Vague Shadows

We hereby find the accused not guilty of all crimes.

The unbelievable words continued to echo in my mind as John and I left the stands of the courtroom. John was livid, and visibly so. His face was darkening, and his left hand began to clench and unclench subconsciously. I walked beside him, too stunned to say or do anything except obediently follow the other onlookers down the stairs.

The second we left the courtroom, John pulled out his phone and hit Sherlock’s number.

“Not guilty. Moriarty mounted no defense, and they still let him walk free,” he snarled; I didn’t need to have John put the phone on speaker to know that Sherlock wasn’t replying. John took a breath, attempting to calm himself down. “Sherlock, are you listening? He’s out there. He’ll be coming for you-“

John pulled the phone away from his face and glowered at the screen.

“He hung up on me,” he growled, and I grabbed his arm. John’s eyes softened a bit when they met mine.

“Will he really go after him?” I pressed, and John let out a heavy sigh.

“I want to say no, but I know he will.”

“Let’s get home then,” I urged, wrapping my thin cardigan a little tighter around me as I picked up my pace.

“I’ve got to get money out for the rent,” John told me apologetically. “It’s already past-due and Mrs. Hudson needs the money.”

“Right, then. You get the rent money, and I’ll go meet up with Sherlock. One of us needs to be with him,” I said decisively. John gave a curt nod and peeled off down the street. It was only after I bid him goodbye did I realize I didn’t have any money for a cab.

Luckily the walk wasn’t grueling; it was only about half an hour with my urgent speed, and before long I was pushing the door open to the flat and racing upstairs. I half expected to find Moriarty waiting in our living room, so when I saw Lestrade and Donovan instead, I stopped short as my mind tried to adjust.

“What-“ I began, and was immediately cut off as Sherlock skirted past me.

“There’s been a kidnapping,” he informed me, as if his biggest enemy hadn’t just been set loose on the streets of London. “Laicee, take a look at these pictures and tell me what you see.”

I glanced at Lestrade to confirm my permission to work on the case; when he gave a quick nod, I took the photos and hopped up onto the arm of John’s chair. The four of us worked vigorously; an hour must have passed, and we didn’t notice. We only broke away from the case when quick footsteps came trotting up the stairs.

“What’s all this?” John asked, glancing around in the same puzzlement I’d had.

“Kidnapping,” Sherlock said absently. As Donovan and Lestrade began to explain, Sherlock’s head snapped up.

“Laicee, you said something about the windows,” he said, holding out his hand for the pictures I’d been searching through. I handed him the one I’d pointed out and nodded.

“Yeah, if you take a look here,” I said, trailing off as Sherlock retreated into his mind. We sat in silence, the rest of us watching him as he worked. I saw the snap of an idea the moment before Sherlock’s eyes lifted.

“I need to examine the rooms,” he informed Lestrade, who grabbed the keys to his vehicle and got to his feet.

“Right, let’s go-“

“Laicee isn’t coming,” Donovan said immediately, her eyes snapping to me. I straightened myself.

“Oh really?” I challeneged, but Donovan wasn’t the one who answered my question.

“Really,” Lestrade told me. “This is an international case, and while I can give you coverage on our end, I can’t grant coverage on the US end.”

My face must have visibly fallen, because immediately John piped up,

“Head back to Scotland Yard, yeah? See what you can find on the kids’ family, and we’ll meet back there.”

Though it wasn’t what I wanted, I knew right now wasn’t the time to pout. I gave an agreeing nod and accepted the files Donovan handed me.

“Call us if you need anything,” John said, handing me money for a cab. I nodded as Sherlock gave my shoulder a fleeting squeeze.

“Same to you,” I told him, and then I was left alone in the flat, staring out the window as my group headed off to solve the case.

***

“Another game, come on!” I begged Anderson, who narrowed his eyes at me and shoved the chess board away.

“I’m not playing with you anymore!” he snapped, getting to his feet. We’d played seven games of chess, and I’d devastated him in every one. I stood as well, only to follow him out of his office. I disliked Anderson heavily, but when I’d been denied access to the case files by the Chief Superintendent, Anderson had been put in charge of me.

It really hadn’t been all bad; it turns out Anderson had gotten left behind as well, and we both grudgingly came together to stave off boredom until the others returned. It wasn’t a friendship, not even close, but we were significantly less bored.

“I really didn’t cheat, that’s just how you have to play when your only other chess opponent is Sherlock Holmes,” I explained as we paused at the coffee machine. He poured a cup and gave me a look as I got myself one as well.

“In that case, I feel sorry for you,” he told me, and I chuckled. I’d just taken a sip of coffee when the elevator binged, and the doors opened. There was an explosion of activity; Sherlock, John, and Lestrade led the way, with Donovan and an EMT following. The EMT held a sick little girl in his arms; though she looked ill, she was still conscious and watching the activity around us.

“Take her into the briefing room,” Lestrade ordered, and Donovan peeled off to the left with the EMT. Anderson and I raced towards the others, ready to help.

“They were poisoned,” John told us. “Lead poisoning. The little girl is doing alright now, but her brother has been hospitalized.”

