The Other Side - BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 28 - Waiting

Jim
They arrive at Baker Street shortly later. A group of doctors and surgeons greet them with a stretcher. Quickly and systematically they transfer Angel onto a stretcher and up the narrow stairs of 221B where the makeshift operation table comandeered by Mycroft is waiting for them. Sherlock and Toni are exiled to Mrs Hudson's flat, whilst John was allowed to stay - being a trained doctor. 

I turn my screen off, not wanting to witness Angel be cut open. I know that I can't let my feelings cloud my judgment, but I can't carry out my revenge while she is unconscious and dying. I must let the doctors do their work. When she is stable, and only then, shall I carry out her disposal. In my books, betrayal means death. This is betrayal on a scale I have never before experienced and therefore I can not excuse her.

It phsically hurts me to think about life without Angel but it is quite clear to me that she can easily deal with life without me - it was all a lie. I suppose it serves me right; I always knew that feelings were dangerous. As Sherlock used to say 'Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side'. This is my confirmation.

I put on my best Westwood suit in preparation and tuck a handgun into my breast pocket. All around me are the souvenirs of Angel's stay with me. The laptop on which we created Rich Brook, the camera we used for our photo shoot as Mr and Mrs Brook, the sofa we slept on that wonderful, wonderful night. But then I begin to see the signs I should have seen before. The day that the security went down, the day when John and Sherlock broke in, and now this terrible, terrible day.

So murder it is. I can't let sentiment win, she has to die. In fact, even more reason for her to die. I always try to eliminate my weaknesses; that's all she is - a weakness. A little voice in the back of my head reminds me what pain feels like but I silence it with a frustrated growl.

Mycroft
My men have now located Moriarty, who doesn't seem to be doing to well. I can't say that I feel particularly sorry for him, as if it weren't for him Angel would not be in the process of dying. They keep a close eye on him through strategically placed cameras inside the house. I would point out that they aren't always on, I do respect his privacy. Some things are left unseen.

His obvious distress serves to humanise him. Something I did not realise was possible. His usual mask has been totally torn away and his face is contorted into an extremely pained expression. Moriarty's security is on high alert, so it would be pointless to try and arrest him now. That would be ideal, now that the Angel's cover has been blown and the operation is as good as finished. He's more likely that usual to do something rash and, judging by the gun in his pocket, is planning to do just that.

I've upgraded the security at Baker Street to priority, despite my realisation that it was probably about the worst place I could have sent them. An old warehouse would have been surely better. But now the damage is done and I've got the job of minimalising the casualties. My operation, my responsibilty. 

It's times like these when I find myself almost wishing that I was one of those goldfish that I so despise, just so that I could have a moment of rest. 

Moriarty, however, does not do waiting. He is on the move.