The Charlotte Holmes Case (Sherlock Holmes fanfic)

Chapter 11: That Night

To make things more clear for you, here is a flashback on what happened to Sherlock the night he went missing ten years ago. This is from John's perspective BTW.

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Chapter 11: That Night

Johnn was in his study all night when he returned home, just reading Holmes' notes and trying to picture him narrating what he discovered like it was just yesterday. Some of his words were a blur and others John remembered specifically. He missed Sherlock's voice of brilliant nonsence, he missed his marvelous deductions and his witty disguises that made him laugh and shake his head in embaressment.

He sighed. "Why now, of all the things that can make you swoon, why a stupid book?" he chuckled. It's true, he had his violin in which he kept near his cabinets and had collected dust. He kept his pipe inside one of his drawers in his nightstand. But a book? He honestly had no clue.

Then he started to remember. He shook his head trying to forget but the memories flooded his head like a hurricane. He pounded his hand against the desk and burried his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and let it sink in, let the memory tell it's tale. How he wished they went would have went straight home, how he wished they never went out at all thet night. He could only wish.

FLASHBACK

October 15, 1897

We were in Lestrade's office, it was late as usual but time never really seemed to matter to Holmes. I sighed, hoping he would hear me. Of course he wouldn't, I'll just do it again and maybe he will acknowledge it this time. He looks up at me briefly then takes out his watch, looks at it and snaps it shut. I get up and he does the same as I do. I walk over to him and look at his book, it's halfways covered in scribbles and notes. "I seem to have forgotten about the time," he apologizes. "Well, at least we can get some rest now," I state and get my coat, preparing to leave. "On the contrary Watson, I have some unfinished buisness to attend to."

"At nearly eleven?" I question. "At the pub not too far off, you don't need to come, I'm sure the wife will be expecting you home shortly," he teases. "Your's as well, not to mention Charlotte who begged you to stay a while longer for her tea party with Mrs. Wiggles the Stuffed Dog!" I laugh, just the thought of him playing make believe with his three year old daughter is admittingly adorable but hilarious as well.

He huffed and headed out the door. "And Hamish, is he getting along alright?" he questions. I honestly never would have guessed he would ask about my son's well being but reluctantly, I answer. "Quite alright. He seems to be getting along quite well with Charlotte's games about pirates. She does have an active imagination I must admit." (A/N I couldn't resist :) I just had to put in a lil' Piratelock) He smiled, a sincere one. Just the mention of Charlotte's name puts him in higher spirits. We haul a wagon to the pub and arrive there shortly.

"I do have a question for you Holmes," I ask as we enter inside. He order a brandy and whiskey then we sat. "Have you ever thought about Charlotte and her future?" It was a personal question, I must admit, but I was curious to know what he thought. He stared at me as if I asked him a question in Turkish. He took another sip and told me his thoughts in the most concerned tone I have ever heard him say.

"I want Charlotte to do whatever pleases her most. If she wants to grow up and be the queen of England, I will support her, in which by the way she has told me before," we both chuckled. "What if she wants to be like you?" I asked cautiously. He was taken back at first then shook his head.  "As I have said before, I will support her with whatever desicion she makes but this, what I do, is not what I want for her. She can achieve greatness and her mind will be brilliant I can predict, but if I could choose for her, this is not what I want her to be wasting her life on." I nodded in understanding. I had never realized that in my many years of being his companion, he would not let his daughter do the one thing he is pleased with the most.

I had now realised the one thing he was indeed pleased with the most, was the great Charlotte herself. He was looking at an old door at the corner of the room for quite some time I realized. He got up and I followed quickly behind. He looked at the door and then at me. Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.

"Holmes..." I softly said. He looked at me with a look of doubt and a hint of fear. Something is defenitley wrong. "Watson, this is where we part. I have to go on alone from here but I just need you to do me the biggest favor I can ask of you. If anything should go wrong and anything at all, take care of Madeleine and Charlotte for me. Please, I am begging you to take great care of her," he begged. 

"Holmes, why are you telling me this? What's going on?" I ask, fearful of what he might say. "Just please, promise me you won't let anything happen to Charlotte?" he asked. "I won't let anything happen, I promise." I put a reasurring hand on his shoulder. He was trembling but I could tell he was trying to hide his fear. "Whatever happens, just don't let her do anything she will regret in the future and look after her," he said.

These last words he told me, I know I will remember them for the rest of my life, even the way he said it, with sadness, fear, and desperation. "Tell her that her daddy said 'You are always and forever will be, my brilliant little Holmes' please," he looked like he was about to break. I nodded but before I could question further, he smiled held on to my hand that rested on his shoulder for as long as he could, then went inside.

I grabbed a seat nearby and sat beside the door he went into. He didn't come out. The minutes turned to long and tiring hours. "Sir, you need to leave, we're closed," a man said. I looked around and saw the pub was empty and the first hint of light was rising out the window across from me. "I can't leave, my friend is in there," I pointed to the door. "Sir, that door has been locked for two years and is empty, nothing is in there. I highly doubt your friend is in there." He pulled me out of my post, my legs felt sore from sitting too long.

"No, you don't understand, my friend went in there to help solve a case, I have to wait for him to leave!" I resisted. I eventually broke free from his grip and tried to unlock the door. How? Holmes went in there six hours ago and opened that door with ease! I kicked down the door a few times and the bartender was having a fit beside me. Once the door opened, I realized he was right.

Nothing was in there, and I mean NOTHING. "I don't understand..." I looked around the room frantically, for clues, marks, Holmes, ANYTHING! I was eventually kicked out the pub and retreated back to the Yard to tell Lestrade about how Holmes went missing. A search team went back a few hours later reporting nothing about him.

I went to Baker Street to pick Hamish up from the sleep-over he had with Charlotte at Mrs. Hudson's. "Dr. Watson, is daddy with you?" Charlotte asked excitedly walking out the front door to see if he was outside. She was giggling around the entrance, waiting for her father to greet her. She was slightly confused, her face was dissapointed in realizing he wasn't here. She came back asking where he was at. "He's caught up at work at the moment Charlotte, I'm sure he'll be back soon," I lied to the both of us. Part of me wanted to believe what I said was true. Her smile dropped a bit, she shook her head and said goodbye to both me and Hamish.

I looked back to see Charlotte in Holmes' room window, looking out into the streets of London searching and waiting for her daddy to come home. He never did.

END FLASHBACK

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SNIFF SNIFF OMG THAT WAS SO SAAADD well, now you know exactly what happened that night, well what John saw that night. Lemme know what you thought and next update will come soon.

-iam22345