SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

game plan

“What are we going to do when we get to the hospital? What’s the plan?” Simon asked.

“We’re going to get John. Heather is going to bandage me up, and then we’re out,” Sherlock replied, glancing at his wound. His whole hand was a dark shade of red and his entire front of his shirt was soaked.

“That simple?”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Simon shook his head. He laughed and looked over at Sherlock, “No, sir, I don’t. But I have a feeling it’ll elaborate as we go.”

Sherlock smirked, not because Simon’s response was funny, but out of politeness. “Simon.”

“Yes?”

“Define the word, ‘loyalty.’”

Simon blew his cheeks. “It means staying beside someone no matter what. Keeping your word whether they’re in the same room or not.”

“How long have you had that extra mobile?”

“What do you mean?” Simon looked down at his pant’s leg and then looked up at Sherlock. Gritting his teeth, he said in a defensive tone, “I know what you’re thinking. But if I let anyone know a phone was down there, how else would I know where everyone was?”

“You had an extra phone, yet you never bothered to phone for more help? Did Lestrade come to mind?”

“He’s watching Mrs. Hudson and Elise.”

“What about John?”

“Sherlock, how could I? If I phoned, I would’ve given my location away.”

“Did you know Charlie was weak in the tunnel?”

Scrunching his face up in disbelief of the conversation taking place, Simon shouted, “What are you talking about?”

“If you were aware that Charlie was going disappear, why did you not give the phone to him? You know, in case he’s alive?”

“Are you saying I purposely drowned Charlie?”

“I didn’t say, ‘drowned,’ did I?” Sherlock pressed.

“Don’t twist my words. I know what you’re on about, and I’m not working for Andrew Brooklyn. Charlie is, or was, my best mate. He hired me for the job and I took it because I respected your work. If we’re going to argue if I’m working for you or Andrew, then it’s a waste of time. I work for you, John, Lestrade, and whoever else needs to get into that safe. I’d respect very much if you trusted me, Sherlock. What do I need to prove I’m clean?”

Sherlock remained silent. It felt like memories were the only way to escape the pain he was in. Closing his eyes, he let his mind slip back to the fond adventures he and John had shared.

Sherlock tip-toed up the stairs, kneeling once or twice to observe things he hadn’t seen while he was away. He swiped a finger over the imprint of a shoe. “Oh good, Alana made it.” He stood up, passing his hand over the banister, picking up more information that way as well.  As he grew closer to John’s flat, he heard his methodical voice rambling on about everything he was bringing for his trip.

Smirking, Sherlock went up to the door and opened it slowly. He first caught sight of Alana, and before she broke out into surprise, he held a finger to his lips and motioned to John.

Containing her excitement, Alana remained quiet and gestured Sherlock to come in.

“Can you hand me that, Alana?” John asked, as he stared down at his suitcase. “I think if I could slip that there, my suitcase won’t be damaged if some bloke crushes it with his suitcase.”