It would have been better if they had been a smaller group, but Mike refused to leave his brother and Jim didn't want to let his friends walk into danger. And Greg, while declaring that he could imagine better places than Scotland Yard if they wanted to be safe, was obviously going to accompany them disregarding his dislike for the police force.
John and Sherlock quickly talked about their route.
Bill pulled John in a corner.
"Is everything alright?" the doctor asked immediately.
Bill nodded, quickly dismissing any doubts John had had about his arm. "This plan..." he trailed off.
He didn't have to elaborate. John knew. To convince the consulting criminal that they had no clue where they were going, they would not only have to send police cars, but they would need to be seen in them.
At least they would be relatively safe with police men surrounding them – Mrs. Hudson certainly didn't want to alert anyone who had the potential of becoming tiresome to her existence – but they would have to split up if they went through with it.
Bill was concerned that his friend and Sherlock might go off on their own, and John could see why.
They had a better chance at tracking down Trevelyan and distracting Mrs. Hudson if they did so. But the two would want someone looking for Trevelyan they could trust – someone like Bill and John. They might insist on going with the police, at least for the moment, while one of them went to Garrideb.
They wouldn't allow it. One look between them was enough to confirm this.
Mrs. Hudson would of course suspect something if none of them were in the police cars; but she would be surprised that any were sent to scientists and other hiding places to begin with. As John had pointed out, he didn't like asking for help.
She would have to track every car. Maybe she would be busy for a few hours. That was their chance. It wasn't the best, but it was the best they had.
Sherlock called out and they moved, Jim commenting "Time to be off".
"Wait" John said. Sherlock recognized the tone in his voice and turned around.
"John – "
"The plan" the doctor said, "So we are going to distract her with the help of the police."
"Yes."
"And where are you going to be in the meantime?"
After they had met, before Moriarty, Sherlock would have lied or not looked so guilty; but now, he glanced at John's counterpart and sighed.
"You are not going to play bait" he stated. Bill's glare at John told him the same.
Eventually, after a discussion of several minutes, the consulting detectives gave in.
"You are aware" John began "that she will soon notice something is amiss –"
"We are not separating" Bill replied defiantly "and that is final".
He wasn't looking at his flatmate; instead, his gaze was fixed on the doctor, and John wondered if he remembered what he had told him, about the three years without Sherlock. If he wanted to prevent this at all costs.
Sherlock had stopped arguing before John's counterpart, maybe because he was thinking the same, and simply said, "We will have to be quick."
Jim, Mike and Greg hadn't said a word during their discussion; they seemed to feel that they had no place in it. Now, they reminded them that they had been about to leave, and they did so.
They led them through streets John hadn't know existed, small alleys and dark corners, and the doctor found that for all the running around he did with Sherlock he would still be able to get lost in London.
"God knows how they do it" Bill told him. "Once I had to find John after he had been kidnapped, and he didn't tell me the address, only how I could get there."
John could tell a similar story – once Mycroft had had him and Sherlock picked up in a limousine with darkened windows, so that they wouldn't see where they were going, but when they had arrived Sherlock had simply got out of the car and told his brother the address – and he had just finished when a look from both their friends made it clear that they should stay silent. This produced a pout from Jim, who had happily been listening to their conversation.
They arrived at Scotland Yard just as Bill's breathing as becoming a laboured. It didn't surprise John. He had been shot, and he had lost blood. He should be resting instead of running around. But the chance of him leaving John to do this alone was about as big as the chance of John letting Sherlock walk away.
No one paid them much attention on their way. John knew, of course, that they couldn't walk into the Yard, at least not all of them; and it was quickly decided, at a corner near the entrance, that Sherlock and John would go in, so that no one would ask questions about Bill's arm.
"If everything goes to plan" John said, "we'll join you shortly. We will then go to Garrideb."
"And if it doesn't?"
It was Mike who asked, his voice showing how nervous he felt.
"By now, the police will have been to Baker Street" Sherlock answered. "They are probably already looking for us. They might keep us in for questioning".
He paused before continuing, "in this case, you have to find Garrideb without us".
He looked at John. "Find Trevelyan. If necessary – "
He interrupted him. He knew what Sherlock was about to say, and he didn't want to hear it.
"No".
"You don't know what I wanted to say."
"Yes I did. And I won't capture Trevelyan and return without you. No."
"If I am – "
"You won't be held here. They can only treat you as a victim. They won't keep you her against your will".
He spoke to convince himself as well as Sherlock. He didn't know how well the relationship between his counterpart and the police force was – if it was anything like it had been when he had met Sherlock, it wasn't easy, and many would gladly welcome an opportunity to put them in a cell for a few hours. Only these few hours could decide everything.
Sherlock couldn't really be suggesting that he found Trevelyan and returned on his own. He had to know he would never do that.
The small smile on his friend's face – somewhat resigned and yet happy – proved that John's suspicion was correct. He had told him to go because he felt it was the right thing to do, not because he wanted it or because he thought he would do it.
Sherlock and John left soon afterwards, with the others hiding in the shadows.
John went straight to Gregson's office, like he had when they had been looking for the files, and the DI greeted him with a weary expression.
"I hear you've been here. Did you find what you were looking for? And while we're at it, would you mind explaining why someone tried to have you shot by several snipers?"
"Yes" John said simply. "We don't have the time. As a matter of fact, Inspector, most of London is controlled by a criminal".
Gregson had been taking a sip of his coffee and started coughing.
"What?"
"The third office on the right" John said to Sherlock, and he slipped out while the other man began to explain. He knew he would find Dimmock behind the door, and the faster they could set things in motion, the better.
He knocked and entered in one fluid motion.
The young DI looked up, surprised. Sherlock quickly deduced that nothing had altered in his life and felt strangely happy about the fact.
"You're Bill Holmes, aren't you?"
He nodded, thinking that he would be glad to return to where people didn't know his first name.
He quickly explained the situation.
Dimmock stared at him after he had stopped talking. Sherlock was beginning to feel impatient. If the police didn't want to help them, they would have to find Trevelyan before Mrs. Hudson could move to get the machine or kill him and risk that they would be chased.
"So – London is run by a – "
"Consulting criminal" Sherlock finished. "And we need to find someone and distract said consulting criminal – "
"And you want us to drive around and do it" Dimmock said. He brought his hand up to rub his face in a gesture that was oddly reminiscent of Greg.
"Give me one reason I should believe you – " he stopped, obviously choosing not to say something.
Sherlock didn't know this universe's Dimmock. Even though it seemed like nothing had changed, everything could be different. But he had to try. He didn't have the time to make him believe him if he decided against it.
Therefore he said, "You were about to call me an arrogant sod."
And Dimmock simply stared.
Finally he said, "I thought you were supposed to be the normal one".
""Normal" is simply a concept created by people who believe themselves to be".
Maybe it was because he was using the good sense that Sherlock had always thought he possessed, but Dimmock stood up.
"If you are right, I'm doing something to save the city. If not, I only waste an afternoon. Where should I send the car?"
Sherlock couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face.
The game was on.
Author's note: After this there's only two more chapters. Please review, it makes me happy.