Playing Games With The Devil - A Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter fourteen: Captured Criminal

I am wide awake but I don't make any effort to move. By my calculations it's noon already, meaning Sherlock is probably out looking for me. Although at this point I suspect he's only searching for a body.

He'll be disappointed to learn that I am in fact alive and still let our killer get away, after all that was supposed to be my purpose for going to meet him. I should have phoned Sherlock or Lestrade as soon as I discovered who it was.

Instead, I got drunk and passed out. How pathetic.

When I woke up this morning I was instantly filled with regret. Now, I think it's mostly self loathing. I wish I could turn it all off and not feel a thing. Because no matter how hard I try or how much I drink, I will never be able to forget trying to kill my own brother.

For years I've lived with my actions just fine, but seeing Kyle last night made me realise how much I missed him. I'm trying very hard not to think about what it must have been like for him. Knowing that I, his own little sister, wanted him dead.

I took the easy way out that night and I can honestly say I will never forgive myself.

***

I text Sherlock and let him know where I am. I don't mention my encounters last night only that he needs to hurry and get here. He doesn't reply but shows up almost and hour later.

"What happened?" He asks me. "It was Kyle." I say. "Kyle, as in your dead brother?" Sherlock questions giving me a look that shows he thinks I'm still drunk. "Apparently pretending to be dead is a rather popular thing nowadays."

Sherlock ignores my comment. "What did he tell you?" He asks. "He said that he's been bidding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to ruin my life. He doesn't want me dead; he just wants revenge." I answer. "Seems reasonable." Sherlock says, moving over beside me.

"You smell awful." He comments. I roll my eyes and retort with a few very unladylike words. "Well, since you're the brilliant one what's the plan?" I ask.

"Plan for what?"

"I don't particularly fancy the idea of my bother ruining my life; albeit, I do deserve it but that's beside the point. I was hoping you would know something useful. And I don't want to hurt Kyle, just possibly persuade him into forgiving me." I say picking at a shard of the rum bottle on the floor.

"I think you may have bigger problems than a sibling rivalry." Sherlock tells me. "What do you mean?" I ask. "Do you happen to remember that family you burned to death in Verona? Well it seems Moriarty's client wants revenge, on the both of you. I'm not sure how he discovered that you were the one who killed them but he did. Maybe in the future you should think twice before deciding to commit murder, it never seems to end well." He says with a smug look.

Sherlock walks out of the door before I am able to ask any more questions. I take one last look at the place before following behind him, although I'm not quite sure where I plan to go. I suppose I could catch up to Sherlock and pester him until he divulges more information but I'm really not in the mood. I don't feel like talking to anyone but I don't want to be alone either, if that makes any sense.

I walk along the familiar streets with my unknown destination. Lately it feels as if there's been a series of conundrums, one after the next. In the past I've had very bad experiences dealing with problems of my own. I miss being a detective; I miss solving crimes, I miss the thrill of it all. Working out the problems of strangers is easy. My own, not so much.

***

I've been walking for nearly two hours; the cold air wakes me up inside making it possible for me to properly think. I haven't been this screwed up in years. My actions last night and in Italy were not unprecedented but the alcoholic murderer is no longer me. Perhaps I should talk to Dr. Travis. I think he quit about two years ago but I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to find him, in our last session he said that if I ever needed help I could come to him.