The Consequences of Sacrifice: Family Secrets (Part One)
This is a little something I typed up one day while I was in court. I probably shouldn't have, because it was during a preliminary hearing involving a murder, and I was trying to distract myself from the gory details.
I can only hope I didn't smile while I was writing, or it would have been as appropriate as giggling at a crime scene!
I am not too happy with the beginning, but it gets better as I go. So please be patient.
John sighed as he tried to focus his attention back to his blog, trying to decide what he could safely post about the events of the last week, and finding the task extremely difficult.
Technically, he should be enjoying this unexpected day off, courtesy of his boss, Dr. Anthuster, who had called John over the weekend to inform him that he was to be given a few days off (paid, of course) as a "gesture of appreciation for being such a hard-working and dedicated employee over the years."
Personally, John would have been flattered, had he not sensed that a certain government employee who-must-not-be-named wasn't involved.
And, of course, it would have been more difficult keeping his patient in bed if he had to go to work.
"JOHN!"
John groaned aloud and quickly set his laptop to the side. He got up and strolled down the hall towards the bedroom and opened the door.
"What is it?!"
His patient looked up, lips pursed in a petulant scowl. "Don't you think it's time to uncuff me now?"
John couldn't help but grin slightly at this suggestion. "I don't think so. For one thing, you will just try to sneak out and injure yourself again. Second, I figure you should be used to handcuffs!"
"You're cruel, Doctor! Whatever happened to the Hippocratic Oath? 'Thou shall do no harm?'"
"That's strange, coming from you." John retorted.
"Please? What if I gave my word of honor that I will not leave the flat for any reason unless you specifically say so?"
John hesitated. Did he really want to risk it? After all, his patient had tried to leave the flat twice in the last five days.
And if she escaped, then he would never hear the end of it from Sherlock.
"Do you promise to behave, and to not leave the flat under any circumstance?"
Irene grinned as she gave the ex-army doctor a military salute with the one hand that wasn't currently shackled to the bed. "I most solemnly promise not to leave the flat, nor endanger my health, or do anything else except to relax and recuperate until you say it is alright for me to leave. Now will you please uncuff me? These handcuffs are really chaffing my wrist!"
"How many times have your clients begged you for the same thing?" John smirked wickedly.
"Release me and then I will tell you about it." Irene smiled playfully. Thankfully, the deep bruises on her face were quickly fading, and the swelling on her right cheek was gone. Before too much longer, it would be difficult to remember that she was ever injured in the first place.
Sighing in defeat, John reached into his trouser pocket and got the spare set of keys for the specialty cuffs that Sherlock had used to secure Irene to the bed. "I'll give you one chance! But if you try to escape again, I swear that not even the British Government could save you!"
"Oh, feisty! No wonder your dear wife always seems so happy all the time, Mr. Three Continents!" Irene snickered as John released her. She yawned, and then slowly stretched her arms out in front of her.
John rolled his eyes, already used to Irene's not-so-subtle innuendos. "A gentleman never tells about such matters, Irene. Now, what do you need while I am here? Something to eat?"
"You don't need to trouble yourself, John. I promised I would stay until it is safe to leave. So I will behave." Irene replied evenly as she rested her head back onto the pillows with a self-satisfied smile. "Besides, I can't just leave without saying good-bye! Sheridan would never forgive me!"
Three hours later, and Irene had stayed true to her word. When John checked on her an hour later, he discovered her stretched out on the bed, the papers she was reading discarded on the floor and the telly on one of those boring daytime shows. As quietly as he could, John turned off the telly and picked up the newspapers before leaving Irene to her nap.
Irene didn't stir once during the entire time he was there.
Which was good. She needed to rest, no matter how much she tried to deny it.
Like Sherlock, Irene had proven to be a most difficult patient. Always arguing about the simplest things, such as wanting to roam the streets to look for the men who had attacked her as opposed to resting and letting herself heal. Complaining incessantly about how bored she was and how cruel John and Sherlock were being for keeping her in bed. And often refusing to take her pain medication until she was practically withering with discomfort.
In short, Irene was just as bad as Sherlock.
Maybe worse. After all, Sherlock had never threatened to go after John with a riding crop.
But he had threatened to set all of John's jumpers on fire once. And had actually managed to destroy two of them before Mrs. Hudson caught him in the act.
So John figured that if Irene carried out her threat, then Mary would save him.
Currently, John and Irene were the only two in the flat. Ms. Hudson was out visiting her bridge club, Mary was at work, and Sheridan was in school.
And Sherlock?
Well, he was busy doing...whatever it is that he is doing!
Personally, John was surprised that Sherlock had even left the flat at all. The last few days consisted of him watching over Irene and tending to her...
Stop it, John! Just. Stop. It!
Stop thinking about Irene sleeping in Sherlock's bed. Of Irene and Sherlock spending hours in there together...
Agh! A bit not good that!
