fossilised | For John Watson

For John Watson

[Sherlock is still finding pieces of the melted laptop in the carpet.

It had actually been quite an ingenious booby trap to be devised by a fourteen year old boy with only household chemicals to work with but, as Sherlock surmised, rather overkill to keep his mother from finding his extensive porn collection. Not one of their more illustrious cases, but it had been quite entertaining to watch both the boy and mother's faces as he revealed that he did know the how and why. He lost interest after the mother started shouting and John started shouting and the whole thing turned tedious.

He rather thinks John won't actually be doing a full write-up of this one on his blog.

It's been two days since their last case and he's beginning to get more than a little antsy. Lestrade has sent him nothing, just a boring hit and run that he refused to even leave the flat for, and nobody interesting has appeared through the blog. Said blog he is currently scrolling through on John's laptop, having borrowed it again.

He did ask, it's not his fault John hadn't been in the room at the time.]

Bored, John.

[He doesn't even know if his flatmate is even in, but that's hardly a necessity for him to actually speak to John. Frustrated, he throws the laptop across the room to hit the wall, where it summarily breaks. Which is where he can be found whenever John appears, sulking amidst pieces of laptop, both from the melted one of their last case and John's poor broken one.]

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[His pen does pause for a moment in his scribbling, a minor frown at his forehead. He doesn't particularly want to get Mycroft more involved, but he has a hunch that his brother knows more about Moriarty than he's been letting on.]

There are a few things I can try.

[And something that would definitely work, but he'd rather not stoop to that.]

I suppose I could always tattle to Mummy.

[Is that a joke? Is it not? Hard to tell.]

[John just assumes it's a joke. Although, based on that exchange between the brothers after the incident with Hart...]

If you need me to rough him up for you as an option... I'm really gonna need you to take care of my back, mate. Might be a minor infection. [Very minor. He doesn't need to check himself into hospital again. He'll be fine. Probably.]

Have you heard anything from Lestrade about what they found in the Underground?

No.

[It's a short and almost terse answer. Hearing nothing isn't a good thing, as far as he's concerned, not in a situation like this. It more than likely means that Lestrade has found something he doesn't want them to know about.

He gestures to the bathroom, inviting John to follow him so that he can fetch the tiny amount of medical supplies they have and get cleaned up.]

Most likely he's just sulking about us continuing to disobey his tedious orders.

[Or not, but there's no need to worry John overly much.]

[John follows along and will sit himself down on the toilet and direct Sherlock on getting him patched up as best they can. It's likely obvious for the other man from the way the wounds are shaded to pink and red that it's certainly infected.]

He doesn't seem like the sort to sulk, Sherlock. I'll give him a call.

[He puts it on speaker phone before dialing. This is probably going to involve some being ranted at, but if it's in service of finding out what's happened to Molly, so be it.]

Maybe let me do the talking, Sherlock? You can talk to Mycroft.

[Because John's had just about enough of the insufferable arse to last a lifetime. Nothing like the elder brother to make him appreciate Sherlock all the more.]

[Despite it being his idea to go to Mycroft in the first place, Sherlock's mood still soured at the mention of his big brother. If there were any other way, he would do it. Mycroft was sure to crow and hold this over him for the rest of their lives as proof that his meddling was needed.

Perhaps he would delay the inevitable by making sure John got some treatment for this infection before it became more of a liability than it already was.

The phone rang for almost a full minute before it was answered, Lestrade's voice booming out into the bathroom, brusque and clipped.]

If you're calling to tell me that you've got into another bloody mess, you can hang up now.

For once, it's not that. More lying low and checking up on the other messes. Have you found Molly or any of the passengers from the train, yet? There was a man who was very injured when I stepped out onto the rails.

[Wait. How much had Sherlock told Lestrade?]

Uh... and I guess... any chance you've been looking for a bomb around the city? He pretended like there was one down in the tunnels, but nothing was actually there. At least not where he said it was.

[John might hear a soft 'thunk' and some muffled swearing, as if someone has put their phone down and then stepped away to vent some anger. In a minute or two, Lestrade reappears on the line, voice very deliberately calm.]

Right. Fine. Tell me about this bomb.

[No, Sherlock did not tell him about any bomb.]

We can talk about the rest after.

[John glances over his shoulder and up at Sherlock disapprovingly.]

I dunno much about it. He claimed it was rigged to an abandoned carriage I was trapped in with him. Pressure trigger. There was a briefcase in the carriage that had a code we supposedly needed to disarm it. He gave us, uh... some kind of clue. Sherlock looked into it, but it didn't make much sense.

I assume you found Caroline's body down there? She was dead in the carriage, sitting with Jim when I got there.

[Sherlock shrugs, not particularly repentant about that.]

If there'd been a bomb, no doubt Scotland Yard have enough deductive ability to have noticed it.

Is that Sherlock? [Lestrade growls.] You can't just-- no, you know what? Forget it. John, I found Caroline's body, there was nothing on it. There was another body too, armed, looked professional. We sent two of the passengers to hospital, Molly as well, the rest of them are at the station giving statements.

