Life is but a Dream... (A Sherlock Fanfiction)

*The Great Game: Part Five*

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Horrid Dream

I take a chance and find myself walking across the threshold of the hospital. The rain outside starts to beat down on the roof, adding into the suspense I had.
"M-Molly?" I called, heading to the lab. I find a small jar, no bigger than my middle finger, filled with little green pills. When I pick it up, immediately do I swallow one, and take three more. I don't know why, but I felt like I should. After all, they were anti-depressants. After moving on from the revolting aftertaste, I keep walking, then hear a crunch under my foot, and look to see my glasses.
"Oh crap!" I exclaim, and crouch down to pick them up. The middle was broken, and the left lens was cracked. For a second I was surprised my shoe didn't do any more damage.

"Aspen? What are you doing here?" I heard a deep voice behind me. I turned around to see Sherlock putting on his coat and scarf.
"Oh- I came to see Molly." I said, hiding the pills and glasses in my jacket pocket.
"Molly went home." Sherlock said, "about ten minutes ago."
"What?" I asked, but I only got an annoyed face from Sherlock, who walked over and took my arm, still walking.
"Well I'll take you with me to see John. The killer gave us a clue. Quite strange is it not?" He asked as we came out.
"Sher-Sherlock!" I exclaimed, feeling his grip slip slowly.
"And we only have three hours left-" he continued. A small clap of thunder sounded as he hailed a cab.
The rain stopped as he went into a cab with me. I could tell he was in a mode where his mind was rotating quicker than the rain had fallen.
"John? Meet me with Lestrade at Monkfords car" He called.
I sat back as I tried to process what had just happened.
* * *
"I told you to go back to the flat." John said when he saw me and Sherlock walk over to him. We were in a sort of parking garage, but I saw as we walked in that it was a Car Pound for the police, so this must've been where this "Monkford's" car was. I also noticed that there was a sort of white plastic covering the walls, creating quite a luminescent lighting.
"Got sidetracked, I suppose." I said as we followed Sherlock and Lestrade to a small car.
"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.
"How much? About a pint." Lestrade said.

"Not 'about'. Exactly a pint." Sherlock corrected, but I didn't see how it mattered. "That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's blood but it's been frozen."
"Frozen?" Lestrade asked. I felt a yawn come out, and looked at my watch. It was almost nine o' clock, and I had to go to school tomorrow. I guess it would've been good to at least pretend I wasn't tired, or they would scorn me or something like that.
"... They provide a very special service. If you have any problem- money troubles, bad marriage, whatever- Janus Cars will help you disappear. Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble- financial, at a guess since he's a banker. Couldn't see a way out. But if he were to vanish- if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the drivers seat..." Sherlock deduced.

"So where is he now?" John asked as Sherlock closed the car door.
"Colombia." he said, looking up from the door. Wow, I mean, dang. 'That man must've been in a web of trouble' I thought.
"Mr. Ewart of Janus Cars had a twenty-thousand peso note in his wallet, and quite a bit of change too." Sherlock began again. "He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly. No one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That and his arm."
"His arm?" Lestrade asked.
"Kept scratching it. Obvious irritating and bleeding. Why? Because he recently had a booster jab. Difficult to tell at that distance," I noticed he had glanced at me at "booster jab" most likely cause I "worked" at the hospital.

"Conclusion: he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Colombia. Mrs. Monkford cashes in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars." He finished.
"Mrs Monkford?" John asked.
"Oh yes she's in on it too." Sherlock said.
In the usual amazement and confusion Sherlock left me in when he finishes something like that, I glanced back at the car, lost in my thoughts. I was thinking of nothing when John patted me on the back.
"I am on fire!" Sherlock announced as I found myself walking alongside John out of the Police Car Pound. Looking back, I saw Lestrade still standing next to the car.
* * *
It was nearly ten-thirty when we got back to the flat. I sat on the couch, feeling my body ache from the days dragging activities, and felt John's arm around me.
"You tired? Go to sleep!" He said, then slowly pushed me down so I laid on the couch. I felt him bring my legs up to the cushions, then he went to Sherlock, who posted something on his computer.
I fell asleep to the phone ringing.
*

I dreamt I was in darkness, like there was no dream, just my eyes staring into my eyelids. Suddenly, a blue rectangle came into the picture, showing me a scene with black lines on the bottom. Above was a clear line to a ceiling, and all around me was cold, like I was in a freezer. I couldn't see my own limbs, nor what was on the ground in front of me, so I looked out the window. Soon after, as the cold started reaching my bone, I noticed a crack in the window, and water started dripping from it. I saw myself hastily try to mend the window, by putting my hand against it. All of a sudden there was a tune in the air, sung by a haunting voice. It didn't take long for me to realise the voice was Jim's. It was only humming, I believe. The words were not audible for me. The air got colder, the crack got bigger, and the humming grew louder. I began to hear it in my own ears and feel the cold in my own body, as if that had too leaked out of my dream. The glass then broke.