by Janina Woods
I wanted to scream, but my battered throat didn’t produce any sound. In that moment Victoria picked up the cultist, threw him from the pedestal in a feat of adrenaline fueled, inhuman strength and launched herself towards Moriarty, but it was too late. The blade was already moving down.
My world went black.
A single gunshot sounded loudly over the wind. I saw Sherlock’s body splashed with blood and then the knife untainted at his feet. Moriarty lay on the ground, wounded by a shot to the shoulder. I wasn’t taking any chances now, summoned all of my strength and launched myself at the body of the professor. With a fluid motion I grabbed the ceremonial knife and pushed it deep between his ribs, into his heart. Underneath me I felt him struggle and gurgle, but it was over within seconds.
Just like that, the storm faded, and the sand in the air fell to the ground like a rain shower, as if the wind had simply been switched off. It left everything in an eerie silence, now bathed in the silvery light of the moon. After the strange darkness, it felt as bright as daylight, in that magical, time-stopping way only the full moon can achieve.
In the deafening silence of the storm’s aftermath, I recognised the sound of metal, hitting the stone floor. With great effort, I peeled my eyes from Sherlock and looked around to find the origin of the noise. On the top of the stairs, barely standing upright, clothes in rags and blood running down her body, stood Elizabeth Moran, panting heavily, the gun she had used to shoot Moriarty at her feet. She had her eyes trained unwaveringly on the figure of the professor on the floor. No one dared to move, as if the spell could somehow be broken, but then Elizabeth collapsed while exhaling a shaky breath and just like that, we were back in reality.
“Sherlock!“ I shouted brokenly, as my throat was still hurt. I coughed heavily. “Sherlock, are you alright?”
Watson reached him before me and removed his friend’s restraints. Victoria simply collapsed at his feet, all energy drained. I managed to stand up and walk over to them on shaky legs. Sherlock fell into the doctor’s arms, completely limp and exhausted. I took the cloak from Watson’s shoulders to spread it out on the floor and we carefully placed my brother on top of it. Even this simple action made him groan and grimace in pain.
“Congratulations, Mycroft,” was the first thing I heard him say after opening his eyes again. “Victoria is a good match for you.”
“Sherlock, I swear I’ll kill you with my own two hands.”
I leaned down and put both arms around my little brother, letting him wrap his bloodied limbs around myself in turn. We remained like that for a long while, while tears formed in my eyes from sheer relief and exhaustion. As we finally separated, Sherlock’s eyes had already taken on their usual, mischievous spark.
I knew there and then that everything would be just fine.
Epilogue
A gentle breeze brushed my cheek and woke me from the light slumber I had drifted off to in the late afternoon. The sun was still in the sky and bathed the room in a golden glow. I watched the dust motes dance in the air over my head, while my brain slowly woke up. Everything felt sluggish, in a way only a nap in the middle of the day can leave you disoriented and tired... which is ironic, because you were trying to achieve the complete opposite. The wind brought the smell of dinner up to the third floor. I smelled spicy tomato sauce - not surprising given my current location.
“Hungry?” Gregorio asked from the doorway.
“You’re only asking because you’re hungry,” I chuckled.
“True,” he shrugged and walked over to the bed, dropped into the sheets beside me.
I rolled over and pressed a kiss to the Italian man’s lips.
“There’s a letter for you,” Gregorio held up a piece of paper.
“Only one person knows where I am. Give me a minute, please?”
“Fine,” he answered. “But only if you come back here afterwards.”
I smiled at him and rose from the bed. My head was a bit woozy, but I made my way to the window and opened the letter under the warm rays of the early summer sun. It was one of Victoria’s briefings, which she continued to send even though I never answered. Sherlock was fully recovered on his way back to London. I had expected the news to arrive weeks ago. Maybe he had decided to stick around for a while.
After the ordeal in Egypt, we had to remain in Alexandria during our trial. In the end, Victoria had been suspended from the Service for two months, and her status of branch leader had been stripped from her for the time being. I had been suspended for an entire year, but there was no rank they could take from me. We reached Rome soon after, where the trio had built themselves a nest in Victoria’s home faster than you could say Greek Interpreter. It was endearing, in a way, but I didn’t feel like being a part of it. No, I had a different respite in mind and he was lying on the bed behind me.
“Anything... bad?” Gregorio asked then, as I took my time to digest the information.
“News about my brother,” I answered and sighed. “And a request for me to return to work early. I am to report to Munich within a fortnight.”
“So, are you leaving?”
“Eventually. But for now, I have other things in mind...”
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