Glass - A Sherlock Fan Fiction

Chapter Thirty Four

*Possible trigger warning: This chapter contains description of intravenous drug use.

III

Through the tinted windows of the car, the cold December morning was bright and crisp. Sherlock folded his arms and looked to his brother.

"I need to make a stop at Baker Street before we go to the airfield."

Mycroft frowned. "This isn't a taxi, Sherlock. You're not off on holiday, you're being exiled."

"Yes, and after today you will never have to deal with me again. Can you not afford me five minutes at my flat before I hop on a plane to my inevitable death?"

"Fine." Mycroft sighed before directing the driver towards to Baker Street.

III

He rifled through the kitchen cupboards, filling his arms with bottles, utensils and tools. He put them on the table before sliding open the kitchen drawer and taking out the cocaine. 'For emergencies'. Was this an emergency? He shrugged. He grabbed the remnants of whatever other drugs he could find stashed around the flat and mixed them into the cocaine concoction, cradling it inside some tinfoil and holding it over a Bunsen burner with one hand.

He used his teeth to rip open a fresh syringe packet. "Come on... Come on..." he said quietly as he waited impatiently for it to cook, glancing towards the living room on the lookout for his brother.

Finally, it was ready. He filled the syringe and held it in his mouth as he unravelled an elastic tourniquet and tied it tight around his arm.

"Sherlock! Is that you up there!?" Mrs Hudson voice echoed up the stairs.

He dropped the syringe from his mouth and caught it in his hand. "One moment!"

"I thought you were going straight to the plane," she said, her steps creaking up the stairs.

"Don't come up here!" he shouted as he injected the mixture into his arm, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes.

"Oh, Sherlock, you're not going on the run, are you?" She stood on the bottom step running her finger against her lip with worry.

"Of course not," he said as he popped his head over the banister with a smile.

Mrs Hudson yelped in surprise as she watched him skip down the stairs, straightening his coat and flicking up his collar. He sat down on the bottom step, pulled out a pen and paper and began to scrawl something down.

"Is that a goodbye letter for me?" asked Mrs Hudson.

Sherlock stood up and laughed. "No, it's a list for Mycroft." he slipped it into his pocket. "But you can have this pen." He handed it over with a wink.

III

Mycroft stood with his brother on the runway near the plane as they watched a black car pull up in front of them. Mary climbed out of the back and made her way towards them. John climbed out the other side and followed her.

"You will look after him for me, won't you?" said Sherlock as Mary approached him with a smile.

"Oh," she replied before kissing his cheek and pulling him into a hug. "Don't worry, I'll keep him in trouble."

"That's my girl."

She pulled away, walking back to John's side and taking his hand. John gave a nod.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft. "Since this is likely to be the last conversation I'll have with John Watson, would you mind if we took a moment?"

Mycroft raised his brow before gesturing to his security guard to walk away. Mary followed, leaving the two men alone.