable finish slightly off to the trained eye. The last conversation I had with this man plays over in my head and with it the ease of which he betrayed my dear friend stabs at my numbed senses. I lose the last little bit of control I have and pin the elder Holmes to the wall.
Out of nowhere, two large men appear at my side intent on repeating their previous 'care plan'. But Mycroft holds them off with the smallest motion of his hand and they stand down like trained dogs. My hands feel the increased rise and fall of his chest as they hold him by the collar, desperate to claw back some justice for the man I have lost. I believe it would give me great pleasure in hitting this stony man right now; something I know Sherlock could never bring himself to do. Theirs was a war of words.
"Let the Doctor say what he must."
"I assure you Mycroft, I will not be doing away with myself just yet. I have things to do. Things to put right, for him."
"So you didn't believe him then, when he said he was a fake?"
I stare at him with my own disbelief. "Don't you ever ask me that question again do you hear?"
"You're forgetting I've heard the phone call John; his 'note'."
It's some sort of test that I can't figure out and he waits for my reaction but gets only a stony silence in return. He removes himself from my grasp and I slide down the door to hold my head in my hands.
"Will you do me a couple of favours John?"
"Not until you do a few for me. Some things I shouldn't have to ask you to do. Have his body released. You can speed this up, don't pretend otherwise."
He takes a second to stare at a spot on the wall behind me then answers quickly.
"Alright John. And the second?"
"Help me find Moriarty. He's scattered back into the woodpile and the game is not over, not for me. I owe him a bullet to the head."
"James Moriarty…is in hand. I assure you."
"No." I shake my head slowly; a tear running down my cheek and not caring who knows it. "Not good enough Mycroft. It's all too late. You left it all too late."
He stares at his shoes; a gesture of admittance and guilt alien to his persona. I had never seen a likeness between the two brothers before; I had always thought he lacked the younger Holmes' sharp angles and harsh beauty. But there was something in his expression now that reminded me somewhat of Sherlock. When he believed that no one was looking, he could appear as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. People always thought that it was the chase that my friend had loved, but I was the only one to be allowed his true hidden wish; to be useful. To be human. I had always been watching when he though no one had been paying attention. I had always seen who he was to become.
"My brother was lucky to have you John; in this situation he had gotten himself into."
"Situation?" I shout. "He's dead, you machine of a man. He was your brother and you sold your soul, and his for that matter for a glimpse into the mind of a mad man. What does that make you?"
"Keep your voice down John."
It is a stand-off of silence, then some sort of alarm sounds from down the hall and the two burly men stand to attention awaiting their new instructions.
"Get him out of here. Now."
"Wait, what is that Mycroft? What are you up to here?"
The suited monkeys each take an elbow and steer me to the door.
"I believe you said you would do a favour for me John," he says straightening his tie in the mirror and smoothing down his hair.
"Tell me what's going on."
"Shut him up for God's sake and take him to where we discussed. Now. Hurry please."
More commotion stems from down the hall.
"My God. You have him don't you? You have Moriarty."
As I'm pulled from the room I catch two more run to a room at the end of the long hall way. A considerable amount of noise emanates from its walls, none of which I can make out before I am hauled away.
"You wait for me Mycroft" I shout after him. "You must let me speak to him before you see him to his end."
An hour later the rain hits the large pane of glass behind as I sit uncomfortably on the smooth leather chair. I believe it to be the most daylight I've seen since that day and it stings my eyes.
"Why today?"-She says.
"You want to hear me say it?"
I had not gone quietly. Talking over what had happened to me on my return from Afghanistan had been hard enough. But this, this was brutal and cruel. I was not ready to work through what had happened, not yet and she knew it. I had stopped going to see her two weeks after I had met Sherlock. I had been high on new energy and she had been full of warnings about 'inappropriate attachments'.
"Eighteen months since your last appointment."
"You read the papers, watch the TV. You know why I'm here. He summoned you. I hope you're being paid admirably."
She ignores my comment. "What happened john?"
Lestrade is waiting once I am allowed to leave; my two 'guards' satisfied at my compliance once I had been shown back to his car.
"They have him Greg."
"Who?"
"Moriarty. Mycroft has him for his own purposes and I'm afraid he'll be killed before I can get to him. Before we can seek to undo some of this. I have to go back."
He lets out a deep breath and places both hands tightly upon the steering wheel in front. He squints through the rain as it hits the windscreen.
"He said that you would say this."
"I heard him Greg, I'm sure of it. We have to go to Mycroft's estate. I know you believe the same as I, even though you haven't said it. Tell me that you know Sherlock was lying when he said he was a fake. I know you will have read the transcript of our last phone call."
"You have to understand, it's difficult for me right now. I'm not at Scotland Yard. They've suspended me and I'm up on charges of misconduct."
"Then you have as little to lose as I have."
"John please, this isn't good for you."
"Damn it Greg, you owe him too."
"Stop this John. Just stop." He turns to me with sorrow in his eyes and his voice loses its harsh edge. "Tomorrow morning. 8 am."
"What?"
"A quiet funeral. A few attendees only."
To be continued….