Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Hounds Of Baskerville- Finale

Chapter Thirteen

I woke up by the gentle brushes feathered on my skin. Fluttering my eyes, Sherlock looks down to me. I was laying with my head in his lap. "Hi." I mumble, quietly. "Hello." Sherlock replied not breaking his gaze or actions. "What happened?"

"You fainted. Other than that, it's another case solved." I huff. "I missed it." I furrow my brows like the unhappy child I am. Sherlock's deep baritone voice chuckles, heartedly. "It wasn't my dad was it?" I question, dubiously. "Is that who you saw? I saw Moriarty." I sat up moving to take Sherlock's lap as a more comforting seat than the bed beneath us. With his legs crossed he cradles me with care. "I'm sorry." I mumble in his chest. He shushes me gently, rubbing his hands on my arm and back. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right however, it wasn't the sugar it was the fog acting as fear and stimulus."

"What happened to Dr Frankland?"

"He killed himself." His face flashed solemnly. I rest my head in the crook of his neck. "He'd rather of died than face justice. How very..." I was trying to find the right word. "Human?" Sherlock suggested. "Human." I nod with acknowledgment. Gently stroking Sherlock's face I tilt his head towards me. "You matter too." I whisper, smiling. He rolls his eyes, with humour before skimming his lips with my own. "You matter... The most." If this is our way of saying 'I love you' then I don't want it any other way.

Cross Keys Inn - Morning

Sherlock and I walk out of the Inn, hand in hand. I waved to Billy before making our way to John. "So they didn't have it put down, then the dog." Our hands clasped in one we simultaneously drink our coffees with the other. "Obviously. Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it."

"I see." John smiles. "No you don't." I giggle. "No, I don't. Sentiment?"

"Sentiment!" He agrees. Unclamping my hand I take to sit next to good old Johnny boy. "You alright, Michelle?"

"Never better." I smile, with genuine. "Listen: what happened to me in the lab?" Sherlock looks at him for a moment, then turns around and reaches for a box of sauce sachets. "D'you want some sauce with that?" Sherlock acts oblivious to John's said statement. "I mean, I hadn't been to the Hollow, so how come I heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said."

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere, when you went to the lab, maybe. You saw those pipes – pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve; and they were carrying the gas, so... Um, ketchup, was it, or brown..."

"Hang on: you thought it was in the sugar." Sherlock stares at him while trying to maintain a neutral expression. "You were convinced it was in the sugar."

"He was, wasn't he?" I joined in, clasping my hands together on the table and tilting my head with indication. Sherlock furrows his brows at me before looking away. "Better get going, actually. There's a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want..." Sherlock drawls on, looking to his pocket watch. John turns his head away as he begins to realise the horrible truth. "Oh God. It was you. Both of you. You locked me in that bloody lab."

"I had to. It was an experiment."

"An experiment?!" John grits his teeth. "Can I just say I had nothing to do with this. I told him it was a bad idea." I state, innocently. "Shhh."

"I was terrified, Sherlock. I was scared to death." John spoke, quietly but still furious. "I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore. It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions well, literally. I knew what effect it had had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on an average one." John pauses mid-bite. "You know what I mean. I couldn't try it on Michelle now, could I?" He rhetorically asks. "Wonder why?" John mumbles. I slap John's arm half heartedly. "Watch it." John gets back to eating. "But it wasn't in the sugar."

"No, well, I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas."

"So you got it wrong."

"No." He dismisses, too quickly. "Mm. You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar. You got it wrong." I chuckle into my mug. "A bit. It won't happen again."

"Any long-term effects?"

"None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will. It's only sugar."

"Think I might have taken care of that already." Sherlock snorts laughter, then looks across to a nearby table where Gary is pouring coffee for two other customers. He smiles apologetically across to Sherlock, who puts his mug on the table and stands up. "Where're you going?"

"Won't be a minute. Gotta see a man about a dog. Coming, darling?" He looks to me, with his hand drawn out towards me. I smile. Whilst my heart is pouring. Smiling down at John, he turns and walks away.

Third POV

Jim Moriarty sits silently and calmly with his eyes closed in the middle of a small windowless concrete-lined cell. In an adjoining room, Mycroft walks towards the other side of the one-way mirror which Jim is facing, and narrows his eyes as he looks closely at the other man.

Later, Mycroft has left the cell again. A man in a suit has opened the cell door and has walked inside.
"All right. Let him go." He dismisses. Jim turns and casually strolls out of the cell. Behind him, the man turns and looks around the room. On almost every plain concrete panel of the walls, Jim has somehow carved a single word into the cement. In different sizes and at different angles, the word repeats all around the cell and the word is 'SHERLOCK'. With the dust which was loosened by the carving, Jim has scratched Sherlock's name backwards on the mirror so that whoever is watching him from the other side of the mirror will see the name the right way round.
The man in the suit turns and walks away, closing the cell door behind him.

———————————————————————————
You all ready for the real drama? See ya in the next one ✌️