Sherlock - The Game Is On!

His Last Vow- Twelve

Chapter Twelve

John slams open the door of the living room at 221B, sighing quietly. Mary follows him more slowly up the stairs, with Sherlock and I behind her. John takes off his jacket and drops it onto the dining table. Mar-Mar stood in the kitchen but now hurries towards him worriedly. "John. Mary!" Mary gives her a small smile and walks towards the fireplace while John stands by the dining table with his hands on his hips. Sherlock hobbles to the doorway and stops there, bracing himself with one hand on the edge of the open door. I hook my arm around his waist and gently rest my head on his shoulder. "Oh, Sherlock! Oh, good gracious, you look terrible."

"Get me some morphine from your kitchen. I've run out."

"I don't have any morphine!"

"Then what exactly is the point of you?"

"Sherlock! Don't take it out on Mar-Mar!" I scold. "What is going on?"

"Bloody good question." John stated coldly. "The Watsons are about to have a domestic, and fairly quickly, I hope, because we've got work to do."

"Oh, I have a better question." He paces towards Mary, looking angrily into her face. "Is everyone I've ever met a psychopath?"

"Yes." Mary gives a tiny nod of agreement, pursing her lips. "Good that we've settled that. Anyway, we..."

"SHUT UP!" John turns to Sherlock and I. Mar-Mar jumps at the loudness of his cry and puts one hand to her mouth. "John!" I scold, noticing tears well up in my aunts eyes. John huffs out a shallow breath. "And stay shut up, because this is not funny. Not this time."

"We didn't say it was funny." I answer. "You." John points to Mary. When he speaks, his voice and his face are full of barely controlled anger and he frequently breathes heavily throughout his next words: "What have I ever done... Hmm? My whole life... To deserve you?"

"Everything." Sherlock begins to lean against me for support. "Sherlock, I've told you... Shut up." John begins stalking towards us. I grip onto Sherlock a little tighter. "Oh, I mean it, seriously. Everything, everything you've ever done is what you did."

"Sherlock, one more word and you will not need morphine."

"You were a doctor who went to war. You're a man who couldn't stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den. Your best friend is a sociopath who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high. That's me, by the way." He raises his hand and waves. "Hello. Even the landlady used to run a drug cartel."

"It was my husband's cartel. I was just typing." Mar-Mar corrected. "And exotic dancing."

"Sherlock Holmes, if you've been YouTubing..."

"Her niece also shares the same trait of pole dancing when she thinks no one is watching and over a period of months she took down the biggest terrorist group that was a threat against humanity. She also, endured torture within that time as well as many other times, trying to save those from dishonourable deaths..." Sherlock pauses for a moment, thoughtfully. "That's Michelle by the way, the one you see as a better sibling." I smile lightly. "John, you are addicted to a certain lifestyle. You're abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people... So is it truly such a surprise that the woman you've fallen in love with conforms to that pattern?" Sherlock trailed of quietly.

John grimaces briefly and then, with his eyes still fixed on Sherlock, he points towards his wife at the other side of the room. "But she wasn't supposed to be like that." I begin to see John, in this moment, as a small child. "Why is she like that?" Sherlock looks away, I look directly into John's eyes. "Because you chose her." I spoke in a soft tone. John states back to me, with a face that's unreadable. "Why is everything... Always... MY FAULT?!" Furiously kicking a small table, Mar-Mar jumps and flails.