A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 34 – The East Wind

It was in the evening the next day.

Sherlock had been handcuffed and taken away to a holding area while they discussed what to do with him. Mycroft and Marion were still somewhat shocked, but Mycroft's had worn off sooner. With his wits about him he had gone about seeing to his sister-in-law and then his brother.

Marion then recovered and asked to have a night with him where she could say goodbye and he could be with the children. Hardly a normal request to be granted to a murderer, but Mycroft pulled strings to allow it. It was Christmas after all.

"One night, Marion."

"I know."

"I am not going to have him go to prison. I am going to have him in exile."

"I know."

"He won't be coming back."

She had looked down and swallowed hard. "I know." She said weakly.

He stepped to her and wrapped an arm about her shoulders as she turned from him. "I promise you and the children will be well looked after."

She nodded weakly.

He sighed. "Come then." He said leading her away.

ZzZ

Sherlock looked up from the prison cell he was sitting in as the door opened and Marion stepped in with Mycroft behind her. He managed a small smile as he looked at her tear stained face.

She walked to him as he rose to his feet, almost collapsing against him. "Sherlock…" She gasped.

He held onto her and sighed into her auburn hair. "God, I love you." He whispered. "Forgive me."

She looked up at him. "Why?" She asked. "Why did you do it?"

"You and Mary are free now." He said simply.

"But you killed him in cold blood." She protested.

"My motivations were to keep you, Mary, and my family safe. I have done that. I am prepared to live with the consequences." He said.

"You selfish bastard!" She suddenly cried and slapped him, hard across his face. "Did you even think about me, Lizzy, or even Kerrin?" She yelled up at him.

"It was exactly whom I was thinking about." He said evenly. He reached and grabbed her arms, holding her fast, looking at her. He held her arms at her wrists. She fought and then he leaned down and kissed her, hard, desperate for her to understand, to still love him, to not be angry.

The bruising pressure of his kiss made her whimper and protest, but then she stopped struggling and kissed him. He pulled back, breathless, looking into her eyes as his forehead rested against hers. "I did it out of love. Love for you, love for John, love for Mary, love for the children…Love Marion." He said closing his eyes.

Mycroft leaned on his umbrella. "Marion, you have the evening. Do as you will." He said. He stepped out of the way as a man came forward and knelt, locking a ankle GPS locator to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at his brother evenly as the man stood up. "As though I would leave my wife."

Mycroft shrugged. "I am sure it won't be too much of a bother." He smiled. "The sacrifices one makes." He then stepped to the side. "Off you go then." He said. "There is a room ready for you. Marion knows where."

Sherlock nodded and walked with his wife to a waiting car.

They arrived at Milestone Hotel Kensington as the sun was touching the horizon. Sherlock looked at his wife as they walked in, hand-in-hand into the hotel. Marion walked to the stairway and led her husband up two flights of stairs.

She then pulled out her keycard and swiped it before a door. The door clicked unlocked and she pressed down on the handle, stepping into the room, smiling at him as she did. He followed her like a love-sick fool into the spacious room. The door shut behind him and he looked about.

"Marion…I…"

She turned to him and pressed a finger to his lips. "No." She said. "We have one night, Sherlock."

He kissed her deeply sighing as he held her.

The door clicked and he lifted his head as the door opened to reveal Lizzy and Kerrin. Addy smiled as she walked in holding the young man. Sherlock smiled and knelt as Lizzy ran to him.

"Daddy!" She cried.

He smiled and hugged her to him as he stood up, cradling her small body in his arms. "I love you. Never forget that." He told her as he kissed her neck, sighing as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

Addy passed Marion Kerrin and she smiled at her charge as Marion took her son.

"Thank you Addy." Marion said. "I will see you tomorrow then?"

"Yes. I will come around ten." She said.

Marion nodded and Addy walked out the door. Sherlock went to his son and lifted a hand. The baby grabbed at his nose and held on. Sherlock laughed lightly and then shifted to kiss the tiny palm. Marion sat down. Sherlock did as well, holding his daughter to him as he looked at his family.

His brother had informed him he was to be sent to Eastern Europe again on the assignment he had been offered before. It would be fatal within six months, but for now, Sherlock was here, with his family, for the last time.

He played with his children until Kerrin slept soundly against his chest and Lizzy was rubbing her eyes. He put them both to bed, something he loved to do. He tucked his daughter into the twin bed and dipped to kiss her head. "Remember I always love you, Lizzy. You are my heart and greatest love."

She smiled happily in her half sleep. "Love you too daddy."

His great hand cupped her small head and he blinked a tear. Watching her grow and learn had been one his greatest joys. He had helped create this creature and she was never boring.