John shook his head as he tried to clear his mind. It wasn't as though anything was going on, after all! Irene was hurt, and Sherlock was being surprisingly considerate. He would bring Irene food and medication, and even managed to roll the television into the bedroom so that Irene could indulge in watching mindless telly during the hours that she wasn't slumbering away, curled up like a bird whose wings had been broken.
Still, it was better than the state that she was in when she first arrived.
Five Days Earlier
"JOHN!"
John Watson sighed as he heard the baritone voice bellow through the door. "I don't believe this!"
Was it too much to ask Sherlock for him to enjoy one night with his wife?!
Mary giggled good-naturedly as she slowly unwrapped herself from John. "Do you think it is a new case? Or do you think he hurt himself again?"
"All I can say is that someone better have a medical emergency!" John grumbled. Taking a moment to smooth out his hair and fix his rumpled jumper, he got off the couch and stomped over to the front door, muttering under his breath.
"Sherlock!" John growled when he fumbled with the lock on his door. "You better have a good excuse for this! It's eleven o'clock at night! So unless it is a medical emergency, you are in big trouble!"
"It is an emergency, Uncle John!" Sheridan called out breathlessly from behind the door.
John frowned, actual fear starting to course through him. Hastedly, he opened the door to his flat.
Sheridan was there, looking agitated, her long flowing hair bouncing up and down from her shoulders as she fidgeted impatiently. But one glance told John immediately that she, at least, was not in need of a doctor's care.
Sherlock, however, was expressionless. Unlike Sheridan, he has apparently been outside, as was evident by the sodden Belstaff coat and scarf he wore.
And they were both stained with blood.
"It's not mine." Sherlock answered John's unspoken question. "I went out to meet with members of the homeless network. I was returning home when I discovered Ms. Adler a few blocks away from here."
"Ms. Adler...you mean Irene Adler?" John asked, bewildered.
Sherlock rolled his eyes to express his displeasure of John's statement. "How many women do you know who go by the name 'Ms. Adler?' Honestly, John! Your talent is stating the obvious is matched only by the idiots at the Yard!"
John scoffed. "Well, pardon me for being surprised! But what is she doing back in London anyway? Wasn't she suppose to remain in hiding?"
"The reason for her visit is not important right now, John. Currently, she is in need of your medical prowess."
"She's hurt pretty bad, Uncle John!" Sheridan broke in, her blue-green eyes widened in alarm. "Can you help her?"
"What happened?" Mary asked worriedly, coming up to stand behind John. "Was there an accident?"
"Based on what I have been able to observe from the evidence, it appears that she was attacked." Sherlock said curtly. "There are bruises and injuries indicative of a severe beating. As she is still alive, I deduce that she had managed to escape. However, that means that there are people out there that still wish to do her harm. For that reason, she cannot go to a hospital."
John nodded. Given Irene's past, he was not surprised at her reluctance. "Give me a second! I'll get my bag!"
Mary turned to John. "May I help? I'm not squeamish."
Sherlock looked at Mary with surprise. "You are not angry?"
Mary smirked. "I am not heartless, Sherlock! Besides, John was born to help people! Do you think I would keep him from that?"
Sherlock nodded curtly before looking back at John. "I'll be waiting upstairs. Bring your kit to my bedroom. That is where I left Ms. Adler."
And with that, Sherlock turned around and raced up the stairs.
"And I'll go and find more blankets." Sheridan replied as she followed behind her father.
"Wait!" John cried out. "Sheridan! Aren't you a little young for this!?"
Sheridan looked back at John with a bemused look on her face. "What do you mean? I've seen people hurt before! I want to help! And besides, if anything happened to Irene, then who will cuddle with Dad?"
Sherlock looked down the steps at his daughter, exasperated. "I do not cuddle with that woman!"
"Yes you do, Dad!" Sheridan countered. "Or, at least, she cuddles with you, and you allow it!"
"I do not, Sheridan Joanne Morray-Holmes!"
"Do too!"
"I do not! And stop arguing, or you will be put in time-out!" Sherlock demanded before he looked back at John and Mary. "And could we please desist from the interrogation for the time being?"
"Of course, Sherlock!" John said stoically. "We need to go and save your cuddle partner, after all."
If looks could kill, then John would have been reduced to a pile of ash in an instant.
"You are fortunate that I am in need of your medical expertise, John." Sherlock growled as he glared at the shorter man. "Although Ms. Adler may need Molly's assistance before too long if you keep standing around!"
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" John countered.
It turned out that Irene had suffered a few broken ribs, several contusions, a cut lip, and several other scrapes and bruises. In a broken whisper, she related how she had come to London to deal with some "business" (the nature of which was not explained at the time) when she was knocked unconscious and attacked by two men. She swore that she did not recognize them, and she had no idea why they picked her.
Irene had managed to escape by landing a blow which almost certainly broke one of her assailant's nose, which distracted them long enough for her to lurch forward through the maze of London's narrow alleyways before she finally collapsed a few blocks away.
