(Minor edits made, nothing to worry about. New chapter coming Thursday. That I promise.)
John's P.O.V.
When the cab pulled up to the flat, I cursed and got out. I could feel the batteries on my suit starting to give way. Climbing the stairs, hoping Lestrade and Anderson had been brilliant enough to place a charger here too, I called out for Sherlock. I opened the door and came face to face with Mrs. Hudson.
"John! Oh my! I'm sorry dear! I didn't know you were here. Is Sherlock with you?" she asked.
I furled my eyebrows together. "He's not here? But he said he was coming here. Oh crap. I'll be back later!" I shouted as I ran down the stairs.
"Where are you going? John?"
I yelled back up the stairs. "To find Sherlock!"
Hailing a taxi, I made my way back to the cemetery, hoping, praying that Sherlock hadn't done anything stupid.
Sherlock's P.O.V.
I sat down at the cybercafe and after ordering a cup of coffee- black, two sugars please- I started looking up ways to kill ghosts. I remembered once reading somewhere that salt was a way to ward them off, but I had dismissed the article because it hadn't seemed very important. Now I looked for it again.
"Here you go, sir. Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked.
"No, thank you though. This will be all," I shook my head.
She smiled politely and walked off, and I absentmindedly reached for the coffee. Taking a sip I forced myself to swallow. I could smell and taste the mercury that spiked the drink. I knew this was another attempt on my life, but I honestly couldn't take it anymore. Let them try if they wished. Dying right now would be a blessing.
Clicking on a site that looked promising, I started to read. It looked like this had been written by two brothers from the US. With any luck, this would help some.
"Ghosts are people who refused to go with their reaper when they died. If not taken care of, they will go vengeful and they will kill people. If they were murdered, they will start with those who were responsible. Then they must be killed," I read, speaking softly under my breath. "To kill a ghost you must first find out who the ghost was."
I chuckled. Well, that was done. The ghost was Mycroft. That was one step I had already done.
"Next you need to know if the ghost's body was cremated or buried. If it was buried, then the answer may be as simple as salt and burn the bones. That should get rid of your ghost. If they were cremated you will have to look for an object that they would be attached to. In that case, you would simply salt and burn the object."
I wrote down a few notes on the piece of paper next to me. I heard the bell on the cafe door jingle. Looking up a chill went down my spine. It was the woman who had taken me from John's house. She hadn't seemed to see me, so I went back to my reading.
"While doing this you will need to protect yourself. The best two things you can use is one, salt. Iron, pure iron, also is very useful. It and salt will make your ghost disappear for some time, buying you a bit of time. Some signs that there's a ghost near is that the room or area will get extremely chilly and lights may flicker. There is one other..."
I jumped as my laptop was closed, cutting me off from my reading. The lady who had walked in earlier now sat in front of me smiling like we were on a date. She handed me a cup of tea- blackberry lemon- and leaned forward in anticipation. I sat there, unsure what to say until she let out a heavy sigh.
"My name is Amelia. Amelia Reeves. I know we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but it wasn't my wish to do that. I was being forced," she said, her steel gray eye sparkling. "But I'm done with them. I want to help you."
"How can I trust you? I don't even know if your name really is Amelia."
She rolled her eyes, a common thing with her. "Yes, you do. Besides, I'm going to be killed for even talking to you. I might as well be helpful. I'm just going to warn you, by the way, that your coffee is spiked with mercury."
I eyed it unhappily. "Yes, I know. The taste was very distinct," I scowled.
Rapid gunfire sounded outside and both Amelia and I dove under the table. A panicked look went through her eyes and she started to speak but was drowned out as more gunfire was heard. People in the streets started to shout and we army crawled through the café. Exiting through the backdoor, we started to run towards the closest alley exit.
"That has to be them. Take this. Don't lose it. I urge you to have John Watson help you," she said as she handed me a binder. "Also, Sherlock. I am extremely sorry about your brother. None of them planned on killing him. They had expected John Watson to find you quicker than he had. I apologize on their, and mine, behalf."
"Sorry doesn't bring him back," I muttered.
She nodded. "I know. But it can help clear your mind. Now I have to be going. Good luck."
She ran off and I took off in a different direction. This wasn't going to end well, but I had no choice, but to go along with it.
I only wish I had my brother to help with it all.
Hi... Yeah. I know. I'm a horrible person for not updating sooner. To be fair I have found a show that interested me much more than Sherlock... SUPERNATURAL! Which in case you remember, I asked in the last chapter (I know, no one actually remembers that chapter) where the last line of dialogue came from. The answer was Supernatural! Dean said it in season two. So the shout-outs go to...
Bunny's Daughter
vanskikumar423
Congrats to those two, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, no this will not become a crossover and please review!
Best Regards,
SPN221B