He then went to the crib where Marion had laid Kerrin down. The boy was sound asleep, snoring lightly. Sherlock laid a hand on his chest lightly, listening to him breathe. "I love you too Kerrin." He said. "My son, the first born Holmes boy." He smiled and looked up at Marion as she leaned against the door. "You are going to be the man of the house now. You need to watch over your momma for me while I am away."

Marion fought tears as she met Sherlock's gaze and held it.

Sherlock looked away after a few moments and kissed his son, inhaling the soft baby scent that was so calming. He closed his eyes knowing he would never see this young man learn as he had Lizzy and it hurt to know that.

He rose to his feet and looked at his wife as she moved from his way. He shut the door lightly and watched his wife's retreating form to the main room. He followed her.

He dropped into a chair as they shared tea and scones, talking about nothing and everything, avoiding the painful truth that this would be their last night together.

After a time he rose to his feet, hearing the soft music from the Conservatory below drifting up the stairwell to them. He held out his hand to his wife. She took the offered hand and he pulled her to him, dancing a soft waltz across the floor with her in his arms.

The music ended and they still moved in a slow waltz. Marion had her head pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beat and his slow calm breaths. She took a deep breath.

His hand moved up her spine and he kissed her, softly at first, then with more pressure. Soon his hands were locked about her neck, her head fitted to his palm as the other hand gently worked up under her clothing, caressing skin as they kissed deeply.

Panting they looked at each other for a moment and Sherlock smiled at his wife before reaching to pull her clothing off, his hands steady as he kissed her, pulling the buttons of her blouse. He needed her, now, naked, his. His to ravish, his to love, and his to be with on this, his last day in heaven on earth before being sent to hell.

He pressed her backwards, walking them back toward the bedroom, both of them removing his own clothing as they went. He pulled the last of her clothing off and pulled her into the room. She giggled and moved to the bed, a lusty smile on her face.

He stalked to her and climbed over her, his hand locking with hers as kissed her throat as he entered her slowly, joining them as he shifted to kiss her mouth as she moaned softly.

Hours later, as she slept, he remained awake, looking down at her as she slept. She was against his body, his arm under her neck, holding her hand while his other rested on her hip. They had made love several times and his body hummed with the odd restlessness from being sated so much. He looked out over London's skyline and sighed.

She shifted a little and woke, startling as though she thought it was all a dream.

"I'm here." He soothed letting his face drop to next to her shoulder.

She instantly relaxed and sighed as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"I love you." He told her.

"I know." She said softly as she looked at their intertwined hands.

"I would do anything to keep you safe." He said softly. "You and the babies." He kissed her shoulder. "Forgive me."

She looked at him. "I do, Sherlock." She whispered. "I know why." She swallowed. "But the price is high."

"You and Mary will never have to worry about the past. The babies, all three of them will know their mothers as Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Holmes. Nothing more."

She smiled a little. "You are the most honorable man I know. Remember us."

He pulled her to him, as though he would never let her go. "How could I forget my heart?" He asked and then kissed her brow.

She took a breath and looked up at him. "Make me forget tomorrow."

He smiled a little sadly. "I wish that I could save you this pain."

She pulled him over her and kissed him. "Make me forget…" She whispered against his mouth. "Please…"

In that moment, Sherlock knew he could deny his wife nothing. He kissed her, tasting salty tears that were not wholly her own.

ZzZ

Morning came.

Marion and Sherlock had risen early, eating the breakfast that had been brought for them. She was wearing his shirt as she walked around the sitting room. The children still slept as she folded herself into a chair, staring into space.

Sherlock sat, watching her. He wanted to remember her in this soft light, her hair turning molten in the early light, her skin, flawless olive, and her petite form. He memorized her features.

She noticed him looking at her and she smiled a little. "What?" She asked softly.

"Nothing." He said softly.

He walked to the window and she walked to him, wrapping her arms around him as he stood holding his coffee, looking out at the city in the light of the new sunrise. She pressed her head to his back, inhaling his scent, feeling his slim muscled form in her arms.

She spoke, but he did not understand. She was speaking in her native Turkish. He heard Allah and realized she was saying a prayer, perhaps to see him through this and return to her.

"Habibti." He said gently. He turned in her embrace and looked at her. He lifted her hands, kissing the knuckles, his mouth pausing as he kissed her ring finger. He then smiled gently and kissed her softly. "I love you. More than anything else in this world." He looked toward the close door. "The three of you are my world." He paused. "Well the six of you."

She laughed and playfully cuffed his arm. "Stop it."

He smiled more and kissed her. "I do love you."

"I know." She said. "Stay safe, beloved." She whispered.

