Michael Holmes: Secret Son of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 12: Breaking Out

After the incident, Michael was thrown into a more boring and strict juvenile cell for a day as to teach him a 'lesson'. He groaned at the thought of just being confined there for 24 hours.

A few guards were on duty, standing right at the end of the hall, beside the only door on this floor that leads to the staircase. Michael smiled as he went into his pocket and took out a key. The key that could open his juvenile cell and unlock that exact door that would lead to his escape.

The key shined through the darkness which covered the entire cell. All Michael had to do now was to wait for the perfect moment.

Just then he heard a loud thud. He looked outside of his juvenile cell and saw the guards dropping to the ground. He was a bit shocked at first but then immediately unlocked the cell and rushed towards the door.

The light became brighter as he opened the door. He slowly recognised the familiar faces... Sherlock Holmes and his best friend Doctor Watson.

"Dad...?" Michael was surprised to see his father. John raised an eyebrow at his friend as Michael said the word 'Dad'. Sherlock obviously haven't told John yet.

"Just 'Sherlock' is fine." He casually brushed his curly hair and pretended that Michael had not just called him... you know... that word. "We already looped the cameras and shut down the alarm, so it shouldn't ring in about..."

"5 minutes." Sherlock looked down at his watch.

Sherlock seemed to have somehow managed to get a copy of the entire map of this juvenile detention center because he knew all the ways to the exit. John and Michael tried to keep up with him running through the stairs and the long hallways.

The guard who was checking on Michael earlier realised that he has escaped. He tried to set off an alarm but was dumbfounded when he couldn't. He called security and continued to press the alarm button. After 5 long minutes he finally managed.

"THERE'S A BREAK OUT! SHUTTING ALL DOORS!"

The alarm blazed and the guards ran after them. Sherlock, John and Michael finally reached the last door as it closed in front of their eyes. "Shit." John muttered. "What are we going to do now!?"

Michael also starts to panic too but then realised the smirk on Sherlock's face. He went into his coat and took out a card. He flashed the card on the device which was placed beside the door and it opened automatically.

John glanced at Sherlock. "You stole from Mycroft again?" Michael looked in confusion as he doesn't know who is this 'Mycroft' guy.

Sherlock snickered. "Told you. Literally a magical card that can unlock all doors in the world. Works wonders."

Michael sighed in relief as he could finally feel the fresh air blowing at him again. "What's the plan now?"

"Uhh..." Sherlock giggled nervously. "I didn't actually think we would get this far, so..." John and Michael looked at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious!? We got so far for... what? Nothing!?" John panicked, walking around in circles. "Tell me this is some bloody joke."

Sherlock was about to say something just as a black limo appeared right in front of us. The window rolled open and a lady called to them as she typed on her mobile phone. "Anthea." John said.

"Of course it's always him interfering with people's business." Sherlock muttered, rolling his eyes. We sat in the luxurious car and the entire ride was surprisingly quiet.

Sherlock and Anthea typed on their mobile phone like their lives depended on it, John looked outside the window, and Michael sat in the middle seat, the most uncomfortable spot in his opinion. The car suddenly stopped as we arrived at a tall building.

Michael glanced at the building and his eyes widen slightly. Wait a minute... The British Government...?

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They were led to the room located at the end of the hall on the top floor. Somebody with high power, then.

Michael looked at the well-organized office and immediately realised the marks on the floor that indicate that a man was in this room. They sat down on the chairs provided.

The man wore and expensive suit, he's probably at his 60's- even though he doesn't look that age. No offense to the man- there are signs that he was rather corpulent a few years back, but he has been working out nowadays and is improving.

He probably wants to talk to me about Sherlock because he is the only person I've met in London so far (Not including John and June) . Looks very serious, so he's probably either an enemy or a close friend/ relative of Sherlock's. But as he treated us so nicely with an expensive limo and everything, he's probably just a very worried relative with lots of power.

Since he was willing to stoop so low just to get information about Sherlock, most probably a family member. Too young for a dad, too old for a little brother, so elder brother it is.

"Hi, uncle." Michael spoke first.

"I trust Sherlock didn't bother to tell you about me?"

Michael chuckled. "No."

"Mycroft." The man shook Michael's hand. "Other than my name, I believe that you don't need any further introduction from me." The kid smiled because he hates long and boring introductions.

"I'm truly sorry, I have lots of work to do." Mycroft sat down and took out a mountain of documents from his drawer. "But first, I want my card back." He glared at Sherlock.

The detective kept quiet for a while. "Or?" He scoffed.

"Or I'll call security."

"Fine." Sherlock gave the card back unwillingly.

"You are full of surprises, brother-mine." The so-called 'British Government' mumbled as he signed the documents. "Are you going to show me your lucky girl?" He said in a teasing tone.

"You know that she's... not here." Sherlock replied. "Stop traumatizing the kid."

Mycroft smirked. "Are you sure that it doesn't affect you too?"

"Anabelle Powell is a criminal and a murderer. I was inexperienced and our relationship didn't last long." Sherlock said with a straight face. "It's been years and for the last time, I don't have 'feelings' for her."

[I don't mean any offence to anyone who's name is Anabelle Powell]

Mycroft glanced up from his papers and looked at Sherlock for a while. "Your eye pupils don't say the same." He sighed. "You almost convinced me, though."

John and Michael stared at the sociopath. Sherlock didn't say anything. Maybe... well, just maybe... the consulting detective was more emotional than we thought?

"Well, I've released all charges on Michael so he's not guilty anymore." Mycroft got up from his seat, breaking the silence. He then smiled at Michael. "Consider it a meeting gift."

His assistant then waved them out of the room. The journey back to Baker Street was even quieter than earlier. Michael looked at his father and grabbed his hand tightly.

And surprisingly, Sherlock didn't push his hand away.