Mrs. Holmes [Book III]

Quarry

Sherlock readjusted his scarf and blew out a misty white cloud, "Cold, John?"

The doctor grunted in response, "Shut up."

They were currently walking around London, chasing clues from Mycroft and Niles. John felt particularly cranky since Sherlock and stolen into his house and roused him from possibly hibernating through the rest of the frigid winter. He had been plotting his vengeance all day. Maybe I'll just grow back the moustache. At the moment, the idea was deliciously tempting. As was leaving Sherlock and grabbing some coffee.

But he didn't; instead keeping pace with his long legged friend as they trekked across the city. John was fully aware that Susanna's well being, and that of the child, depended on how soon they could bring down whomever was plotting against her and her family. By extension, so did Sherlock's. John knew that he'd come a long way- but coping with loss had never been in the detective's DNA. He stretched himself thin keeping everyone he cared for safe because he couldn't handle losing them.

The prime example of this was when he faked his suicide to satisfy Moriarty. He still hadn't told John exactly what happened but Susanna had coaxed it out and told John only that Moriarty had given him no alternative once he blasted his brain out, so he faked his death to save his three friends from the same fate. Another example was Mary's sacrifice. It had sent Sherlock to therapy, and then he went off the rails on drugs when he could've lost John because of it and needed her help to bring him back.

Sherlock could not cope with losing the people he let into his circle. John did not want to see what would happen if Sherlock ultimately did lose Susanna. But he had a feeling that it might very well irreparably destroy the man.

And there was also the baby, whom Sherlock was utterly devoted to. There was no question he loved and wanted the child. John had a gut feeling that losing the child would break him- not as bad as Susanna- but still might send him over the edge.

John shuddered to think what would happen if both were taken from Sherlock. Which was why he trudged on heartily through the wicked weather. He didn't want Sherlock to endure the soul-wrenching pain of losing his wife and child, for whom he'd worked hard to deserve.

Rosie would also lose her mother figure and more than likely the uncle she idolized. John would lose the woman who had earned his utmost respect and even his love, and his best friend, whom he loved and had torn himself apart over too many times.

Now that he pondered it, Susanna's death would claw a gaping hole in the hearts of almost everyone around her. But Sherlock would probably never heal. Especially now that the stakes involved the highly anticipated baby.

But John dared to think that if Susanna died but the baby survived, Sherlock would eventually pull through.

"Careful, John," He was ripped from his thoughts as Sherlock tugged him around a lamp post before he face planted into it, "Has the cold numbed your brain too?"

"Just got to thinking, Sherlock."

"Oh? About what? Not about the weather I hope."

John was about to reply when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a stealthy figure peeping out of an alley across the street. A scarf and dark glasses obscured their features, although they appeared to be masculine. As soon as John turned his head to get a better look, he noticed that the figure had a smartphone in hand too. Taking pictures. When they realized John had seen them they quickly popped back into the alley, "Sherlock, over there!"

"What?!" John had already taken off running. Sherlock didn't wait to follow. They dodged a taxi and John led the way to the alley. They could then see their quarry and that's where Sherlock took the lead back. He passed John and they gained on the stalker.

Luck seemed to be on their side, and so did the weather, because within a couple of minutes their quarry slipped and wiped out on a sheet of black ice. Sherlock reached them first and knocked their phone from their hands, then lifted them off the ground and pinned them against the dumpster nearby. The sound ricocheted and John found himself staring in awe at how strong Sherlock was- especially now that he was taking better care of himself, "John, the phone."

"Yes." John returned to the moment and retrieved the mobile. Meanwhile, Sherlock quickly tore off their quarry's scarf and glasses, revealing a lean, olive skinned man with dark eyes, black shaggy hair and razor stubble.

"What were you doing following us!?" Sherlock interrogated. When the man didn't respond he threw him back up against the dumpster, harder than before, "Your girlfriend is cheating on you with three people and your employer doesn't plan on actually paying you for your troubles."

As Sherlock continued to deduce and interrogate their suspect, John unlocked the phone and opened the photo gallery. Sure enough there were several photos of him and Sherlock walking around London that morning. But as he scrolled he felt a lump form in his throat.

Pictures going back to October- most of them of Thomas and Susanna. Sherlock featured quite a bit, as did John, Rosie, and Missus Hudson by association. A few of Niles, Paul and Marigold as well. John pursed his lips and inhaled, "Sherlock. This has been going on for a while."

"Elaborate?"

"... October."

Finally their quarry spoke, "I only wanted the money-"

"Shut up! I already deduced that," Sherlock replied darkly, "So then, who is your employer?"

"Well-"

"WHO?!"

"I-"

BANG!!

A single bullet sailed through the air and pierced directly through the man's skull. Sherlock dropped him and both he and John took out their guns, scouting the perimeter for the undoubted sniper. Sherlock normally would have said something about the game being on, but Susanna's words echoed in his mind.

They're not going to play games with you... They don't care...

"The employer doesn't want their mission jeopardized by loose tongues. Has backup plans to ensure they won't get caught. He wasn't significant enough to keep alive or even pay." Sherlock deduced.

"So we're dealing with a psychopath, then?"

"Perhaps, but not a genius," Came the reply, "This is a businessman. Plan and execute, cut losses, and take any chance to get ahead."

"So like Magnussen or Culverton Smith?"

"No. Magnussen was a genius and the king of blackmail. He ran the eastern world. Revenge wasn't quite his game. Culverton Smith murdered on the side. He was the only one involved. This is a complex operation and the employer is driven to fulfill their purpose, John. It's much more similar to Brent Hatfield..," Sherlock sighed, "Susanna was right."

Thank you for reading! Stay tuned!!