There was a knock at the door as he looked down at her, holding her to him. He looked over.

"It's time." He said softly.

ZzZ

Mycroft stood at the glass wall of a large meeting room. He had his back to the room and was looking outside. A suited man stood nearby to his right. Marion, wearing a tailored pant suit sat nearby.

"As my colleague is fond of remarking, this country sometimes needs a blunt instrument. Equally, it sometimes needs a dagger…a scalpel wielded with precision and without remorse." Mycroft said. He looked to his left. "There will always come a time when we need Sherlock Holmes."

Several men sitting at tables in the room looked back at him silently, but the man standing near him spoke.

"If this is some expression of familial sentiment ..." The man named Sir Edwin said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, sighed and turned to him. "Don't be absurd. I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion." He looked down for a moment and then turned to Sir Edwin again. "You know what happened to the other one." He looked over at Marion who was sitting quietly, her hands in her lap as she listened.

Sir Edwin looked away, grimacing slightly. Mycroft turned to look out the window again.

"In any event, there is no prison in which we could incarcerate Sherlock without causing a riot on a daily basis. The alternative, however ..." He looked left toward where Lady Smallwood was sitting at a table. "... would require your approval."

"Hardly merciful, Mr. Holmes." She remarked.

"Regrettably, Lady Smallwood, my brother is a murderer." He turned away and looked out of the window again.

Lady Smallwood looked to Marion. "I cannot believe you are not making any protest."

"Her protests have been noted and with all due respect, ignored." Mycroft said. "She understands the decision. It will take time, but it is said it heals all wounds." He looked to his sister-in-law who had a single tear drop from her eye down her cheek. She turned her wedding band on her finger as she looked intently at a spot on the floor before her, barely hearing them.

Lady Smallwood nodded. "Very well."

ZzZ

There was a small airfield outside of London.

A black car drove along the runway toward where an executive jet was stationary on the tarmac. Standing near the nose of the plane, Sherlock, Mycroft, Marion, and a security man watched the car pull up.

Mary got out of the rear door nearest the plane and John from the other. Smiling, Mary walked toward Sherlock, John following behind. She was waddling. Due any day now, she was glowing and looked at Sherlock as she came to him.

"You will look after him for me, won't you?" Sherlock said softly.

"Oh ..." She put her hands on his shoulders and they kissed each other's cheeks. They then hugged tightly or as tightly as her full belly would allow. "... don't worry. I'll keep him in trouble." She said. "Him and Marion both."

He smiled as she released him and pulled back. "That's my girl."

She turned and walked back to where John had stopped a few paces away, and took his hand. John nodded to Sherlock in greeting.

Sherlock turned to his brother. "Since this is likely to be the last conversation I'll have with John Watson ..."

John sighed painfully.

"... would you mind if we took a moment?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft looked a little startled, but then glanced over to the security man and jerked his head toward the side of the plane. The security man, Mycroft, Marion, and Mary walked along the side of the jet toward the wing.

Sherlock turned to John, who smiled at him and nodded.

"So, here we are." John said. Looking vaguely around the airfield and clearing his throat, he stepped closer.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." Sherlock said.

"Sorry?"

"That's the whole of it…if you're looking for baby names."

John chuckled. "No, we've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl."

Sherlock looked at him. "Oh." He said softly. He smiled. "Okay."

They both looked awkwardly anywhere except at each other for several seconds.

"Yeah." John said. He finally turned toward Sherlock again. "Actually, I can't think of a single thing to say."

Sherlock looked down. "No, neither can I." He lifted his head as John stepped closer.

"The game is over." John said softly.

Sherlock looked at him. "The game is never over, John ..." He said firmly, but then his tone became quieter. "... but there may be some new players now. It's okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end."

"What's that?"

"It's a story my brother told me when we were kids. The East Wind…this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path." He sniffed, looking into the distance. "It seeks out the unworthy ..." He met John's eyes. "... and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me."

"Nice!" John said making a face.

"He was a rubbish big brother."

They both smiled and then John looked down, clearing his throat. "So what about you, then?" He lifted his head. "Where are you actually going now?"

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe." Sherlock said sounding somewhat bored.

"For how long?"

Sherlock looked slightly above John's head so as not to meet his eyes. "Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong."

"And then what?"

Sherlock met his gaze for a moment and then looked down thoughtfully before raising his head and gazing off into the distance. He shrugged. "Who knows?" His eyes looked to his wife a moment who was talking softly with Mary and Mycroft.

John nodded and then turned away to look across the airfield again, breathing in deeply.

Sherlock looked directly at him until he turned back and then looked down again. "John, there's something ... I should say; I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since its unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now." He hesitated for a long time. He then drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to John's. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name."

