The Other Side - BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 13 - Unsaid Things

Mycroft

Angel's message explaining that she can't communicate with me leaves a lot of questions unanswered, does she still plan to help? I have to ask her, no matter what she said. That was this moring and I still haven't had a reply. Usually she responds as soon as she can.

I can't help but wonder if anything's happened but I try to keep my mind on the task in hand. This struggle goes on for at least half an hour before I'm interuptted by the ring of my phone. I glance at the caller ID, Sherlock, and swiftly decline the call. Now is not the time for a family talk. Only a couple of seconds later he calls, again, and I decline, again. When it happens for a third time I decide that I may as well get it over over with.

"Hello brother dear, what do you want." I ask in the signature, careless voice I talk to him in.

"It's Angel, she's in hospital and it seems like she's been drugged." he whispers.

"Sherlock, why are you whispering?" I ask, usually he talks loudly to capture the attention of as many people as possible.

"I can't be-" He is interuppted by the creak of a door and some muffled speech. "No go away John, keep Jim busy." He snaps.

"Sherlock," I say suspiciously, "who's Jim?" I close my eyes in preparation for the name I know I'm about to hear.

"Moriarty." I sigh in disappointment, because part of me had belived that it might not be him.

"Why, may I ask, are you in a hospital with James Moriarty and an undercover agent who you aren't supposed to be in contact with?" I ask in exasperation.

"A misunderstanding, Mycroft, none of your concern."

"On the contrary. Keep me updated on her status, we'll discuss how this happened at a later date."

"There are some things best left unsaid, Mycroft." Sherlock replies provoking me to promptly hang up.

Jim

What feels like days pass, although in reality it is probably only a couple of hours, and there is no change. Sherlock keeps getting up, walking out and coming back in again and John keeps offering me tea. The monotony does nothing to rid me of the worry gnawing at my insides. I sit in a pea green plastic chair staring at a white wall, the bed Angel lies in is sectioned off from the others in the ward by a blue disposible curtain, not unlike the blanket covering her still body. I tap absent-mindedly on my knee to keep my hands busy. I even ignore the fact that the two men sitting beside me are men I am supposed to hate. I close my eyes in despair, I don't even know what's wrong with her yet.

I hear a groan of pain and my eyes shoot open, "Angel!" I exclaim before I can stop myself. I am met with another groan. She stirs, rubbing her eyes halfheartedly. Slowly, unsurely, she opens her eyes, wincing at the harsh light above her. I lean forward and ask tentatively, "Angel, are you okay?" she looks at me as if she hadn't noticed me before, and perhaps she hadn't. "It's me, Jim." I try, internally pleading for a response. Her eyes narrow and her forehead crinkles in confusion.

"John?" she asks. The smile on my face falters a little and I repeat myself.

"It's me, Jim." She shakes her head, frowning a little.

"But, where's John?" I turn around to where he had been sat, only to find that both him and Sherlock have vanished.

"He's not here Angie, but it's okay because I am." I say reassure her, trying my best to put on an understanding smile. She buries her face in her hands and begins to sob.

"But I want John. Where's John Watson?" She states, like a child throwing a tantrum. I sigh in disappointment, part of me had believed that it wasn't him.

From beyond the curtain I hear the approaching voices of Sherlock and John, it appears as if Angel does too because she makes a move to get up. I quickly ease her back into bed, not wanting her to cause anymore damage than is already done.With a rustle of curtain John and Sherlock emerge armed with steaming cups of tea.

"John!" Squeals Angel, her face lighting up with excitement. His eyes widen in surpise.

"Angel, you're awake!" He pushes his tea into Sherlock's hand, disregarding his exclamation as the hot drink spills over his hand, leaving it red and blotchy. Rushing forward in a moment of glee he binds his arms around her in an embrace which speaks volumes.

A giggle escapes Angels lips, and she starts to sing.

"We love you Johny, we do. We love you Johny, we do. We love you Johny, we do. I don't know the rest of the words."

Angel

As I finish singing my little song my head clears. I realise in a flash who else is in the room, Jim. I disentangle myself from John and try to resist the urge to bang my head repeatedly. You did it again Angel, why must you always be so stupid? Averting my eyes from Sherlock, who I know is feeling pleased that he isn't the only one to have done something so idiotic today I lean forward to Jim. And tentatively wrap my arms around his shoulders. I whisper into his ear, hoping to redeem myself.

"We love you Jimmy, we do. We love you Jimmy, we do. We love you Jimmy, we do." I feel his face next to mine break into at least half of a smile.

"Oh, Angel we love you." He finishes. We break apart and grin like two kids who just pranked their teacher.

"Ahem. Do I get a song?" says Sherlock, an amused look on his face.

"No, I don't think so. You're a detective, I don't like detectives. I retort, causing Jim to snort although he doesn't realise the irony of it for I am - or at least was - a detective myself. Jim and I carry on with our harmless banter for a while more before my eyes start to droop, my mind shutting down once again. Only John seems to notice, he lowers my head onto the pillow and murmurs something about me needing sleep, he already sounds distant. I close my eyes and fall into the welcoming arms of slumber.