“SHERLOCK,” John screamed, it was a haunting sound that tore through Sherlock’s mind and then his heart for it was the same anguished cry that John had yelled out just before Sherlock had jumped…jumped off the roof of St. Bart’s and then against all laws of physics, the space between John and Sherlock disappeared in an instant leaving them both standing face to face so that if either of them had moved a centimeter their noses would have been touching. Sherlock stood so still that Redbeard grew impatient and nudged his head underneath Sherlock’s hand for a pat. Smiling Sherlock knelt down and indulged Redbeard and then stood up, gazing into John’s eyes with a silent farewell.
John shook his head in denial, “No, nope, Sherlock don’t do this to me.” John stuttered as he vehemently shook his head again.
Sherlock swallowed and spoke so softly that John could barely hear him, “John, do you know what it’s like to be at total peace? John, it’s…it’s calming for the mind is quiet; there is no speculation, no unworthiness, no degradation, no self-loathing, no…no loneliness, no longing for another’s touch.”
John bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling, “Sherlock…Sherlock, stop this right now, give me your hand and get your ass on the train, either we both go or we both stay, the choice is yours.”
A look of irritation played across Sherlock’s features as he said, “John, that’s not fair.”
John crossed his arms and tried to ignore the train whistle in the background, “All’s fair in love and war, Sherlock.”
Sherlock’s eyes seemed as if they were dissolving into pools of stagnant water as he looked at John, “So, John is this love or war?”
John felt dizzy and confused; however he answered without hesitation, “Both, Sherlock…both. Now take my hand, please…please.”
Sherlock looked at Redbeard and then knelt down, wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck, “I’ve got to go old boy, but it’s not forever for when it’s time you and I shall meet again.” Sherlock turned around to spare one backward glance at Redbeard and then took John’s hand. Hand in hand Sherlock and John ran, ran to the station, and as they jumped aboard the train, everything began to fade until all was black. The last sound Sherlock heard was Redbeard barking.
“Heavy, I feel heavy-burdened,” Sherlock thought as he struggled to acclimate himself. Then like a bird of prey that suddenly comes to life after it spots a mouse running for cover, Sherlock’s eyes snapped open. John lay next to him, his head resting on Sherlock’s chest right above his heart and Mycroft lay on the other side of John fast asleep. Sherlock sighed for they were back at 221b Baker Street and even though he should have been happy to be home, Sherlock wasn’t for he was no longer a 1950’s carefree girl, he was no longer a Pirate King with Redbeard, he was a man, a flawed being. “It is it is a glorious thing to be a Pirate King,” Sherlock mumbled.
John rubbed his eyes and looked over at Sherlock, “What?”
A soft tap drew their attention to the door as Mrs. Hudson poked her head around the corner, “Boys, you must have made a night of it. Now, come on get up for even though I’m not your housekeeper, I’ve made some extra scones and pot of tea is on the stove.”
John blinked after she left and looked over at a sleepy Mycroft, “What do you think happened? I mean Mrs. Hudson doesn’t seem to know that we’ve been missing for months.”
Mycroft shrugged as he looked over at Sherlock, “Well, brother mine what is your theory?”
Sherlock was about to open his mouth to reply when John interrupted him, “I know it must be like Narnia, you know where the children go into the wardrobe, they grow up to be Kings and Queens in Narnia, and then they stumble back into the wardrobe becoming children in England once more.”
Sherlock sighed as he looked over at John, “John, Narnia is a fictional place, it’s not reeeal.”
John glared over at Sherlock, “I know that Narnia is a fictional place.”
Sherlock looked bored, “Well, no matter John I hardly think that your suppositions on the space time continuum are valid.”
John sat up, looked at Mycroft and then back at Sherlock, “Well, at least I know the bloody earth goes around the sun.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes heavenward, “Who cares about the boring sun.”
John swung his legs off the bed and began to pace, “Well, the sun may be boring, but is valid and whatever did you mean it is it is a glorious thing to be a Pirate King?”
Sherlock avoided John’s eyes as he sadly looked down at the ground, “I have no idea what you are talking about John.”
***
Moriarty clenched and unclenched his fist as he paced around the dark place he called home. “Damn, Sherlock, damn John, I will get them yet. I will transmute them again and this time, I’ll do it right, I’ll make sure that they don’t know one another, and they will be on opposing sides. The Civil War in America, perhaps? No, no, the Titanic right before it sinks, no, no, no Wars, no Nazi’s, no…”,and then Moriarty smiled an evil smile. “I’ve got it, Russia, Imperial Russia before the Czar fell, Sherlock and Mycroft shall be Romanovs and John, dear sweet John will be a revolutionary, and I…I shall be the destructive force which takes them. I shall be the East Wind for I will be Rasputin.”