John turned away, giggling almost silently.

Sherlock smiled at him.

John turned back, still smiling. "It's not."

Sherlock shrugged. "It was worth a try."

"We're not naming our daughter after you."

"I think it could work."

John chuckled and then met his eyes.

Sherlock held his gaze for a second and then lowered his eyes. After a moment he took off his right glove and held out his hand. "To the very best of times, John."

For a long moment John hesitated. He then took Sherlock's hand and shook it. They stood there for a couple of seconds and then Sherlock gave John's hand one more small pump before releasing it. He turned away, putting his glove back on as he walked away.

John watched him walk along the side of the plane.

Sherlock paused by Marion who could not meet his gaze. He cupped her face, stooping to her and kissing her. Tears were in her eyes as he kissed her deeply before releasing her with a loud popping sound. He turned away and trotted up into the plane before he could not.

Marion walked to John and Mary as the door on the plane shut.

Mycroft joined them. He wrapped an arm around Marion as she watched the plane move along the taxi way to the runway. She looked palely and the wind stirred her fiery hair as the jet whirred, sending the plane forward and it took off.

John and Mary held hands beside them.

Sherlock sat inside looking out of one of the right-hand windows. He watched his wife look down, the wind shifted obscuring her face even as she reached up to push it back. He could see the wetness on her cheeks and he felt his soul break.

Mycroft's gloved hand squeezed Marion's shoulder lightly. "It is for the best." He whispered. "You know it." He said gently.

She gave a nod. He released her and moved to walk to the car. She moved to follow. Mary reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. Marion looked at her and then looked away as she moved to follow Mycroft.

Sherlock continued to gaze out of the window and the plane flew off into the distance.

ZzZ

"Did you miss me?" On every TV in the nation.

At the same time.

In the conference room of parliament Lady Smallwood stared up from her seat, apparently looking at a TV screen. "How is this possible?"

Sir Edwin was beside her also looking at the TV screen. "We don't know, but it's on every screen in the country…every screen simultaneously."

"Has the Prime Minister been told?" She looked round and up to Sir Edwin. "And Mycroft?"

ZzZ

Mycroft was sitting in the back seat of a stationary car and talking into a phone. "But that's not possible." He looked at his sister-in-law. He opened the door and got out. "That is simply not possible." He looked across to where John and Mary, holding hands and clearly still at the airfield. They looked toward him. He frowned at them.

John released his wife's hand and looked at Mycroft. "What's happened?"

Marion turned on the TV screen in the car and sat back in horror. "Oh my God…"She whispered.

John looked in. "That isn't possible. He is dead."

Marion blinked. "I saw him dead." She blinked. "Molly confirmed…" She looked up at Mycroft in muted horror as he dialed a number into his phone looking upwards.

ZzZ

In the executive jet, Sherlock was still looking out of the window.

"Sir?" A man said.

Sherlock looked round. The man held out a phone toward him.

"It's your brother." The man said.

Sherlock took the phone and held it to his ear. "Mycroft?"

"Hello, little brother. How is the exile going?" Mycroft said cheerfully on the phone.

"I've only been gone four minutes." Sherlock hissed.

Mycroft had again sat in the back of his car again and was smiling pleasantly. He looked at Marion who was pale with shock and blinking. "Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. As it turns out, you're needed."

"Oh, for God's sake. Make up your mind. Who needs me this time?" Sherlock hissed.

In Mycroft's car, the distorted voice could be heard. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"

Mycroft looked to the front of the car where a small TV screen was set into the dashboard. On the screen was a still photograph of Jim Moriarty facing the camera and smiling. To the left of his mouth was the message:

MISS ME?

The jaw of Jim's photograph had been animated so that it moved up and down a little as the voice repeated over and over. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"

In Piccadilly Circus in London, the huge screens above the street were each filled with the same part-animated image of Jim's smiling face with the message beside it, and the voice played over speakers. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"

In the back of the car, as the voice played on, Mycroft spoke a single word into his phone in response to Sherlock's question. "England." Mycroft said in a somewhat exasperated voice.

Outside the car, Mary looked at John. "But he's dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty."

"Absolutely. He blew his own brains out."

"So how can he be back?"

John turned and looked to his right. "Well, if he is ... he'd better wrap up warm." Mary turned to follow his gaze. "There's an East Wind coming."

He and Mary watched as Sherlock's plane came in to land.

Marion sat in the car beside Mycroft and blinked at him.

Her phone buzzed and she lifted it.

Miss me Miriam? XXJMXX

She covered her mouth and threw the phone away from her as she gasped.

Mycroft looked at her, startled. "Marion?"

"He…he's back…" She whispered.