Failing Upward

Chapter 18 (part 1): And Miles to Go

Time to give the gift of life again. Molly tried for the third time to find a good vein to start a new IV, slapping my wrist with two fingers to get my veins to pop.

I used to give during the Red Cross blood drives two or three times a year. My veins never collapsed. She jabbed the needle in for another try. No luck. I don't think I'll give at a drive ever again.

"I'll try one more time." I looked away this time as she stuck me. She sighed with relief. Found one.

Before she hooked me up completely, I decided to try asking again to use the bathroom. I hoped she'd let me go. After she'd made me suffer through digging for veins, I thought I might stand a chance. I'd beg. Look sad. Maybe whine. Nothing more degrading than pleading for permission, but I felt desperate to get out of these restraints.

I could see her tallying up pros and cons in her brain while I gave her my best pathetic puppy eyes. She seemed skittish today.

"I won't try to get away... just let me up and go," I asked.

It worked. She started undoing the restraints.

"Thanks."

"Dr. Moriarty ordered the video camera removed in this room."

I watched her for a moment. She kept her gaze focused on her hands as she undid the buckles.

She unstrapped the four main restraints, and leaned over me to unbuckle my hands. My arms felt disconnected and I watched my hands open and close like Frankenstein's monster.

I stood on my first try. Surprising how well I walked after being flat on my back for over two weeks. My legs were like my hands, an amputee's ghost limbs reversed. I had to take a moment to convince myself they were still attached, and even then still felt their absence. Molly was pleased to see that I didn't need her help. With my catheter bag strapped to my leg, I wobbled ahead with Molly close beside me.

She shut the bathroom door behind. Good. No need to have her follow me in— times like these I needed privacy and plenty of reading material. At least I had privacy.

When done, I washed my hands and got a close look at myself in the mirror. I looked older. Circles under my eyes and a pasty complexion. I scratched the scruff on my face that looked to be the start of a decent beard. I traced my fingers up to my temple and began to think about Molly's statement. I knew exactly why a man obsessed with taking pictures of me would remove the video camera.

So no one else could see.

I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet. Sure fucking burns when strawberry jam toast and oatmeal come out your nose.

"Are you all right?" Molly's voice squeaked with alarm.

"Fine, I'll be fine." No, I wasn't. I recollected Moriarty's touch and heaved again. So much for breakfast.

My hands shook on the cold porcelain sink as I pulled myself up. Turning on the cold tap, I splashed water in my face as Molly knocked on the door. God, I wanted out of here.

Pushing Moriarty out of my mind wasn't going to make him go away. I needed to get away. I needed a plan, but it was beyond me to come up with one. I could ask Molly for help, but how much could she do? I couldn't count on Deal to watch Moriarty, and I didn't trust him to get me out. Eurus seemed my best bet, but I didn't know if I would ever see her again. Sooner or later Moriarty was going to get me alone. No cameras—no witnesses.

Sherlock would have a plan. I wanted Sherlock safe but I also knew that if he could, he would come after me. That terrified me almost as much. I'd given up all hope of Mycroft showing up and saving me.