Waking Nightmares(Lined Bullets)- A GMD Fiction

Chapter 16: Happily Ever After

       During my stay at the hospital (which Dawson claimed was so that I didn't worsen my concussion... or something of the like), there was a point where doctors would ask me redundant questions. This is a basic run through of how it would go:
       "Mr. Basil," the doctor would ask. "State your name, please."
       And I would answer simple enough, "I believe you answered that question for me, doctor."
       He would sigh and give me a stern gaze.
       "Mr. Basil, if you would please--"
       "Aha! See? There you did it again!"
       "Fine, next question... age?"
       "Whose?"
       "Yours, sir."
       "How very rude. Don't you know people can get extremely offended when they're asked that question?"
       By now I would barely able to contain my laughter, but I would make it look like I was serious. This would be when the doctors would usually get a migraine. He did.
       "If you would just cooperate, sir..."
       "Thirty-six."
       "How many siblings?"
       "One."
       "Guardians?"
       "Miss Judson."
       "I'm sorry... what of your parents? Miss Judson is only your landlady."
       That's when I would seriously drop any joking mood I felt and looked him straight in the eye.
       "Oh, she's far more than that."
       "My apologies, but do you remember them?"
       "Yes."
       "What's your occupation?"
       "The only consulting detective in the world."
       "What did you do before you got a concussion."
       "Read a newspaper."
       Finally, he would leave, look at Dawson, and groan. Dawson would ask what I had said, but as I would try to rehash what had been said, I would soon become overcome with giggles. And he would shake his head and leave until I could calm myself down.
*****
       I was actually stuck in that boring place for approximately three weeks.  
       When I was finally released, Dawson wouldn't allow me to go home unaccompanied, so he came along. I could barely contain my nerves as we got closer to Baker Street.
       When I entered my home, I was surprised to have five pairs of eyes looking at me. Before I could really comprehend why there were some many mice in my house, I was tackled by two children... Able and Olivia!
       "Basil," Olivia said. "It's been so long! Are you okay?"
       "Yes," I replied with a small laugh. "Quite, now that I'm surrounded by others."
       I then got up, and lost my balance. Thankfully, Hiram and Byron caught me and helped back to my feet. I thanked them, then I came up to Miss Judson. She had tears in her eyes and brought a hand to my bandaged head. Her quivering lip was stopped, but then she began to sob and hugged me. I hugged her back and I let her hold me for as long as she needed.
       When she let go, Dawson took my arm and led me to my chair which Byron and Able had taken residence of. They stood up, and as I sat down Able sat on my lap. He looked up at me with a grin and lays his head against my chest.
       "Are you gonna be okay Papa," he asked.
       I nodded and leaned my head back. It was good to be home.
       The rest of the day passed quickly with Miss Judson fussing over me every time I winced in pain, and soon everyone was gone or asleep except Byron, Able, and I.
       "Was I really dead when you found me, Byron," I asked. His mood saddened a bit. "I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel like I have been dead... except..."
       "It's fine, Basil," he said. "Wait... except what?"
       I looked down at Able, but I guessed he would need to hear it too. I sighed and looked up at both of them.
       "I saw our mum and father," I said. "And... Colette and Ash."
       They looked at me in shock. Then, they smiled and Able hugged me.
       "Did they say anything," Able asked.
       I shook my head.
       "I could only touch them. They embraced me, but then they seemed to walk me to a certain place and..."
       "What? What," Able asked.
       "I... did hear something... it was Ash... he told me to tell... you, Able... he's very, very proud... and then he wished me luck... then I was alive."
       Byron hadn't said a word, but just sat there. I set Able down, got up, and slowly limped towards him. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up.
       "Are you okay?"
       He nodded.
       "I'm just glad you got to see them. I'm also glad you're alive."
       Suddenly, the old grandfather clock rang eleven at night. Byron shot out of his seat and almost knocked me over.
       "Bloody hell, I've gotta go," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Basil. I'll visit tomorrow, I promise."
       And so, he left in a rush, out the door, and into the night. I waited for a second, then leaned into Able's ear and whispered to him.
       "Would you like to meet someone?"
       "Who is it," he asked.
       "You'll see," I said as I reached the small opening that would lead us to Toby.
*****
       It took a while longer to reach Toby's home than usual due to my injuries, but we reached there by about a quarter past eleven. When we reached the door. I put my ear to the door then opened it slowly. As I predicted, Mr. Holmes, who I studied and learned much of my own deductive skills from, was in his room practising his violin at that moment. I stepped out onto carpeted floor and pulled out a thin metal whistle.
       "Papa, what's that," Able asked.
       "You'll see soon enough," I replied.       
       Then, I blew as hard as I could into the small trinket.
       "I don't here anything, Papa."
       "You are not supposed to hear it..."
