Poison & Wine//A BBC Sherlock fanfic

Now

Now

They sat around a table, ignoring everyone else around them except for the guards whose eyes watched the occupants in the room like hawks. Their hands lying on top of the table, one pair cuffed, three of the four men stared at one another before one of them spoke in French.

"What do you say to this news?" he asked, looking at the man whose hands were cuffed. His eyes, a dark brown in certain lighting, were lowered, his overlong brown hair hanging like a curtain around his face. There was a moment of silence before he replied.

"You saw him?"

"Yes," One of the men nodded. "I had been waiting in the car like you told me to, seeing what she was up to."

"He came out of her house?"

"Yes. It looked like he had stayed the night."

The brown haired man sat up straighter, lifting his eyes to meet his friend's. On the table his hands twitched, making his handcuffs rattle slightly. He swallowed, let out a sigh, before speaking.

"Does he know?" he asked before laughing softly, shaking his head. "Oh, of course he doesn't. If he did he wouldn't be there. Stupid question. And she has not told him, obviously."

The man, his eyes becoming narrowed and cloudy as he stared at his friends and his jaw tensing, curled his hands into fists. His friends leaned forward slightly, one of them looking over their shoulder to watch the guards before returning his gaze to his imprisoned friend.

"What do you want to do?" one man asked, staring at his dark haired friend.

"What I couldn't do before," he replied coolly, his eyes a storm. "I will need your help, though, my friends. I cannot wield the knife from where I am. I need you three to do it for me."

"Of course," the men chorused, nodding their heads. "What do you wish for us to do?"

"First, if you can, inform the man of what Cosette truly is. If you cannot, that is fine. Either way, we must protect this man from making the same mistake I made all those years ago. If we cannot tell him then we will go ahead with the original plan," the brown haired man told them, clasping his hands together. He shook his head in remorse, thinking of the past. "If only I had succeeded. If only I had succeeded then! If I had she would be dead and that man would be free from her monstrous ways."

With an angry growl he stared at his friends, leaning forward and hissing under his breath.

 "You have to do this for me, my friends, my brothers. She is not allowed to walk this earth, she is to be buried beneath it. We cannot rush it, we have to plan it out properly, but she will be dead in a month's time. She must be dead in a month's time. Two years she's been walking free and I want to change that. She must die."

"Of course," his friends said once more, one of the men putting their hand on his shoulder. Their talks died down when a guard approached them, informing the three men that their time was up and they had to leave. They said goodbye to their friend, promising him that the deed would be done, before walking out the door without another word. After being checked and cleared the man in chains was led back to his cell, his eyes downcast the whole time. It wasn't until he was sitting on his bed that he raised his eyes, staring at the picture on the wall opposite him. He swallowed, clenching his hands, staring at those golden eyes. They would haunt him forever.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I want to know."

"Well, you're not going to."

Teddy went into a coughing fit, her body trembling as her lungs squeezed the air out of her. Sherlock helped sit his sister up better as she coughed, rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her. Teddy knew he felt a little uncomfortable doing this so she held up a hand, a wordless signal for him to stop which he did. After she was done coughing Teddy leaned back and stared at Sherlock who was perched on the side of her bed. He had come in and woken her only a few minutes ago with a tray of freshly made eggs and bacon along with a tall glass of juice and two painkillers which she had taken gratefully. He had just finished telling Teddy about his thirst for knowledge on Cosette's past and how he couldn't pick anything up from her. Now he sat there, staring at Teddy and waiting for her to get her breath back before replying.

"What do you mean I'm not going to? I want to."

"Sherly, you asked her, right?" Teddy asked, leaning back against the pillows propped up behind her.

"Yes. Yesterday, in the garden, I asked her. If you hadn't been so out of it I could've told you then-"

"I'm sick, Sherly-"

"Yes, but this is more important at the moment."

"What's important is Mycroft getting back to us about that group, which leads me to this question: Has he gotten in touch?"

"No. He says it'll be a few more days, weeks even, before they resurface," Sherlock replied, momentarily distracted. Soon, though, he was back on the topic of Cosette's past. "Look, I need to know what happened to her. I have to find out what went wrong. Where did those scars come from? Why is she blind? What is it she's not telling me?"

"Maybe she isn't telling you because she doesn't want to," Teddy said, rubbing her head. "Maybe she thinks it's a waste of your time."

"No, no, not this. No, I want to know what happened. I can't deduce it, though. Either she's really trying to hide it from me-on purpose or self-consciously, I don't know- or I've become slack in the science of Deduction," Sherlock muttered, his face going dark for a moment. Teddy frowned, looking down at her hands for a moment. Had Sherlock been looking at her he would've seen her eyes raise up to look at him, her face filled with knowledge and slight hesitation. However, he hadn't so that look soon passed and she snuggled down into her blankets with a sniff.

"Just wait, Sherly. She'll tell you when she's ready, or you'll find out on your own accord," she murmured, closing her eyes. Sherlock stared at his sister, a small frown on his face as he thought about what she had said. Wait? He was never very patient. He didn't think he'd be able to wait for Cosette to tell him. The curiosity was immense! He needed to know soon, as soon as possible.

Keep asking, he thought. Subtly. If you push her too far, then that'll be it. You've hurt her once before, you can't do it again. If she doesn't tell you, then you'll have to take matters into your own hands. The memory box would be a good place to start.

With a slight grimace Sherlock stood up before brushing a few strands of hair off of Teddy's forehead. Without a word he walked out of the room, letting his sister rest and his mind wander.

Miss Cosette Bellamy, what is it that you are hiding?

Author Note: Well, now, it doesn't sound like Cosette is safe at all, what with men plotting to kill her and Sherlock getting closer to finding out about what she's hiding. If anyone has any guesses as to what her secret is, let me know. It'll be interesting to see what everyone thinks. Until next time, my lovelies...

xoxo

~DM