Hello, my dear readers! This is a bit longer than a normal drabble, I'd say, but I just couldn't fit all I wanted about the Black Edelweiss Institute in less. *shivers* Please enjoy!

Home

He was far from home. Running through an endless maze of dark, unfeeling stone corridors, the faint, echoing sound of footsteps resounding through the place.

His mind raced in time with his swift sprints, but each trail of thought lead to an impasse - much like these dim passages. The faint shrill of a whistle reverberated through the cold halls, the pounding of blended footsteps echoing from every direction; they were coming at him from everywhere…there was no place to hide, nowhere to run where they would not inevitably find him, and then…

He had heard the wailing and screaming for mercy no matter what area he entered in that godforsaken place, felt the clammy, twitching fingers clutching desperately at him from the barred doors along the passages, smelt the coppery scent of rooms covered in blood and seen the faces twisted in irreversible distress.

For countless hours, he had fought for mere survival in that dark, sinister, merciless asylum that seemed from the inside like an abyss isolated from the safe world around. Alone, he faced the scarred, abusive brutes who played the role of doctor's assistants; unaided by a soul, he had discovered clues and pieces of the puzzle that would be the end of this blood-splattered institute.

Now, he was unaided by a soul in the world, fleeing brainwash, torture, and ultimately death at the hands of the bloodthirsty, deranged monster who dared call himself a doctor of medicine.

Moreover, even if he by some miracle survived the Black Edelweiss Institute, he had risen his utmost nemesis nearly from the very grave itself, and God only know how long it would be before Moriarty, his dark genius mixed with his new-found savage, obsessive insanity, sought his revenge. The Professor was no less than hell-bent only upon one thing, and one alone: watching Sherlock Holmes die and feeling the satisfaction of knowing he had done it.

He was physically near the point of collapse, mentally and emotionally traumatized by all he'd seen and done in that nightmarish place, and uncontrollably and irrationally terrified - more so than he could ever remember being in his life.

He donned his disguise, though he knew it was more than likely useless now that he had been discovered, and ran through the only door in the room.

He was just in time to see two figures entering through the atrium double doors in the vestibule.

Arguing heatedly with the dragon of a secretary, followed closely by the Swiss inspector he had obediently retrieved, was the only thing in all the world that could save him, could bring him out from that horror and grief by which he had been surrounded for so many endless hours, could bring him home again.

It was Watson.

I know that in the game Holmes wasn't quite this distressed, but that's only because...well...it's a game, and it's not like you can make a character in a game act a certain way and it work right, since it's not an actor, but a player, controlling him. And, to be perfectly honest, after everything, this was something of how I myself was feeling there at the end! *blushes* After that Moriarty thing, I was just like, "WHAT NEXT?!" And then he ran through the door and Watson was there, "coming to his rescue," and if it'd been me, I probably would've cried or something. (I get really into stories, in case you can't tell. *hehe*) And I think Holmes was feeling something of the same way - I mean, why else would he've run blindly into the lobby, unless he was just freaked out? He had no way of knowing Watson had come, right? :)
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and please leave a little girl a nice review?? *biggrin*