Failing Upward

Chapter 26 (part 2): In Dark Dreams

Toby was barking. I'd heard the same so many times before. An auditory hallucination, or another wish made into a dream. I ignored it. I heard scraping. I reminded myself I was hearing only what I wished for. When light blinded me, when I heard Glenda say, "He's here," I still didn't believe it was real, not until they pulled me out, and I felt my face wet from Sean's tears as he hugged me, crying.

I shivered, I choked and sobbed along with them, Glenda, Gregory, and Sean. Toby licked my face without a care about the sand. After wrapping me in a moth-eaten red wood blanket, Lestrade carried me out to his car.

They gave me water. I gulped down too much, but I didn't care.

The long ride home didn't seem so long. Not compared to the eternity I'd just spent underground.

I scratched myself raw on the way trying to get the sand off. Shit, it was fucking inside me and crawling to get out. I didn't think that feeling would ever leave. Part of me thought I was dreaming.

Toby warmed my lap as I leaned closer to Sean. He told me how long they'd looked for me. It was Lestrade who finally found the spot where I was buried. They weren't sure what they'd find.

I could barely choke out the words, but I had to speak. To prove to myself I was real. "Thank you, thank you for finding me, Mr. Lestrade."

"What's this with calling me Mr. Lestrade? I thought you were over that long ago."

"Uncle Gregory," I said.

"You're forgiven for calling me Lestrade. I'd so happy I'd forgive you anything right now!" he said, looking at me in the rearview mirror. "Do you want to stop somewhere for something to eat? Something warm to drink? You're shaking the springs loose in that seat."

"God, coffee sounds like heaven, but home. To Sherlock."

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back on the seat. Far off I heard Glenda repeat "Sherlock?"

I must have fallen asleep, because I jumped awake, breathing hard. "How did you find me?"

"It was my idea," Sean said, "to use Toby. We tried it before, but this time we went to a different part of the beach." Sean reached over and squeezed my hand.

"For a moment there when I woke up just now, I thought I was back there," I said.

"Well, you're here. After all those months..." Sean said.

"I'm going to make sure he never hurts us again," my uncle said. I noticed his hands were clenched white on the steering wheel. "It's something I should have done a long time ago."

And as they pulled into the long driveway at the Lestrade's home, I sat up and pressed my forehead to the car window. Months... I was down there for months...

"The whole world has changed," I said aloud.

"What?" Sean asked me. "What did you say?"

There were no leaves on the trees. Dirty patches of snow lined the drive.

"Sherlock," I said louder. "Where is Sherlock?"

"Sherlock who?" Glenda asked. "You said that before."

"Sherlock?" said Sean. He turned to me and jabbed me in the ribs. "Sherlock Holmes?"

I nodded.

"Our band's manager," Sean said to her. "The man can get things done. Spent some time as freelance reporter. You must have heard us talk about him before."

"I don't recall. Why would you ask about him?" Glenda wondered as she looked over the seat at me.

Uncle Greg stopped the car in front of the house. Massive icicles hung almost to the ground off the old Victorian porch, some were as big around as my calf.