Sherlock Holmes | His Greatest Addiction

Chapter 1

Around two and a half years ago...

Hayley turned away from Sherlock Holmes' gravestone and started to walk away when she stopped, half turned and said, "I always believed in you. And I will stick to the promise of forever."

Lowering her head, she let the tears come. And they came and came. She cried for several days after the funeral. It never seemed like it would stop. It was so hard for her to accept the facts. Sherlock was not in her life anymore. He would never come home nor would he ever go on another case. Hayley would never feel the warmth from his body, never the feeling of kissing him or touching him ever again. He was gone.

Sherlock Holmes was dead.

Present day...

Inside Mycroft's office, Sherlock has got a clean new white shirt and black suit to put on after having a beard shaved off and his hair cut since it had grown to a long length over the time. The two brothers had recently returned from Serbia where Sherlock had gotten a rather painful experience.

"Moriarty's network - took me two years to dismantle it," Sherlock told Mycroft.

"Two years and seven months really," his big brother corrects him. "And you're confident you have?"

"Has it been that long? Haven't noticed. Anyway, the Serbian side was the last piece of the puzzle."

"Yes. You got yourself in deep there..." Mycroft checks his report. "...with Baron Maupertuis. Quite a scheme. Anyway, you're safe now."

"Hmm."

"A small 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss."

Sherlock frowns his eyebrows while tucking his shirt in his trousers. "What for?"

"For wading in," Mycroft reminds him and puts away the report. "In case you've forgotten, fieldwork is not my natural milieu."

""Wading in"? You sat there and watched me being beaten to a pulp," Sherlock looks angrily at his brother who only frowns indignantly.

"I got you out."

"No. I got me out." Sherlock sighs while buttoning his shirt. It hurts when he moves too much because of his scars on his back he got after being captured in Serbia.

"I need this matter your full attention, Sherlock. Is that quite clear?"

"What do you think of this shirt?" Sherlock asks.

"Sherlock!"

"Just put me back in London. I need to get to know the place again, breathe it in. Feel every quiver of its beating heart."

"Naturally. However, this is an important matter."

"And what about Hayley?"

Anthea, who has been standing in the background, casts a glance towards Mycroft who returns the look with agony. He is sort of relieved that his little brother didn't see it as he is putting on his jacket. His mind is always on her. Even when he is thinking of something else; a case, Moriarty, John, etc, Hayley is always there. As a reminder of the promise he made her. The promise of forever.

When Sherlock could not endure the silence any longer, he turns to his brother. "Well?"

Mycroft comes to senses and tries hard to think of a good explanation. "She is...alive."

Sherlock frowns his brows and tilts his head. "What do you mean 'alive'?"

"Just take my word that she has moved on. So have John and Mary."