Sherlock had apparently stumbled upon her by complete chance. He had finished meeting with several members of his homeless network to pay them for their services in a recent case that he solved. He was heading home when he noticed a fresh blood stain, in the shape of a hand, on the brick wall inside a narrow alley.
He followed it, and soon found Irene, shivering, bleeding, and unconscious on the dark payment, her clothes torn and her purse missing.
Technically, the best course of action would have been to call an ambulance and get Irene to the hospital. But given Irene's past and the fact that she was still technically "dead" (as far as the general public and her enemies were concerned, at least), taking the former dominatrix to a hospital would have certainly alerted people that she was still alive.
So Sherlock made the decision to take Irene back to the flat, calling upon John's medical knowledge and skills to heal her.
John had to admit that Sherlock had certainly impressed him with his conduct over the last few days. Instead of siding with Irene (which John half-expected to happen, given Sherlock's own disregard of his health), he actually insisted that Irene stay in bed and rest while he searched the city for her attackers.
Sheridan, bless her heart, had also taken it upon herself to see to it that Irene was resting comfortably and was Irene's most frequent visitor outside from Sherlock. She would spend hours prattling about school, what was going on at the Yard, and so on.
And Irene, who probably would have been bored out of her mind otherwise, seemed to genuinely enjoy the company of the little girl who, in all honesty, was probably one of the few that Irene did not mind to see her in such a vulnerable state.
Mycroft, the interfering prick that he was, had come by yesterday, complete in his pin-striped suite and twirling that damned umbrella.
It was during this visit that John finally learned why Irene was back in London.
As it turned out, the shadow of Moriarty, almost three years after the Fall, continued to plague them all.
Moriarty was gone, of course. Finally dead and gone. So were the remains of his empire. However, as John had learned from Mycroft's business, several of Moriarty's rivals had begun to form their own empires. None of them had come close to Moriarty in terms of intelligence or shear insanity, of course. But they were all potentially dangerous, and Her Majesty's Government was not about to wait around for another criminal web to form under it's watch.
Several of the world governments, who did not wish to see the rise of another criminal empire under the direction of another Moriarty, were already engaging in various operations to keep the threat contained. However, it would take some time for agents to get established within these criminal networks.
Mycroft Holmes, on behalf of the British Government, did not feel that there was much time to waste, so he opted to deal with several non-official channels with the contacts need to infiltrate these organizations quickly.
Thus, Mycroft had contacted Irene Adler, who had personal knowledge of most of Moriarty's rivals. The plan was for her to go undercover and spy on the organizations from within.
Irene was more than happy to assist. Apparently, she had feared Moriarty more than she had ever let on, and the idea of another Moriarty emerging from the criminal underworld was something that she could not accept.
Sherlock, on the other hand, seemed less enthused by the idea, but was far too prideful to admit to it openly.
However, if it turned out that Irene's attackers had in fact knew of her identity, then the mission was severely compromised.
And if they decided to return to finish the job...
The sound of several footsteps resounding on the steps just outside the sitting room suddenly echoed through the room, jolting John out of his revere and bringing him back to the present.
Someone began to knock on the door. Politely at first, then impatiently.
Someone was outside. Or at least several someones.
Hastily closing his laptop, John rushed to the door, silently cursing himself for forgetting to retrieve his pistol from his flat.
But who was at the door?
John had no time to wonder as he heard the unmistakable click of the lock being undone, and the door swinging open...
Duh duh duh! Evil cliffhanger alert!
I am so sorry I haven't been able to update recently! Things got very hectic around here (my birthday, work, court cases, a longer-than-expected trip out-of-town, etc.) So I will post two chapters today as my punishment.
A special thanks to Scottish Bluebell, my extremely loyal blogger, for without whom I would have given up posting a long time ago.
To anyone else, thank you for reading my story. I hope you will take time to review (you love it, you hate it, I should be banned from writing, etc.). I'm not picky.
In the next part of this drabble series, we see the uninvited guests and the fallout. Plus, a surprising secret about Irene is revealed to all.
OC Chase Douglas-"So what's the secret?"
Peaceful Defender (scoffing)-"Do you think I am going to tell you?"
OC Chase Douglas-"So you are still mad at the whole 'kidnapping thing?'"
Peaceful Defender-"What do you think? How do I explain to people that my characters from a story have kidnapped me because they want me to continue their story? As if people didn't think I wasn't mentally imbalanced enough as it is!"
OC Chase Douglas-"Well, you are an attorney! Hey, by the way! I heard about this nation-wide poll on the radio yesterday! People were asked which profession had the most psychopaths! And guess what!"
Peaceful Defender (rolling her eyes in mock dismay)-"Attorneys are number one?"
OC Chase Douglas-"Nope! Apparently, you guys have been replaced-by company CEOs! How lame is that! You need to do better!"
Peaceful Defender-"I'll keep that in mind. As soon as I post the next part of this drabble...right now."