       Just then, a thunderous set of paws came toward us. It was Toby. His breathing was heavy as he panted and looked down at me and Able. Able had clung to my good leg at first when he saw the giant dog, but after being sniffed and licked, my son giggled and patted Toby on the nose.
       "He is," I said. "But he isn't the one you need to meet, though he is a charming chap."
       Then I looked towards Toby and spoke into his floppy ear.
       "It's time for a visit, Toby."
       He nodded happily and then plopped onto his stomach. Able looked at me with glee and pointed to Toby as if he thought he had to ask. I nodded and he ran the dog and climbed onto his back. I limped over to Toby, but suddenly, my leg spasmed and collapsed.
       "Basil," Able cried. "Are you okay?"
       I grimaced and tried to get up, but the pain increased the more I tried to get up. Toby, then pushed me up with his nose.
       "Good boy," I whispered. "I'm fine, Able, don't you worry."
       Then, I slowly climbed to Toby's back and held tight to his collar. He then trotted back to Sherlock's room where he was playing a lovely piece of violin music.
       Toby brought us to the detective's desk. Able climbed up first, then I followed slowly. Once we reached the top, Able sat at the edge of the desk, listening to the master violinist as I retreated to a drawer and took out one of my own violins.
       I got it out swiftly, limped back over to Able and began to play a harmony to Mr. Holmes' piece. Able looked back at me in awe and smiled.
       When the piece came to an end, Sherlock slowly put down his instrument with a sigh and sent a smile towards the desk.
       "I was beginning to wonder when I you would come and visit again, Basil," he whispered.
       I smile towards him as I put away my own violin, then I stood up and went back to Able. Soon, Sherlock finished the maintenance on his instrument and sat in a chair behind the desk. His smile grew when he noticed Able standing up and walking over to me.
       "And I see we are in the midst of a young one. And who may you be, lad?"
       Able looked at me and then cupped his hands around his mouth.
       "Able, sir," he yelled. "Basil is my father."
       "No need for formalities, Able," Sherlock responded. "Just call me Sherlock. And there's no need to yell. I can hear you just fine."
       Able nodded and blushed. I smiled at him and then looked at my old friend.
       "Any interesting cases recently, Sherlock," I asked.
       "No, I'm afraid not. It's an absolute bore, but I see that you've had run in with something, now haven't you?"
       Before I could answer, my head suddenly erupted with pain as my vision blurred and I became quite dizzy. I began to fall, but one of Sherlock's hands caught me. He placed me slowly and gently on a small stack of books and stared at me.
       "I say, Basil," he said. "That is quite a nasty bump you have there. You have been over-working yourself again haven't you?"
       "Don't act like you don't do it too," I retorted as I placed a hand on my head to stop the spinning.
       I let out a groan and sat up. Holmes' ice-blue eyes were looking down at me in curiosity which I returned.
       What is he thinking?
       "How did this all happen, old friend," he asked. "You've become a father, and gotten the devil beaten out of in a short span of time."
       And so, I retold the story with help of Able of all that had happened. Sherlock listened intently and seemed fascinated in the story. When I finished, the detective sat back in his chair and contemplated the story.
       "That's an extraordinary story," he breathed. "To be honest, Basil, you're very lucky to be alive."
       "I know," I said. "I'm very lucky to faithful doctor and a loving brother to help me."
       He nodded.
       "I as well am very lucky to be blessed with such people. Let us never forget that."
       A chime came from an old clock in the corner of his room. It was already midnight! Able had to get to bed.
       "Well, would you look at the time," Sherlock said. "It's probably best if you two get along now. You both need your rest."
       I then slid off the books and came over to where Able had dozed off. I shook his shoulder to wake him up, then gathered him up in my arms, careful not to disrupt his broken wrist. He stirred, then cuddled back into my arms. Sherlock helped us to Toby who carried us back to the tunnel. The detective followed us, and before I left his home he bent down and asked a question.
       "Will I be seeing you two again soon, then?"
       "Most definitely. Perhaps next time we could bring our doctors so that they may converse."
       "That would be a sight... goodnight Basil of Baker Street."
       "Goodnight, Sherlock Holmes."
       Then, I left, with little Able in my arms. When we got back home, I undressed Able and placed him in his night clothes. I laid him in bed and kissed his forehead. After tucking him in, I turned around and began to leave the room.
       "Papa," Able asked quietly.
       "Yes, Able," I answered as I walked back to his bed and took a seat.
       "Do you think we are gonna live happily ever after now?"
       I thought for a second, then replied in the most honest and wholesome answer that I believed was right.
       "Well, there will always be troubles around every corner, Able... but I believe that as long as we remember that we're surrounded by our loved ones, we can live happily."
       "Oh... okay. Goodnight, Papa," he yawned.
       "Goodnight, son... I love you."
       He smiled and fell asleep. As I left the room, I turned out the light and went to bed myself.
       As I laid there in my bed, thinking over all that had happened. I really was a lucky mouse. Soon enough, my exhausted body relaxed and mind began to create new adventures I might have with my loved ones.

THE END