The Death Game

Chapter 39

Last time John had seen Sherlock was in the middle of the street. It was midnight and they had just broken into Kitty Riley's house for information. Information, which it strangely seemed she was the only one to possess. In her late article she had written the life story of Sherlock Holmes. She had had every single detail right, every single one. Wondering where she could possibly have gotten that information, they broke into her house.

Only to come face to face with Jim Moriarty himself. Only this time, he called himself Richard Brook. He told them he was nothing but a storyteller for some kid's TV show on the telly. He accused Sherlock of paying him to play his rival, his worst nightmare. Both Kitty and what he called himself Richard, accused Sherlock of being a fraud, a fake. That all his genius was purely invented and that he was nothing more than another man bored with his life.

They had announced that they were going to tell the whole world that Sherlock Holmes was a fake genius. Taken out of anger, Sherlock charged for Jim, disguised as Richard Brook, only for him to escape by the bathroom window and run away into the night. Now that's where John saw Sherlock for the last time. He had walked away from his friend as he headed in the opposite direction. He said there was something he had to do. On his own.

This is where we are now. This is the present and this was happening directly at St. Bart's Hospital. Abygaëlle came out of a small side room in a lab, switched off the blinding bright lights and slowly walked across the darkened lab, sighing tiredly as she was ready to go home. As she reached the door to the corridor, Sherlock stood in the darkness behind her, his face turned away from her. Not seeing him, she reached for the door handle.

''You're wrong, you know.'' Sherlock finally muttered under his breath as Aby gasped and turned to face him, ''You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you.'' he walked towards her, ''But you were right. I'm not okay.''

''Tell me what's wrong?'' Abygaëlle asked, concern in her voice.

''Aby, I think I'm going to die.'' Sherlock sighed as he kept walking towards her.

''What do you need?'' she replied, extending her hand out to him.

''If I wasn't everything that you think I am... everything that I think I am....'' he continued, stopping close to her, ''Would you still want to help me?''

''What do you need?'' she repeated as she gazed up to him.

''You.'' Sherlock answered as he stepped even closer to Abygaëlle, his expression intense as he looked deep into her dark eyes, as if he could see her soul.

-Diogenes Club-

The Diogenes Club was the one Juliet and John had been asked to come, a few days ago. It was the same club where they had met Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, in a separate room, hidden from everyone as if this was an illegal meeting. This time, John went alone... Juliet was, well, she wasn't in a very good shape.

Inside, Mycroft walked across one of the common rooms, where an old man was fast asleep in an armchair, and went into the smaller private room, reaching for the door handle to close it, but he stopped as he realised that John Watson was sitting in one of the large armchairs, with his back to him. John was still looking through Kitty Riley's file they had found.

''She has really done her homework, Miss Riley... things that only someone close to Sherlock could know,'' John said sarcastically as Mycroft closed the door, ''Have you seen your brother's address book lately? Three names: yours, Juliet, mine, and Moriarty didn't get this stuff from Juls and I.''

''John...'' Mycroft sighed as he walked across the room to face him.

''So how does it work, then, your relationship? Do you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?'' John continued as Mycroft sat in front of him, ''Your own brother, and you babbled about his entire life to this maniac.''