Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 104
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." ~Henry S. Haskins, Meditations in Wall Street
Present Day
Fifteen minutes into the drive and Sherlock was nodding. A quick trip to the chemist (pharmacy) and Sherlock was frowning and reluctantly taking two pills. Sherlock eyes were slits. Sherlock never admitted to being tired, but to everyone in the car, it was obvious.
A black car trailed close behind the police car with three of Mycroft's agents in it. The occupants of the black car were trying to make their presence known instead of blending in. This was a warning to anyone who might be tempted to make a second try or consider the present a time of weakness.
John could not seem to stop looking to the back seat. It was almost as if he needed constant reassurance that Sherlock was still there.
Lestrade would also frequently glance in the rearview mirror at Sherlock.
Mycroft almost made a mental comment about the overemotional state of the common masses until he realized with some private embarrassment that he was doing the same thing.
One of Mycroft's top men call in a report that Sherlock Holmes should be watched closely for the next forty–eight hours, while several terrorist cells worldwide and in London were taken out completely.
Mycroft quietly ended the call and hung up. He did not realize that he had a scowl on his face.
Sherlock's eyes were still narrowed into slits, but now his head would nod sharply as suddenly his chin dropped to his chest. The action would abruptly wake him up temporarily.
Within ten minutes, the process would repeat.
Mycroft shook his head. It reminded him of when Sherlock was a child. He would do the same thing. He has always fought against sleep. Now that he considered it, Mycroft admitted to himself that Sherlock fought against many things. It was probably the reason that he was alive and sitting next to him in the back seat of a car instead of… Mycroft did not want to think of the instead of.
John from the front seat had turned around and noticed curiously then smiled.
"Sherlock, why don't you lay back?" John asked
"Hum," Sherlock asked sleepily.
"I said; why don't you lay back? I'll wake you when we're home."
Sherlock's lips sticking out in a pout was his only answer.
John sighed at the sight of Sherlock locked in stubborn mode. John doubted that anything that Sherlock would do tonight would annoy him, but he had to admit the possibility.
This was Sherlock.
He could imagine a young Sherlock doing the same thing and fighting such a simple thing like sleep.
John knew Sherlock well; when he was overly tired or felt threatened, his stubbornness came out more. Sherlock refused to lie back against the car seat because he was fighting sleep all the way.
As John gave up and turned around, he thought about one fact. If nothing else, Sherlock was both brilliant and a fighter.
John would have been amused if he knew that Mycroft was thinking similar thoughts.