The Devil Within

Part One

Sherlock basked in the silence of his flat, greeting the lack of sound as if it were an old friend. As he was the sort who didn't have many (if any) old friends, the noiseless enviroment was easily explained. Nevertheless, he'd been unable to have such peace and quiet around for quite a while. In his current situation, he'd been wanting silence more than ever.

Moriarty had returned, somehow and somewhere. He'd sent out a message to the world that he was returning, but aside from his sneaky plans very little had pointed to where he was and what he was up to. The only thing Sherlock could figure out simply from standing about and trying to decipher the limited clues was that he was building up to something great.

There was nothing Moriarty loved more than a melodramatic story, and he wanted Sherlock to be a part of it. The fact of the matter was that he hadn't been invited in to the story.

Yet.

Once Moriarty decided to rope Sherlock in, it would be too late to make everything clean and simple as he wanted it to be. Sherlock simply had to outthink him in every way (and being the one and only consulting detective, he was sure he could do it). That was the precise reason he required silence. To save his life and the lives of the people around him, he needed silence.

When the phone began to ring, Sherlock wished he'd had a gun settled in his hand so that he could fire a single bullet and cease its noise. Unfortunately, John had confiscated his bullets in order to avoid a situation where things could turn ill for him, or his wife, or his incoming baby. A sigh pushing through his lips, Sherlock walked over to the phone.

The caller ID gave very little information - the only thing that could be gleaned was that it was from a hospital somewhere within America. But this alone was enough to give Sherlock a decent idea of who was calling him.

"What have you managed to do to get yourself in the hospital, Will?" Sherlock asked, the moment the call pulled through.

"Sherlock..." Will replied. It was clear, even over the phone, that something major had shifted within him. His voice was hoarse and raspy, missing the tone that made it sound as if he were alive and making his way throughout life. Very simply, it was the voice of a man who had been put through the most absolute hell and then dragged through once again.

"I suppose you wouldn't be calling me unless you had a clear reason for it," Sherlock continued, unfazed by his older brother's behaviour. "You haven't called me at all in the past months, and I believe something must've changed immensely in order for you to call me now. However, I think I have a small idea - although, there is only so much you can get from Tattle Crime."

"Don't listen to what they say," Will immediately barked. "There is very little truth to be seperated out from the lies, it's not worth it to-"

"I never said I believed any of it, but it does seem to have a knack for getting some of the details correct. Now, however, I want to hear your side of the story."

Will heaved out a dry laugh on the other side of the phone line. Sherlock had never heard such a pitiful laugh - no matter how hard he might try, it would never seem real. He was simply going through far too much misery for such a thing to occur.

"Is that the only reason why you picked up the phone?" Will asked. "You know that I do have something to ask, and yet you just want to ask your own questions?"

"I like to have my own information," Sherlock replied. 'Besides, I believe it is brotherly duty to take your calls, especially after the little I've been able to glean from Tattle Crime has pointed me to something terrible occurring, something that ended up with you in the hospital..."

"I...I don't want to talk about it," Will stuttered out. But he spoke too quickly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could fully consider them. No, he did want to talk about his side of the story. No one had cared to listen, and though it seemed bizarre to think Sherlock would shut his mouth and open his ears it seemed to be turning out correctly.