Can't Stay Away (BBC Sherlock) -2-

23. How It Was Done

Dear Journal,

I'm using you so much now compared to when I first got you. This is risky writing in you, what I'm about to jot down. I'll try to be as vague about this as possible, for my sake and anyone else's who happens to read this.

Something's happened, something I've never done before. Life is changing for me. Dad and Mary are expecting, and I was recruited back to Baker Street for a case. Of course, the case wasn't one I was expecting. I was expecting a murder or a complex burglary, or even a terrorist threat. What's going on right now is hard to explain.

Sometimes I wonder if this is real. Sometimes I wonder if I pinch myself hard enough 'will this disappear?' I knew the marriage would have an effect on Sherlock, but to change him this drastically? I can't figure up a good explanation aside from that he is simply becoming more human.

This is all going to have to end soon. This can't go on forever, despite how much I like this. I'll have to be back home in Maryland. I know there will be a time when Dad and Mary will finally announce to the world they're having a baby. Hopefully by then I'll have worked through my weird reaction and settle for a more mature response. Lately, I haven't been thinking about my half-sibling.

I sometimes go back and read Dad's blog, to read up on the cases. Now I understand why I'm never mentioned. It's for my safety in case, God forbid, a new villain decided to look into leverage against my dad and/or Sherlock. I wouldn't want the attention anyway, reporters stalking me and asking me about my dad or my life. I don't know how those two handled it—or still handle it, I guess. Maybe they're just used to it.

I know it's silly, what I'm about to put down, but, I'm scared that it will happen. That Moriarty will somehow come back. I know it sounds impossible since he shot himself, but hey, Sherlock fell off a rooftop and he managed to save himself. I can't rule out the slim possibility of Moriarty returning. I can't rule out the possibility either that his connections are spying on me like he probably asked them to. He could have easily passed the killing-me torch to one of his allies. They could be plotting my death right now...

A little paranoid, I looked towards the closed door, expecting Moriarty to come strolling in like he owned the place. I expected to hear his damned ringtone. I looked to the windows to expect someone peeking inside, dressed in all black and a ski mask, ready to burst in and either murder me or abduct me.

Why am I focusing on him? He's dead. That's what I'd believed about Sherlock too, but he came back after two years. What if Moriarty was waiting longer, if he was coming back at all?

I shut my journal, tossing it to the other edge of the couch. I jumped up, stretching. The noises of London seeped through the closed windows, as did sunlight. I could hear the clock ticking in my head. My time in London was running out.

I went to one of the windows, ducking behind a thin curtain. I watched the streets, the sidewalks, and the sky. St. Bart's hospital, for some unknown reason, came to mind. My head ached as events of The Fall were coming back, mainly focusing on the last moment I'd thought I'd ever see Sherlock Holmes alive.

All you had to do was look down, and you would have known. Fear had prevented me from seeing how Sherlock had lived. Fear had kept me from the truth.

But what was the truth? Even if I got something from Sherlock, there was no guarantee that it would be true.

"He won't return. I can assure you he didn't send anyone out to assassinate you, either."