“Donovan and I will start the questioning,” Lestrade told us, throwing his coat onto a chair as he headed off after the others. Anderson scurried behind, wanting to be of use.

Sherlock turned away and began to pace, muttering to himself as he went. John and I stood off to the side, watching him and chatting softly.

“Was it Moriarty?”

“There was no evidence of it, but I know that’s Sherlock’s guess,” John murmured. “He told me on the way back that Moriarty was going to strike. I don’t know how this could be it, but he thinks it is.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off as Lestrade came out.

“You can go in now, if you’d like,” he told Sherlock, who turned and immediately went towards the door. Lestrade held up his hand. “But take it easy. She’s very scared, and we don’t need any repeats of earlier.”

“Earlier?” I asked John warily. He sighed quietly.

“I’ll explain later.”

Sherlock gave an understanding nod and folded down his coat collar, and then stepped inside. The moment he did, the little girl exploded into terrified screams. John and I watched the scene in confusion as Sherlock was all but yanked from the room.

Lestrade turned to give him a wary and unsure glance as Donovan came out. I saw her shut the door and stare at Sherlock her eyes narrowed. Immediately, my mind snapped the pieces together.

She thought the little girl recognized Sherlock.

She thought that Sherlock had taken her.

I saw the accusation in her face, and my stomach tightened. She took a step towards Lestrade, her mouth opening to say something, and I moved forward. Lestrade and John were talking quietly, and Sherlock was watching out the window. Everyone was occupied on something else beside me.

Donovan turned to me and gave me a look as I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“I know what you think,” I said quietly, my face hardening in anger. “I know you think he’s done something. Don’t deny it, Donovan. I see it in your face. The way you’re looking at him. But you need to know that he hasn’t done this, and you need to know that if you do anything against him, anything to attack him-“

“I need to do what my job has trained me to do,” she shot back, and the look on my face must have been more than a little intimidating. She pressed her lips together, and I continued; my voice dropped do a deadly volume, and I let all of my anger flow through my words.

“If you hurt him Sally Donovan, I can promise you that you will regret the day you went after him.”

***
“You okay?” John asked as Sherlock came out of the building. I got to my feet and dusted my jeans off; John and I had left nearly twenty minutes ago on the Chief Superintendents request, but of course we wouldn’t leave Sherlock to get home alone.

“Sherlock?” I pressed when we got no answer. I saw his eyes dart to the side to study me as a cab pulled up to the curb.

“Thinking,” he said dismissively. “This is my cab. You two get the next.”

“What? Why?” John demanded. Sherlock pulled the door open and got inside.

“You might talk.”

The door slammed shut, and the cab took off. John and I were left to stand on the curb and stare after him. As John hailed another cab, the door behind us opened.

“Laicee, a quick word?” Lestrade asked, his voice tight. John paused at the cab, but I waved him on.

“Go make sure he’s okay,” I told him; John handed me some money and gave me a look.

“Please take a cab. No walking alone at night.”

“I’ll make sure she takes one,” Lestrade promised; John nodded and shut the door, and I turned to Lestrade.

“I’m giving you fair warning,” he breathed. “The Chief isn’t happy with your open attitude to Donovan and Anderson. Keep it to a minimum unless you want to get on his bad side.”

“You know I usually do in front of him,” I hissed. “But you saw the way Donovan looked at Sherlock.”

When Lestrade didn’t immediately agree, I tensed.

“Don’t tell me you actually think she’s onto something-“

“Of course not,” Lestrade snapped, and I pressed my lips together in an angry line. “But if that’s what she thinks, then I’ve no idea how far she’ll go with it. Just tell Sherlock to keep low for a bit, yeah?”

“Will do, so long as you keep her from stirring up trouble,” I told him; I expected him to give me an angry retort about my attitude, but instead he gave me a smile and chuckled.

“You’ve got passion, and I respect that. Help me, and I’ll help you. You know I always have. But it’s like Donovan said, there’s gonna be a time where I can’t help, and I want to prolongue that as much as I can.”

“Me too,” I said quietly, sighing heavily. “I’ll keep myself in check, and with John’s help, I’m sure we can restrain Sherlock’s massive intellect.”

Lestrade hailed a cab for me and gave me a swift and fleeting hug goodbye as I sat down and shut the door. As the cab rounded the last corner onto Baker Street, my heart tightened. An ambulance sat across the street from the flat, and I couldn’t see either of the boys on the sidewalk. I jumped out and tossed the money to the cabbie as I raced ahead.

A strange man, one of our new neighbors, was being hoisted into the ambulance, and the police were herding people back away from the scene. I flashed my ID and passed the barricade, shoving the door open and running upstairs. The second I pushed the door open, Sherlock rushed past me and I nearly fell back down the stairs.

“Precise details,” he shouted at me, and I just barely caught the doorframe as my heart leapt into my throat. “In the last week, what’s been cleaned?”

“Bloody hell, good to see you’re still alive,” I snapped, giving him a sour look as I came inside; John gave me an apologetic look in response to my confused glance.