[There's a tension John hadn't realized he was holding that loosens with the knowledge that Molly is safe. That other body, though...]

I think there was a man outside the carriage when Jim had me in there. I was testing him about getting off because I didn't believe him about the bomb, not really, and I saw... some one out in the dark. Or, well, he sort of alluded to them being there. I dunno how he'd have been killed, though. Unless Molly and the passengers did something? Or maybe it was from earlier if Caroline gave them any trouble?

[Oh. Right.

Sherlock points to himself and mouths "it was me". He doesn't expect that John will have any issue with him killing someone quite clearly in the criminal category, but he'd rather not get arrested by Lestrade.

Lestrade makes a mildly irritated hum, but he doesn't have more information to add.]

I might have been able to tell you more, if our mortician wasn't out of commission for work.

[Thanks for that, guys.]

[John makes note of the admission and nods after a moment. That's going to be a mystery that remains a mystery, then. With any luck, Sherlock's own work as an investigator means they won't need to worry about an inquiry for him. And if Lestrade does find anything... his relationship with Sherlock might mean he'll overlook it.

Anyone working for Jim had to be a very bad man, indeed.]

Right. Um... might be a lower priority sorting that out than... other things. What can we do to help? Apart from sitting still, I mean. [Given everyone here knows that isn't going to happen.] Sherlock has some ideas about what Jim might try next.

You know that I ought to have you both arrested, don't you?

[He's used to being annoyed by the antics of these two, but they really have gone above and beyond in this particular instance.]

Caroline obviously isn't going to be making trouble for you any more, so sitting still, healing, and keeping out of my way, are exactly what you should be doing right now.

[John doesn't say Lestrade would have to find them first, but he's thinking it. Probably best not to invite the challenge, though.]

Detective Inspector, I'm still being investigated for war crimes, unless someone's called to say those charges are being dropped. And it's been Sherlock's work that's led us to the next clue each time. This man--Moriarty, if that's even his real name--he's obsessed with Sherlock. Caroline? Me?

It's been a way to get to him. I don't know why, but he's a stalker. Our best chance to draw him out is to use Sherlock.

The war crimes... that's out of our hands, John, I'm sorry.

[Lestrade does at least lose some of the edge in his voice there, he does feel for John in that regard.]

It's a military matter, all I can do is send over the evidence that it was likely part of this campaign against you, which I've done. Other than that, the police have no jurisdiction. But Moriarty is something I can deal with. Me. The police. Not you. Not this time.

[This really isn't a fight worth having out on the phone. It's not going to come to anything.]

Good luck, Lestrade. We'll be in touch if there's anything that comes up on our end.

[He hangs up before the other man can yell at him for that.]

So. Mycroft?

[Sherlock rolls his eyes as John hands up the phone. Honestly, sometimes Lestrade can be pig-headed in his stubbornness.]

I suppose we must.

[His nose wrinkles in distaste.]

You ought to wash as best you can in the meantime.

[They're in the running for the most pig-headed, themselves, really. John just happens to believe he's in the right to be so here. And there's no stopping Sherlock, so why bother trying at this point? The sooner this is all over, the sooner he can avoid being charged with war crimes after his sister's murder and Molly's near murder. Multiple times. Sherlock will probably be kidnapped and/or almost killed again, but that's at least expected.]

Yeah.

[He hands the phone off to Sherlock and will try to wash up while the man deals with his big brother.

Said big brother sounds extraordinarily smug when he picks up.]

Brother-mine, so good to hear from you.

[Urrrrggggghhhhh.

Sherlock's mental groan is so loud that he almost expects others to actually hear it. He's already regretting calling Mycroft at all, and is genuinely considering hanging the phone up without saying anything.

But the problem is, they actually need him. For now, anyway.]

Must you aggravate me immediately?

[Why couldn't he be cursed with an alcoholic deceased sister, and John could have Mycroft?]

[Mycroft brushes off his little brother's whining.]

Some trouble, Sherlock? Something you need help with?

[He knows why Sherlock is calling him, but is does feel so good to make him say it sometimes.]

[He should have just texted.

At least Mycroft can only be somewhat annoying in text form, but this oozing smug tone is punishment in and of itself. Still, it had to be a call, he is trying to butter his brother up, after all.

Even if he doesn't want to.]

Moriarty.

[Yes, he needs help. Happy now?]

I want the files you have on him.

[And don't even try to deny they exist.]

Classified information.

[He's waiting for an offer.]

Not from you, and not from me.

[Don't make him dance to this tune, he's so not in the mood.]

[Guess who hasn't been in the mood for your petulance for the last week?]

You'll stay at the hotel I've booked.

[It's time to negotiate.]

Ah, yes, so we can be a sitting target rather than a moving one. Excellent suggestion, Mycroft.

[Sherlock couldn't possibly force more sarcasm into his voice. But the negotiations have begun, so he'll counter.]

I'll work two of your boring cases next year.

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