Loving a Holmes

Now What?

This time there's no corridor and the doorway leads directly into another grey-walled room. The lights in both rooms turn white again. Sherlock's eyes flick around the new room. Again there's no window and each of the four walls has a screen against it – although these are on stands – currently showing pouring water. There is nothing else in the room. The floor is mostly grey apart from a large white panel in the center. "Hey, sis, don't mean to complain but this one's empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?"

The screens flicker on and show Eurus still sitting in the governor's office. "It's not empty, Sherlock. You've still got the gun, haven't you? I told you you'd need it because only three can play the next game. Just three of you go on from here, your choice. It's make-your-mind-up time. Whose help do you need the most, John or Mycroft?" Mycroft frowns round at John, who sighs and turns away. "It's an elimination round. You choose one and kill the other. You have to choose, family or friend. Mycroft or John Watson?"

Sherlock turns round to face us. The lights turn red and Jim appears on the screens, tilting his head from one side to the other as he whispers loudly through his teeth. "Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick."

Mycroft steps forward and shouts. "Eurus, enough!"

The lights turn white and she's back on the screen. "Not yet, I think. But nearly. Remember, there's a plane in the sky and it's not going to land."

Mycroft rubs his hands over his face and then lowers them and steps forward towards Sherlock. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"We're not actually going to discuss this, are we?" Mycroft turns his head towards John. "I'm sorry, Doctor Watson. You're a fine man in many respects. Make your goodbyes and shoot him." He looks at his brother for a couple of seconds, then points towards John and raises his voice. "Shoot him!"

"What?" John steps toward Mycroft.

Mycroft glances at him for a brief moment and then turns back to his brother. "Shoot Doctor Watson. There's no question who has to continue from here. It's us; you, me, and Madison. Whatever lies ahead requires brainpower, Sherlock, not sentiment. Don't prolong his agony, shoot him."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Today, we are soldiers. Soldiers die for their country. I regret, Doctor Watson, that privilege is now yours."

I step forward. "Wait, we don't need to do this."

John sighs and shakes his head. "Shit. He's right. He is, in fact, right."

Mycroft looks at John but speaks to Sherlock. "Make it swift. No need to prolong his agony. Get it over with... and we can get to work." John shifts on the spot and straightens up, bracing himself. Sherlock lowers his head and half-turns away. Mycroft scoffs at the sight, then starts to chuckle sarcastically. "God! I should have expected this. Pathetic. You always were the slow one... the idiot. That's why I've always despised you. You shame us all. You shame the family name. Now, for once in your life, do the right thing. Put this stupid little man out of all our misery. Shoot him!"

"Stop it." Sherlock speaks quickly.

"Look at him. What is he? Nothing more than a distraction, a little scrap of ordinariness for you to impress, to dazzle with your cleverness. You'll find another. You already have another, don't you? You can lose one of them."

"Please, for God's sake, just stop it." Sherlock shakes his head, still not looking at Mycroft. His voice low as he speaks.

"Why?" Mycroft blinks and lifts his head, looking a little disappointed.

Sherlock turns his head towards John but doesn't look at him. "Because, on balance, even your Lady Bracknell was more convincing. Ignore everything he just said. He's being kind. He's trying to make it easy for me to kill him." Sherlock looks towards John, but John has already turned his head to Mycroft. Mycroft reaches up to smooth his hair a little but now lowers his hand and smiles ruefully at his brother. "Which is why this is going to be so much harder."

Sherlock turns to face Mycroft and raises the gun, pointing it at him. On the screen behind him, Eurus shows a trace of emotion for the first time, her eyes widening and her mouth opens a little. Mycroft smiles at him. "You said you liked my Lady Bracknell."

I whisper softly. "Sherlock, don't."

"It's not your decision. Not in the face, though, please. I've promised my brain to the Royal Society."

"Where would you suggest?" Sherlock takes a deep breath.

"Well... I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me. I don't imagine it's much of a target but... why don't we try for that?"

John walks to his side and holds out a hand towards Sherlock. "I won't allow this."

I place a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "I won't either."

Sherlock shakes his head, looking at me over his shoulder. "Wait, why just John and Mycroft? Why not between the three of them?"

The four of us turn to the screen, on which Eurus is smiling. "Well, I wouldn't want to hurt my unborn Niece or Nephew, now would I?" I feel the blood drain from my face as Sherlock and I look to each other, as I place my hands on my stomach. When I turn back to John and Mycroft they looked equally shocked. It all makes sense, the cramps, the fact I've felt shitty for a week or so, getting sick and feeling nauseous in situations I normally wouldn't feel even a bit queasy about.

Mycroft clears his throat as he adjusts his tie. "Well, I'm terribly sorry I won't ever met the little fellow. This is my fault so on we go, Sherlock."

"What do you mean."I look up to Mycroft, my attention had been on my stomach.

"Her Christmas treat five minutes' conversation with Jim Moriarty five years ago."

Sherlock turns his attention for me to Mycroft. "What did they discuss?"

Mycroft sighs. "Five minutes' conversation... unsupervised." John's mouth opens and he stumbles back a step. Mycroft looks down ruefully. As John continues to back away, Sherlock sighs softly and raises the pistol again. Mycroft straightens up and looks at him. "Goodbye, brother mine. No flowers... by request."

Sherlock raises the gun toward his brother, shifting his finger more firmly onto the trigger of the gun and takes aim. On the screen behind him, Eurus speaks breathlessly, her eyes wide. "Jim Moriarty thought you'd make this choice. He was so excited."

The lights in the room turn red and Jim appears on the screen, speaking more softly than previously. "And here we are, at the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes. This is where I get off."

The lights go white and Eurus is back on the screen. Sherlock's gaze is fixed on his brother, his expression grim, almost clenching his teeth. "Five minutes. It took her just five minutes to do all of this to us." He turns his eyes towards John, who looks at him more closely. Sherlock returns his gaze to his brother, then raises his eyebrows and shrugs, pressing his lips together for a moment before lowering the gun and turning away. "Well, not on my watch."

Mycroft looks startled. John turns to face Sherlock, licking his lips. Eurus calls out of the speakers. "What are you doing?"

"A moment ago, a brave man asked to be remembered. I'm remembering the governor." Holding the pistol in both hands, he lifts the muzzle and presses the end under his chin. "Ten."

I shake my head and turn away from him, as Eurus calls out again. "No, No, Sherlock."

"Nine... Eight..."

"You can't!"

"Seven..."

"You don't know about Redbeard yet."

"Six..."

"Sherlock!"

"Five..."

"Sherlock, stop that at once!"

"Four..." Just then I feel a small prick in the side of my neck. When I grab what hit me, I pull it around and see that it's a dart. I can hear Sherlock's voice growing weaker as he continues on. "Three... Two..." I turn and see Sherlock fall backward, but before I can step forward I feel my legs growing weak. Falling as well and once I hit the ground everything goes black.