“Laicee, I need to know, what have you cleaned?!” Sherlock demanded; giving him a look, I furrowed my brow and thought back.

“I did the kitchen on Tuesday, and the bathroom Wednesday morning-“

“No, in here. You can put back anything but dust. Dust is eloquent.”

As Sherlock waved his dusty fingers at me and whirled about to rub down the mantle, I gave John a look.

“What’s he on about?”

John gave me a puzzled look and shook his head, passing by me down the stairs as the doorbell rang.

“There are cameras in here. We’re being watched,” Sherlock told me, climbing on top of the chair and stepping over onto the table.

“Cameras? In the flat?” I asked him, turning as I heard steps behind me. Lestrade came up beside me, and my face darkened.

“No, inspector,” Sherlock said, drawing all of our attention. When Lestrade began to ask, Sherock turned round.

“The answer is no.”

“You haven’t even heard the question-“

“You want to take me to the station. I’m just saving you the trouble of asking,” Sherlock told him; his face was unusually guarded, his expression almost… troubled?

Lestrade took a breath.

“Sherlock-“

“The scream?”

Lestrade let it out and nodded.

“Yeah.”

I turned to glower at him; he specifically elected not to make eye contact with me.

“Who was it? Donovan? Oh, I bet it was Donovan. She thinks I’m responsible for the kidnapping. This is Moriarty, it’s his game. He’s planted an idea in her head, and you will have to be strong to resist it, Lestrade.”

Lestrade, John, and I stared at him, and Sherlock let out a heavy sigh, as if he was trying to resist something.

“Will you come?”

“First the scream, then a picture of me being taken in for questioning,” Sherlock said quietly, settling at the computer. “This is a game, Lestrade, and not one I’m willing to play. Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan.”

“Mine as well,” I growled as Lestrade turned and walked back down the stairs, his shoulders bowed. John and I exchanged a quick glance, and I took the hint, disappearing into the kitchen to fix a cup of tea.

When I came back out, John had retreated to his room, and Sherlock had moved to his chair. I bent down and held out the tea to him. He had his head tilted down, and his fingers pressed together against his lips; he didn’t look up at me. Setting my own mug down, I took Sherlock’s wrist and pulled a hand free, pressing the cup into his palm.

He lifted his eyes to mine, and I gave him a warm smile. As he began to sip his tea, I settled on the ground in front of him and waited for him to speak. Finally, after a couple of minutes, Sherlock sat the cup on the side table and looked at me.

“Do you believe them?”

“Believe what? That you’ve done this? That you’re a fraud?”

Sherlock nodded, and his eyes flicked away. It was if he was unable to ask me to confirm his fear. I sat my cup down and sat up on my knees to look at him better.

“No, Sherlock. Lestrade and Donovan and the rest of the world can tell me forever that you’re a fake, and I will never believe them.”

His eyes snapped back to me, and I could see the same guarded look they’d held earlier. The same deep sadness that chilled me to the core.

“The evidence is right there-“ he began.

“Once you have ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. You told me that once, Sherlock.”

Sherlock stared at me, unmoving, his brows raising just a bit.

“And?”

“I have ruled out the impossible. It is impossible for you to be a fraud, and therefore all that remains is that you are the most brilliant man I have ever met, and that will forever be the truth.”

“I know that you are unfailingly loyal to me, Laicee, but I need to ask that you take a step back. What could happen in the next couple of days-“

“I really don’t care what could happen. Really, I don’t,” I told him when he began to argue. “I know that Moriarty is after you. Donovan is riling Scotland Yard, and I’m afraid John is right about the newspapers turning everyone against you. I know you’re afraid that everyone will abandon you. But understand me when I say this, Sherlock. I will follow you. No matter what happens in the next couple of days, I promise to be right behind you, if not directly at your side.”

At my last word, the living room flickered with blue and red lights; my stomach dropped, and John came rushing down the steps, pausing just behind me. His face was tight with anxiety.

“Lestrade called me,” he began, his voice almost shaking from his tension. “They’re all coming over here, right now. Cueing up to slap on the handcuffs. Every single officer you made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people.”

As the sirens grew louder, Sherlock and I got to our feet, and the three of us shared a heavy, wary look. There was a vigorous knock at the door, and John pressed his eyes shut for a moment as Mrs. Hudson answered. He turned and raced down the stairs, ready to intercept the officers.

Sherlock turned and grabbed his coat. His deep sadness swept from him and wreathed around me, engulfing my being in a cold, heavy dread. He slipped his coat on, and slowly buttoned it. I swallowed the sadness bearing down on me and came to his side; Sherlock reached for his scarf, but I grabbed it first.

Wordlessly, I folded it and wrapped it around his neck, then tied it loosely like he always did. I slid my hands down the scar and paused at his chest, then managed to take a breath and lift my eyes to look at him.

I could hear Mrs. Hudson shouting at the officers, and faintly, I heard John demanding to see a warrant. Sherlock and I said nothing; as I pulled back from him, his lips flickered up briefly in the ghost of a smile.

The smile faded as swiftly as it came, and we both turned to the door, not prepared in the slightest for the events that would unfold.