The Crimson Queen (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 11 Fanmail

Thanks for all the comments on my previous non-chapter chapter. I'm honestly so astonished with all the feedback (and sometimes fanning omg) that I've been receiving.

So here it is: if you haven't guessed already then by the end of this chapter I'm sure it'll be obvious who the killer is. Even so, if you have any questions just ask in the comments below and I may or may not answer them depending on whether I want to reveal that info or not ;)

Enjoy!

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Evanna's POV

It was so close I felt like I could just reach out and touch it. I had that feeling inside of me -the feeling that tells you "Wait. Just wait a little while longer." And I knew it talked sense. Finding the murderer would take patience but I could almost smell victory. And if it was 'Moriarty' then I knew exactly how to treat that bastard.

"Evanna?" said John warily, interrupting my train of thought.

"What time is it?" I asked, ignoring the fact that he mentioned my name.

"Erm, twenty past eight" he answered whilst glancing at his watch.

"In the morning?"

"No it's pitch black... Evanna? Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine" I replied a little too quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I was getting a bit annoyed at him when I realised my nails had been digging into my palms because my fists were so tightly clenched.

"Oh" I realised, wrenching them apart and rubbing my sore hands. "Where's Sherlock?"

"He- he went out a few hours ago" said John, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. "You're so much like him, you know"

Not the first time I had heard that. It was only then when I realised the flat seemed so empty without him; even if he was sitting in silence with his fingers steepled or absent-mindedly plucking the strings of his violin, the feeling of his presence would still resonate.

"What would you do without him?" I asked.

"Who? Sherlock?" he questioned. When I nodded he sighed deeply, his eyes filling with memories from his past. "When I came back from Afghanistan I had no one. By pure coincidence I was introduced to Sherlock who immediately asked whether I wanted to move in here with him. I don't know what possessed me to agree -but I did. And... and then all this happened" he said, gesturing to nowhere in particular. "He fixed me. Without him I would break again"

John looked at the fireplace, blinking way too much. Then, without another word, he suddenly stood up, walked into the kitchen and started making coffee.

Sherlock's POV

"Nothing." I muttered, walking into the living room.

"Nothing!" I said as I shrugged off my coat.

"NOTHING!" I growled, slumping onto the sofa next to Evanna, wrenching my hands in fury.

"What is it?" asked John, walking in and placing a tray with 3 coffee mugs on the table. He then opened his laptop.

I waved a dismissive hand at him. I couldn't be bothered to explain.

Evanna picked up a mug and drank deeply. I was certain she hadn't even paused for breath before she put the empty mug back down on the table.

"I'll get some more" she whispered, moving towards the kitchen.

The dark circles under her eyes. The pale complexion. The caffeine dependancy. She wasn't well.

I rubbed my sore temple with the pads of my forefingers and breathed out. I started tapping and drumming continuously on the table. My hands were shaking.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" screamed Evanna, storming in from the kitchen with a full mug. Well I say full, but most of it had spilt onto the carpet as a consequence of her sudden outburst.

John looked up from his laptop -presumably checking his stupid blog.

I heard the front door open and shut from downstairs.

"Well the solution has arrived" I said, giving her one of my famous smirks as the door opened.

"You've just been out Sherlock," Mrs Hudson said as she walked in with a pharmacy bag. "I don't know why you couldn't get them yourself. I'm not your housekeeper"

"I'm sorry Mrs Hudson" I apologised. "But I didn't have time. Thank you"

She handed me the bag, rolling her eyes, and I ripped open it's contents.

"Nicotine patches" realised John as I stuck 3 on each arm. "Of course"

I breathed a sigh of relief as the drug surged through my system, resolving my headache instantaneously.

"By the way Sherlock, these arrived for you" said Mrs Hudson, walking into the hallway and returning with something in her hands. "I think they're from a fan"

I looked up.

It was a bunch of roses.

"NO MRS HUDSON DON'T TOUCH THOSE!" I bellowed.

She jumped and dropped the flowers straightaway, as though I had just told her they were a bomb.

A loud smash and mumblings of "Shit. Not again" told me John had broken yet another mug.

I stepped slowly towards the roses that lay on the floor, in a nicely arranged bouquet accompanied by ribbon. But nonetheless they were Crimson Queens alright.

And there was a note.

I crouched down and Evanna did the same by my side. She carefully detached the note and read the cursive writing.

Dearest Sherlock

You're stuck aren't you? Oh bless...

Let's give the gentleman a hand shall we?

Warehouse 5B
Crown Close
Hackney

Love
Your biggest fan

We grabbed our things and sprinted out the door.