The Question of Faith in Baskerville

Chapter Nineteen: Catching Up

John tried to keep from stomping from the car rental to the train station, but the most he managed was ensuring a rigid parade march.

"You could have gone faster," Sherlock said.

"You are not being my driving instructor ever again," John snapped.

"Do not make me drag you by the ears like two misbehaving children," Molly warned. "I've heard quite enough from you two. John will see about driving lessons within the next week, and Sherlock will stay out of it." She growled. "I never want to witness that spectacle again."

"But—"

"Not another word, Sherlock," John said. "I'm tired. I can feel a headache coming. I don't want to hear another word from you unless it's an apology." Okay, maybe it was a little harsh, but John didn't want to hear any more complaints or excuses from him.

About a half-hour later while waiting for their train, Sherlock passed him a water bottle and some generic painkillers. "Agree to never speak of that drive again?" he offered.

John blew out a breath before releasing a small smile. "Agreed," he said. Frankly, it had just been plain embarrassing. He popped two pills and slowly drained the water until they got on their train.

As their train started down the track, John was fully prepared to close his eyes and sleep the next two hours. But his phone rang just then. Rolling his eyes, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Finally saw your text."

"Stephen!" John cried.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Stephen's on the phone," John answered.

"Put it on speaker," Molly urged as she and Sherlock crowded round.

John pressed the speaker button. "Where on earth have you been?" he demanded. "It's been months."

"Sorry," Stephen said, his voice now sounding painfully American. "You can say that I've had one of the more interesting experiences that a Nobody can claim."

"Understatement," another voice said, indicating Stephen was also on speaker.

"Yes, thank you, Wong," Stephen said. "Frankly, it's a long, complicated story that should be told face to face if not in person."

"At least give us something," Molly said.

"Yes, you are not allowed to give us something so vague without at least giving us some details," Sherlock said.

Stephen chuckled. "Alright. I'll start with . . . I'm on a different world."

"What? Why didn't you tell us?" Molly asked.

"Why change worlds at all?" Sherlock demanded.

"I didn't want you all to worry about me," Stephen said. "I had to change worlds because your world can't support the magic I use. It would have worn down on both of us, putting the world at risk again. I couldn't do that. I had to find another world, preferably one similar to our own but able to sustain my sort of magic. I actually managed to find two such worlds.

"I had full intentions of contacting you shortly after I arrived on the first, but I wasn't even there a full twenty-four hours before I found myself sent on a mission on the second with my memories temporarily locked."

"Okay, that will take awhile to unpack," John said.

"And I'm not going to tell you who I met on that world before I was sent to this one," Stephen said. "But I will definitely say that . . . I have a far more established place on this world than I would have dreamed of getting."