Chapter 9 Sleeping Beauty

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What happened to John? Who's behind these shenanigans? I hear you ask. Well hark! Read the chapter to pretty much find out Sherlock's guess which might actually be wrong because well, as awesome as he is, he does make mistakes. What did you expect? I'm not going to reveal all my secrets ;)

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Evanna's POV

In a blur, we both rushed to his aid. At first glance we thought he was fitting, but he seemed conscious. The flailing of his limbs wasn't epileptic-like, it actually looked like fear; the sort someone would experience during an awful nightmare.

"John!" shouted Sherlock. "John can you hear me!" The panic and worry were evident on my uncle's face, his best friend was in danger and he felt helpless- a feeling he hated.

Suddenly John's eyes opened and he stared at the doorway, wide-eyed and shaking. "IT'S BACK!" he screamed. "RUN! THE HOUND! RUN!" he bellowed at us.

I looked at where he was pointing. It was an empty doorway.

"Where's my gun!" he scrambled around. "It must be the terrorists again!"

He looked Sherlock in the eye and whispered "I said run" and promptly went limp.

Sherlock automatically felt for a pulse. "He's alive" he confirmed as we both breathed sighs of relief.

"What happened?" I asked. "This hasn't happened before has it?"

"No."

"Any ideas then?"

"Four so far" he replied.

He searched the room, opened and closed the window, sniffed the carpet, felt around the door frame and them returned back to crouching beside the now unconscious John Watson. He picked up his hand in his and then smiled.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused by his change of mood.

"Look at his index finger" he said, putting it before me.

There was a thorn. In his finger.

He pulled a pair of tweezers out of his coat pocket and removed it. Holding it up to the light he said to me. "Guess what they'll find in this if we send it off for test?"

"Ketamine" I nodded. "So he pricked his finger on the rose thorn and then because of the effects of the Ketamine he hallucinated about the hound, the one from Baskerville I suppose. But what was that about the terrorists then?"

Memories of Afghanistan" Sherlock said. "That kind of trauma never leaves you, even if you do still enjoy the adventure"

I stood up and walked towards the vase of roses. The roses that killed my mother.

Sherlock's POV

We put John on the bed to rest and subsequently went to sit in two facing armchairs in the living room.

"You need to leave" I said to her.

She looked at me in shock. "Sorry?!"

"It's too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt"

"Er hello!" she whispered violently, waving a hand in my face. "This is my mother we are talking about. Besides, we solved it"

I sighed loudly in exasperation. "We found the murder weapon, but not the murderer"

"Then who's the murderer -oh wise one" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"The same as it always is. The one who's involved in all the big cases I'm involved in. And I just know he's involved in this one"

Moriarty.

I shuffled around in my seat, directing all of her attention to the words I was about to say.

"There's a man," I started. "My arch nemesis"

Evanna snorted but one look at how serious I was wiped the smile off of her face and caused her to awkwardly clear her throat.

"His name is Jim Moriarty. He calls himself a 'consulting criminal', a role like mine but evil, psychopathic and sadistic. He will kill anyone who is dear to me -he tried to kill John last time I saw him- and he won't stop until he has what he wants"

"What's that?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"Me" I gulped. "Dead probably"

"And this is why I should leave?" said Evanna skeptically. "Because of one man?"

"He's not just one man!" I exclaimed, groaning in frustration. "He not only has a whole bunch of people who do his dirty work but he is crazy. If I'm right, and he did kill you mother, then he knows you exist and he will kill you"

"If you're right, and he did kill my mother," she repeated my words back to me "then there is no way on this Earth that I am running away from him"

I smiled at her. "You're certain?"

"It's justice to my mother -your sister" she said confidently. "I've never felt more at home that when I was solving this case with you Sherlock. This is my destiny"

We burst out laughing simultaneously from the cliche and predictability of what my niece just said. Then a groan from the next room interrupted us.

"That'll be John" she said as she walked out to check on him.

I looked at her, a smile still on my face, as she went out of the room. It took a while for me to realise she was right.

***

Bleurgh...

I'm sorry I just can't get used to writing emotional stuff because it just ends up all cliche and soppy. I dunno, tell me if I did a good job or whatever please

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