Sherlock's eyes widened as he slowly turned to face her.
"Uh oh... What have you done, Sherlock?" He heard mockingly behind him.
He closed his eyes, a hand pressing down on his head as he tried to think.
Everything was swirling in his mind and was processing everything all too quickly.
No. No.
"Sherlock?" Molly breathed out, nervously.
"Sherlock?" He heard his name being called again but from behind him.
He swatted angrily behind him. "Shut up!"
Molly jumped, almost knocking herself off the dining table seat.
"Excuse me?" She whispered.
"Yes, excuse her?"
Sherlock tilted his head to the side to glance warily at his dead friend. Mary Watson.
Now was not the time for her to annoy him.
Mary giggled. "You're no fun. I'll go and mess with John for now. I'll be back."
Sherlock was thankful for the sudden silence in his mind but that didn't stop for long after her presence had left.
"Sherlock?" Molly asked, her eyes becoming watery.
"Leave," Sherlock told her hoarsely. "And shut the door behind you."
Molly wordlessly stood up, her bag tightening in her hand as she left, walking down the stairs and out of 221B Baker Street.
Sherlock rubbed at his face, locking himself in his room as he searched for a usable towel.
"So many thoughts... So many processing to be done..." He muttered, turning on the shower. "So many endless whispering..."
...
John's eyes widened as the gun was still aimed at him.
Why did he have to be in this position? What did he have to do with this?
"I'm sorry, Eustace or whatever." John started.
Eurus narrowed her eyes, her finger easily gently pressing down on the trigger even more.
"I don't quite see how I fit into all of this? Sherlock's your supposed brother so why do you want to kill me?"
She laughed. John frowned even more as Mary's presence turned up, her eyes wide in wonder and amazement.
"So, she's the secret sibling, hmm?" Mary wondered aloud. "Boy is she ugly. Then again, Mycroft's no looker either. We really ought to see their parents again someday. Catch up, if they will."
John rolled his eyes. "Look, why don't I get Mycroft or Sherlock here, hmm?"
Eurus returned with her own roll of eyes. "That's too easy. Plus, I have easy access to them any-"
A phone rang. She raised an eyebrow and picked it up, her eyes and hand never leaving John's position.
"Hello?"
John struggled to hear what the person on the other side was saying but luckily Mary helped him.
"That's good. Yes, apprehend her."
"A woman. Just left 221B Baker Street. They want to kidnap her." Mary said.
John's eyes widened. Surely they weren't thinking of kidnapping a gentle woman like Mrs Hudson?
Eurus cancelled the call. "How lovely. Seems as if you will be accompanied in your death."
"Again, what have I done exactly? I do not want to be in the middle of any sibling rivalry or tantrums!" John roared. "I have a daughter. A daughter who relies on me and you want to kill me for nothing?"
His threat laughed, shaking her head. "You don't understand your relevance. Nor your necessity..."
"What. Do. You. Mean?" John growled.
Mary sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sweetie, she means that you're relevant and necessary to our Sherlock. Anyone who has a certain amount of relationship with our resident weirdo is immediately a threat and on her personal vendetta hitlist."
John's eyes sparkled in realisation. Thank you, Mary.
"You want to kill me because I'm friends with Sherlock, hmm?"
Eurus wanted to clap her hands. "Finally. You really are a slow one, aren't you?"
Mary shrugged, tilting her head once. "He gets there eventually..."
"That's irrelevant here, right? So, go on then. Do your worst." John sighed.
...
Mycroft growled in frustration, the person on the end of his call wincing.
"How did they take her without our eyes and ears knowing?!" He roared.
The person on the phone replied with many apologies, stating that they hadn't known how either.
Mycroft rubbed his head, closing his eyes.
He had missed his 2 PM appointment. How?
"Look, just find that vehicle." He muttered, cancelling the call as he and his team worked on the surveillance systems. Mycroft spotted his assistant rush to him. "You. Get Sherlock on the phone."
She nodded and dialled his brother's number on the private phone before handing the phone to her employer.
"Well, go and do something useful?" Mycroft snapped, making her jump and rush away as he put the phone on his ear.
"What, Mycroft?"
Mycroft scoffed. "Where are you?"
"Home. But of course, brother mine, you knew that."
The older of the two looked at the screen to see his brother waving at him from the window condescendingly.
"We have a situation."
Sherlock frowned, moving closer to the window to face the camera. "What situation, Mycroft?"
"Two of your associates. They've been taken."
Sherlock held a subtle gasp. He looked back at the camera and cancelled the call.
...
Sherlock turned around, spotting something out of place.
The letter.
She was real.
He picked the letter up, examining it as he turned off all the lights and drew the blinds. He could easily see his brother in his mind, wondering what the hell he was up to but sod him for now.
Sherlock found his trusted UV light and turned it on, placing the letter in front of him that lay in the line of light vision.
'MISS ME?' was written clear as day.
His breath hitched in his throat as he dropped the letter and realised why his mind was going on such a necessary overdrive.
The drugs were now wearing off but they still affected his line of thinking and actions.
There was too damn much to think about.
John. Mary. Rosie. Mrs Hudson. Molly. The baby...
Sherlock's head snapped towards the closed living room door and he yanked it open, rushing down the stairs to put his coat on and open his front door.
"Sherlock?"
"John." Sherlock simply said, rushing out of the flat.
From above, Mycroft watched as his dear brother left his home in such a hurry. So, now he acts?, he thought.
Sherlock halted to find someone holding a door open to a car. This is not Mycroft's...
And Mycroft realised this as well. Turning to a member on his team, he instructed them to follow that car.
"Get in, Mr Holmes."
Sherlock complied.
So, Moriarty... What have you got in store for me for our final opera?, Sherlock smirked as he thoughtfully tapped a finger on his chin.
He already knew where he was going. He already knew who he would meet there and how many people were going to be there. Why did he feel so excited but have a sinking feeling at the bottom of his stomach?
Mary appeared beside him, eyes full of worry. "Well Sherlock, let's go save my husband again."
Sherlock turned to face her, wishing he could offer some sort of comfort but remembered that she was a figment of his and John's minds.
"Let's go and save me." He corrected instead.