They were both crying, Sherlock knew. He had only seen her cry the night he had deduced her love for him.
She had never seen him cry.
The two had tried to wake Hannah, but she wouldn't. So, Sherlock had carried her into the cab and called John to tell him everything was alright, and Hannah was safe with him. He didn't tell him Viola was dead.
Irene couldn't bear to leave her body so they had brought her along, too. Or what used to be her.
When the cabbie asked if she was alright, Irene said she was just sleeping.
The cabbie was the one Hannah had had. If only she were awake to tell them that.
It was a fairly long ride back to Baker street, but neither did anything to keep themselves occupied. Both just sat in silence, holding the other's hand.
Sherlock felt his phone go off. He ignored it.
A few minutes went by and it went off again. He still ignored it. Irene didn't seem to notice.
Again, it went off.
"For God's sake," Sherlock mumbled as he pulled his phone out.
A text, a rather lengthy text, glared on the screen.
Merissa Moriarty, again, dearies. I just want you to know that if you even try to go back to 221B, you will find immediate death. I will be using my likeness to your late daughter to pretend to be her to not raise any suspicion for the time being. Just drop Hannah out the door and go back to THAT MURDERER'S old flat just so I can keep tabs on you. Enjoy your guilt trip.
Sherlock inhaled sharply and showed the text to Irene.
"What....?" Irene said under her breath.
"We have to listen to her," Sherlock said.
"Why? Why can't we just stop her?" Irene complained.
"We-we could but I don't want anymore deaths tonight,' Sherlock reasoned.
Irene nodded.
They arrived at 221B, put Hannah on the steps, and knocked. Good thing there was no one out.
Then, they got back in the cab and told the cabbie to bring them to Irene's old flat. Surprisingly, the cabbie asked no questions.
Thankfully, the flat was unoccupied and all Irene's old stuff was still there.
"I kept it," Irene explained, "Just in case I wanted to see you again."
They walked sluggishly upstairs, arm in arm. Irene let him share the bed, and they both fell asleep, still in their semi-bloody clothing.
YOU ARE READING
A Viola's Song
FanfictionViola Holmes has always wondered if her life was supposed to be like this. Her father is the famous Sherlock Holmes who never has time for her (except for cases) and her mother, Irene Adler, left her when she was very young. Solving cases, fighting...
