Sherlock Holmes- A Study in Blood

Chapter 24

"When the unthinkable happens, the lighthouse is hope. Once we choose hope, everything is possible." ~Christopher Reeve

"Now, now. No tears, my darling," Holmes said, lifting Mary into his arms and kissing each cheek. "I promise I will be back in time to kiss you goodnight. I may even be enticed to play you a lullaby, hmm? How about that?"

Mary nodded emphatically before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You be a good girl for Nanny, alright? There's our princess." He bopped her nose and set her back on her feet. He then turned to Mrs. Hudson. The older woman gave him a small smile.

"We'll be fine. It's not the first time I've looked after our dear Mary, you know. She's a sight easier to care for than you are, I don't mind saying."

"Touchy, touchy," Holmes smirked, adjusting his disguise one last time. In truth, he was loathe to leave their Baker Street home, but the lead he had found was too strong to ignore and too important to send Lestrade to chase down. He'd been informed by his Irregulars of the whereabouts of the man who had sold Watson the sinister tobacco. He hoped, with the right amount of bribery, the man might be enticed to disclose Moriarty's most recent location.

Holmes knelt and took Mary's hand in his, still not quite able to tear himself away. "I'll see you tonight, dear one. And, if you are asleep when I return, I will come in and give you a kiss. I promise."

She nodded and he kissed her hand to seal his vow. And then, the great detective took his leave.

~*~*~

Having brought a tray of breakfast for Watson, Simza returned to find the doctor standing over his bedside table, carving into the sausage and egg as though performing surgery. She stood watching in alarmed fascination before he caught sight of her. Wild was the only word that came to mind when she saw his eyes. "Nurse," he snapped, "clear the area please. I cannot work with these incompetent imbeciles breathing down my neck and watching my every move."

He didn't wait for her reply before he began shouting toward the ceiling and corners of the room where the imagined surveyors looked on. "Is this not good enough for you? Have I been found lacking before the great masters of medicine? This is absurd! Why am I wasting my time being your trained monkey in here while there are men on the front dying each minute that I fool around in here?"

Simza watched as he paced the room and shouted to the rafters like a madman. She was glad Mrs. Hudson had taken Mary down the stairs to her own rooms so the little girl wouldn't risk bearing witness to this truly heartbreaking scene. The poor thing had seen enough already.

In his fit of rage, Watson over turned the breakfast table, the dissected but uneaten food splattering along the wall and the plate and teacup shattering on the floor. "Get out!" he screamed at her. She didn't move except to duck when a rather large book came hurtling toward her. "Get out! Leave me be!"

It was only when he picked up the porcelain pitcher from the washbasin that she ducked out of the room, slamming the door shut just in time for the pitcher to crash into a hundred pieces against the wood. She stayed there, her ear pressed to the door as the fit continued. There were loud thuds, more shattering, and a continuous stream of curses over it all.

When things at last went still, she dared to open the door. She went slowly so as not to frighten him further. The scene she was met with made her heart ache. The doctor sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest and his head buried in the crook of his arms. The room was its own realm of chaos, but Simza looked past it all and strode over to the broken man, kneeling before him and ever so gently taking his arms away. When he looked up at her this time, his stormy blue eyes were filled with tears. She tenderly cupped her hand against his cheek, wiping the few tears away as they fell. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his forehead, letting them linger. A trembling sigh fell from Watson's own lips.