Sweet Dreams

Chapter Seven

Lo’s POV

Sherlock said he would be back at four. It’s seven now. I’ve tried ringing him but he won’t pick up. I’m scared out of my mind. Mrs. Hudson has been keeping me company and she even made me tea, but she knows how concerned I am.

“I’m sure he’s fine, dear. You know Sherlock, though. He tends to do these kinds of things.”

Mrs. Hudson eventually leaves, saying she needs to go her dishes. Now I’m all by myself and I can’t stop worrying.

At eight, John finally calls me. I pick it up, hoping he’s with Sherlock. Instead, I can hear that he’s been crying and his voice is shaky.

“Lo, you need to come down to St. Bart’s right now.”

“Why? John, what’s happening?"

“It’s Sherlock.” My stomach flops. “He’s… he’s dead.”

I drop the phone and scream. I cry for about fifteen minutes before a teary-eyed Mrs. Hudson gets me into a cab to the hospital.

Once I get there, I run inside to find John and Mary sitting in the lobby. I sit down next to them and we’re all quiet for ten minutes before I open my mouth.

“How’d it happen?” I ask. Mary looks at me, then to her husband who has his head in his hands.

“He jumped,” John replies.

“I’m sorry? I-I don’t understand.”

“Lo, he… killed himself. I witnessed it. Off this very building. He called me and then… jumped.”

I sit in horror, my mouth gaping wide open.

“Excuse me for a moment…” I say. I walk into the restroom and begin sobbing all over again. “A baby, Sherlock… For God’s sake, you have a baby on the way…” I wipe my tears, fix my messy hair in the mirror, and walk back out to John and Mary. Molly Hooper is talking to them and she is crying as well.

“Lo, oh God Lo, I’m… I’m so sorry. He was a wonderful man, he really was.” She takes an envelope out of her lab coat pocket. “We found this on the rooftop. It’s addressed to you.”

I take the envelope in my hand and open it, careful not to tear any paper inside. The letter reads:

Lo-

Humbert is still out there, but do not be afraid. Needs that you have, safety wise, I’m sure John can help you with. Me and you being together was risky but I wouldn’t take back any of it. Dead? I may be, but death is never the end. Love between us was real, never forget that. You were the first and only person I’ve loved like that. –Sherlock

The letter makes me cry even more. He thought of me. He thought of me in his last moments but I wasn’t enough to save him. I put the letter back in the envelope and stuff it in my pocket.

“For the record, Lo,” John says, his head still down, “Sherlock was messed up. So messed up. But that’s no excuse for him to do this. You’re pregnant, for God’s sake. I don’t know what he was thinking. I just… I’m so sorry.” He hugs me.

“I know he was messed up. But he was brilliant and–“ I stop myself. “He was brilliant, wasn’t he?” John and Mary exchange glances. “I’m sorry… I think I have to go home. I… I’ll call.”

I get in a taxi and after paying the driver, I immediately rush inside the house. I sit at Sherlock’s computer, but there is a password to log on.

What would Sherlock think of?

Typing something like “deductions” or “john” would be too obvious. I search the bookshelf in hopes of finding any clues. It must be in his journal, I think. I run into our bedroom and open his journal to the most recent entry. The only thing on the page, in Sherlock’s scribbly handwriting, reads:

7th of April

It’s a girl. Lo wants to name her Charlotte in honour of her mother. Her thoughts are so lovely.

I close the journal and run back to the laptop. Slowly, I type in “charlotte” and hit enter. The desktop loads. Sherlock was the most complicated man with a simple heart.

I see a Word document on the cluttered desktop titled “To Lo, my brilliant love.” I click on it. The document isn’t too long, but it’s the most important thing I’ve ever read.

Lo-

You brilliant girl! I knew you would figure it out. If you’re still confused about my note, here’s a hint: the code is found in every first word. Elementary, really.

I love you and our soon-to-be daughter. Take care of yourself for me.

I close the laptop screen and take the note out of my pocket. I grab a pen and begin circling the beginning word of every sentence. The final result makes me jaw drop.

Humbert needs me dead. I love you.

Humbert pushed him to do this. But why does he need Sherlock dead?

A realization punches me in the face: Sherlock was an obstacle of getting to me. I pick up my phone and dial John’s number.

“Lo! What the hell? Are you okay?” John says frantically.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. For the most part. But could you maybe let me stay with you and Mary tonight? I don’t want to be alone… Not after today.”

“Of course! Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’ll explain everything when I see you guys, I promise. I’ll be on my way now.”

I direct the next available cabby to the Watson home and prepare to tell them my discoverings.

©2014 “Sweet Dreams” by Peyton Celeste. See story description for detailed copyright information.