act one; six

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Clara wasn't sure what drove her to go to the hospital, but there she was, sitting in silence next to Watson.

Only three days had passed since Holmes had been admitted, and so far nothing in his condition had changed, or at least that's the impression Clara was getting from Watson. The doctor was prattling on and on about— something, Clara couldn't understand a word of it, but there was a hint of hope beneath Watson's otherwise worried features. Clara hoped that meant Holmes would be okay.

She didn't know what James would do, if Holmes died. (She didn't want to find out).

(Mostly).

Clara took out her phone. YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT, she sent. PHILIP BLAMES ME FOR DONOVAN, AND HOLMES IS IN THE HOSPITAL. THERE WERE OTHER WAYS TO GET SEBASTIAN OUT.

She waited a moment.

Her phone buzzed.

HOW IS HE DOING? the text read.

Clara frowned, and sent back, I DON'T KNOW MEDICAL JARGON.

THAT'S NO EXCUSE.

She rolled her eyes. What was she supposed to do? Go to medical school for years, and then build a time machine to come back to this very moment, so Clara could understand the doctor? IT IS NOW.

Clara turned to Watson anyway. "How is he doing?" she asked.

He looked at her, for a long moment, before sighing. "There's a good chance of him pulling through with no consequences," Watson told her. "There's also a chance that his brain — his memory — will be affected from the explosion. If he survives at all, that is, although the doctors think he will."

"He could lose the things that make him special," said Clara. She wouldn't care, if he did. If anything, Clara would be ecstatic. But James? He would be furious if he lost Holmes, if the game was over. There was no telling how much damage he would cause, if that happened.

One thing, however, was for certain—

If Holmes stopped being special, stopped being a genius, then James Moriarty would burn London to the ground.

"I think that'll ruin him, Clara," said Watson. "His intellect is the only thing that keeps him going, and if he's not as smart as he once was— well. Sherlock will be devastated."

She went back to her phone.

THERE IS A HIGH POSSIBILITY OF BRAIN DAMAGE, Clara told James. IF HE SURVIVES, HE MIGHT NOT BE AS SMART AS HE ONCE WAS. YOU MIGHT WANT TO START LOOKING FOR A NEW ADVERSARY.

"I don't even know if he's going to survive, though, Clara. I mean, what if he doesn't? It'll be because of Moriarty, and Moran, and—" Watson froze.

Clara looked away. "And me."

"No. No, that's not what I was going to say," he lied. "Sherlock brought him into the building, and maybe that was made easier because you sent Moran a message, but eventually he would have found him anyways, and everything would have worked out the same. I don't blame you."

"Philip does," she told him, and then gestured towards her bruised face. "Probably blames me more than anyone else, considering this."

"Your brother did that to you?" asked Watson, incredulous. "I know he's a bit — well, you know — but..."

"He was already upset, and I provoked him," Clara said. "It's not okay, him doing this, but I probably would have reacted the same way." Clara looked away, fiddled with her fingers. She was still extremely worried about how James would react to everything. Holmes was at a standstill, now, but once he started moving — once he got better, or got worse — then James would finally react to Holmes' condition.

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