Guys, OMG, OMG 80 Chapters! 80! I can't belive it. If I write this right, there should be maybe 3 chapters left? Depends on the word length of the next chapter. Whether or not a split it up. One of them will be an epilogue.
OMG, So excited! Please enjoy this chapter.
ArmyDoctor has logged on.
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ArmyDoctor: Hello?
NordicExplorer: Hey, how was the wedding the other night?
ArmyDoctor: Great! Really! Small but wonderful. I hope Greg has a happy life together with her.
NordicExplorer: Indeed. Uh, may I ask when is a good day to come over? All I have to do is book a ticket. That is if you still want me..
ArmyDoctor: Of course I want you to come stay with us! Mary has the guest room all done up for you. We can't wait! Is in a few days good for you?
NordicExplorer: Yes, yes it's fine, it's great. Wonderful. Well I better book my ticket then. And make sure I have not forgotten anything. Really, thank you John Watson.
ArmyDoctor: Not a problem mate. Looking forward to see you.
NordicExplorer: You too...definitely.
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Sherlock was in a brilliant mood, if he wasn't worried about breaking his cover, he might even have begun to whistle. His hair was still short but much curlier and back to it's normal colour, he knew his appearance may be slightly different but hopefully in time that would change. He wondered what John's reaction would be. This was something he'd often thought about.
He was certain there would be pain. John would most likely punch him. That he had no doubt. But what he might say and do after was another story entirely. Would he say he hated him? Would he still be angry or in shock? Would he yell? Would he cry? What if he didn't want him there? What if the minute he'd overcome the shock of seeing his best friend coming back to life, he kicked him out of his home? That thought worried Sherlock for the rest of the night.
The idea that John might not forgive him or simply slam the door in his face was something he could not deal with. Not in his current state. The thought that John might allow him to come in, but not be able to deal with his changed personality also worried him. Sure Sherlock would probably be exuberant and ecstatic to see John, but he knew he would fall back into his current pattern of locking himself away.
Before his Fall, he'd go for days without talking, that was different now. He didn't talk for entirely different reasons. He was very quiet, almost never raised his voice, was apologetic and worried that he might say something that angered others. He rarely smiled or laughed and he still had the tendency to isolate himself even in a room filled with people. Sherlock no longer teased or insulted anyone. It was if Jim had ripped out everything that made him Sherlock and left him with nothing. He'd stripped away all the protective layers and tormented the little boy inside until he broke.
But John, John could fix him. He had to fix him. He wanted to go back to the way things were, but at the back of his head was that little voice torturing him, what if it can't? What if it's permanent? What would he do if it was? What would John do? Or Lestrade, Mrs Hudson? He shook his head. He should concentrate on what he should say to John. Hey I'm alive was not appropriate. He considered asking Irene but that would alert Mycroft, not that he didn't know what Sherlock was planning, he simply didn't condone it. But Sherlock didn't care anymore. Even if he had to sneak out of this house, actually quite an easy feat, he was going to see John and no one could stop him.
Except one.
The message came the day before he was due to leave. It was in a plain black envelope, specifically sent on a day and time when Mycroft was not at home but at the Diogenes Club. Sherlock knew immediately who it was from. Who else would sent him a black, elegant envelope? Dark and elegant, wasn't that Jim all over? The letter inside was bordered in the same black. The message confirmed his fears and what he had already assumed.
Dear Lockie,
It's been awhile since I wrote a letter to you, as apposed to a text. A letter is more personal, you know? And we know each other very well now don't we? I don't know if you've figured out where we will meet, I haven't sent clues, I was thinking about it but, I thought, I like surprises, surprises are fun! And what better surprise then the place where you'll meet your arch-enemy?
So I'm not going to tell you, you'll figure it out fairly soon. Especially since I included some tickets for you along with this letter. Aeroplane ticket, train ticket, I'm just that generous. Look honey, I knew you wanted to see John again, but it would only break his little heart. I'd much rather break yours.
Now I know you think that perhaps you can just ignore this but did you happen to hear about that car explosion on Baker Street this morning? That was my doing. Just a little warning and proof that I still have connections here. Fail to show up and the next car bomb is right outside John's flat.
Don't worry though, I keep my promises, you come, I will not harm them. And I'll even tell them everything that's happened since you've been gone. It will be nice to see the look on their faces when they realise that you've been alive all this time but no longer. And poor brother Mycroft. He'll be crushed won't he? Wonderful, always wanted to break the Iceman.
Looking forward to seeing you soon. The plane leaves early tomorrow morning. Don't be late or John will be.
Ta-ta!
Jim. xxx
Sherlock felt his knees meet the floor, his hands following soon after as the paper fluttered to the ground. He was panting, sweat pouring down his face, mingling with tears. He tried to hold them back but they continued of their own accord, slipping down his face and pitter pattering onto the carpet. Biting his lip he tried to control his breathing. He had to calm down. He had to be rational and logical about this.
He knew, even before viewing the tickets, he knew where they'd end up. It was so obvious, where else? Sherlock had dictated where they would meet everything, like in chess. It was only understandable why Jim would want to choose this time. Sherlock would have to studied every angle he could get on this place. He had the rest of the day and night to formulate a proper plan of survival. He did not want to die, not now, not after everything that had happened. He would not let Jim win. He was not the chess master, he did not dictate Sherlock's every move across the board. Sherlock had to believe he could win, it was the only way he could live. If he allowed the thought of loosing into his mind, it would linger and fester and he would fail.
He sat up, wiping his eyes and dripping nose, straightened his clothes and pulled himself upright. He'll need to apologise to John somehow. Maybe one day he'd understand the sacrifices Sherlock had gladly taken on his behalf and not judge him too harshly. After all everything he'd done, was to keep him safe. Even at the cost of his mind and body.
Sherlock didn't sleep that night. Every problem, every solution, every mistake and answer swept through his head. There was a way to live, surely. There had to be a way to survive. He also toyed with the idea of telling John over the computer or text but it wouldn't be right. It would be cruel and he would most likely not believe him. Still, he couldn't leave him hanging, waiting for a man who may never appear...no he will appear, at some point.
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ArmyDoctor: Hey mate, what's up? Shouldn't you be on the plane right now?
NordicExplorer: Something went wrong with my passport. Probably just a mistake. I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it on time. I'll let you know as soon as things change.
ArmyDoctor: That's a bummer. I wish I could help.
NordicExplorer: It's alright John, I am sure things will work out soon. God knows I could do with a little luck right now.
ArmyDoctor: Aw cheer up mate. Things will work out, I am sure!
NordicExplorer: Thank you. I better go, battery running out. Goodbye my friend, see you soon I hope.
ArmyDoctor: See ya soon Normund!
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Goodbye John.