Title: Within This House, Thou Must Not Abide

Author: Felicia Angel

Rating: M/R

Characters: Lestrade, Holmes, Watson

Summary: Part Two of my retelling of "The Awakened", this part dealing with the first two parts of the game and the changes therein. Lestrade's search for Watson is cut short by the disappearance of Captain Stenwick's Maori servant, as well as a sighting of Sherlock Holmes in the area. Could this be a link to Moran and where he sent Watson?

Author's Notes: The title is taken from Grimm's Grimmest story "The Robber Bridegroom". The full 'song' is Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride/Within this house, thou must not abide/For here do evil things betide.

I had not liked the plan, but Watson insisted on it and who was I to deny him the capture of the last of Moriarty's group? I had been busy with other cases, as had Gregson and even Hopkins, which made Holmes take up another Inspector as his confidant and have him press the issue. Of course, he thought he got all of them. The man was a git, and after we found out about Holmes' death, I came close to a reprimand for assault on a fellow police officer. Instead, Hopkins beat me to it, and Gregson beat me the next time, after Mary Watson's death and what was apparently a callus remark about us 'pampering the last link to our crib sheet detective'.

So I and others enjoyed the Doctor's company. So a few of us enjoyed reading his works and seeing what we could figure out before the real person was revealed. I knew I wasn't painted favorably but it was hard to do compared to Mr. Sherlock Holmes…though Gregson did laugh about the 'ferret-faced' comment, and Watson did apologize but I did have that look…on top of that, it had taken years for us to gain anything like friendship with the man, though with the Doctor it was always a good deal easier and helped us later on when having to deflect or deal with our 'slow' natures.

The Adair case had almost been normal except no gun, no reason for suicide, and the only way a person could do it was with a rifle, but what rifle fired revolver bullets? I should be so happy that Watson, despite the annoying man at the coroner's court, was still up to giving his opinions. They had never steered us or Holmes wrong, and I did take into my mind what he knew about guns. The man was a police surgeon, and an army surgeon, he should know guns! Still, he had been as clueless as I, and despite a minor warning about what could turn dangerous, he still felt like looking into it.

So when he came to me, breathless and obviously in a run for his life, I listened, and decided on his plan. He would go in, put up the fake bust of Holmes that (for some reason) Holmes had ordered much earlier, and the bait would be set. We would have the man, and to hell with the consequences!

We waited in the dark, Watson smiling and I curious as to the smile.

"It's as if I'm with him again," he told me, "as if he's here, watching and happy that I'm finishing it."

When we caught Moran, the old shikari gave Watson a nice bruise and nearly choked him to death. He wasn't treated nicely on the way back to the station. Nor was he treated nicely when we asked about Adair, though Watson had guessed that one right as well.

And then, when I went to congratulate him, I found his practice for sale, and him having gone through what had to be a fake court that deemed him insane and shuffled him off somewhere.

Moran was not treated well at all when I found this out, but he instead laughed and said some nonsense, saying he didn't know where 'they' took him, only that he'd given the Doctor's name for some experiment…

Mycroft Holmes was formidable but he was on my side, and for the past five months, with what resources I had, I tracked down the people who'd moved the Doctor, the court that sent him away, the man who put him on the boat…

But my jurisdiction stopped at the mouth of the Thames. He was somewhere in Europe, if alive, and I couldn't begin to think of where he was sent. Mycroft Holmes had to find that, while I was sent around on errands, all the while realizing that if Holmes had been here, he wouldn't have stopped. He would've found him by now, and not needed his brother's help, or if he had I would've never heard of it.

The cases of disappearing immigrants was one of rather long and somewhat heated (at times) debate, but I took the case because I wanted a change of pace and honestly hoped to find someone. Upon realizing the ages, I also realized most were just children, and wanted nothing more then to find and return them home, as well as tell them to not worry their family so. Few if any even came to us as it was, and that they were now spoke of their desperation.

So I was lead to the young Maori, and now, here was Holmes, and for a second I could only stare at him before I said what, in hindsight, was probably not the first thing he expected.

"You bastard, where the hell have you been? Do you have any clue what's been going on while you've been convincing us you were dead?"

"Hello to you too," Holmes muttered from next to me, "and I've gotten delayed in France, taking down some of the last of Moriarty's international ring. I heard about what happened in Camden House, and afterwards…I am sorry for not arriving earlier."

I turned to look at him, taking in his too-pale face and thin appearance, as well as the apparent loss of light in his eyes.

I'm sorry I didn't protect him, or get to him in time. "I've found most of those responsible, but they sent him to the continent. I don't know where."

"Sadly, that was only half the puzzle. Mycroft informed me of the other half, which you appear to be on as well."

"The missing foreigners?"

He nodded. "A few others appear to have been recruited into an anarchistic cult, though it appears to want more then to overthrow one government, but indeed all. I don't know what they need the people for just yet, or how Moran is connected…I was hoping for some insight."

I considered telling him no, but I knew it was always easier to work with him and instead sighed, telling him what I knew. Moran had joined some group before he joined Moriarty, and had used it to get rid of Watson. Of course, my own testimony had sent him to jail anyway, and the knowledge that it was kidnapping had only extended the sentence. I told him what I tracked, but they had already sent Watson away at least two weeks before I got to that end, for which I blamed more work then necessary and having to call in Gregson and Hopkins, as well as various others, to help me in their spare time as it had been deemed a cold case almost from the beginning.

Holmes snorted. "I hope you can see now why I work outside the police force when I can. I know the rules, and they can be too restricting at times."

"Holmes, if you'd been on the police force, there are plenty of rules that you'd have broken and you wouldn't be higher then a bobby."

Holmes smirked briefly at that, which I was grateful to see. At least the man had a sense of humor still, though the disappearance of Watson had obviously been worrying him near to a real death.

"We must find him, Lestrade."

"We will, Holmes. If I don't, then you will."

The docks were cold, and despite sending off a letter on what I was searching for, I came up to find Holmes having already asked about the possible suspect who worked there, and on his way to someone's house where he might get information. I was forced to follow, for I knew well enough this wasn't my case at all, and I was only helping as far as backup and official force.

We found no one at the house, but learned from the Nepalese neighbors that they had also lost a young man, and found ourselves in possession of a fake silver pelican that might or might not be lure for young people. I attempted to recall the evidence and if I'd seen such a thing when we heard a retching sound, and walked over to find a young deliveryman who was sick to the side and violently so.

I approached close enough to smell the alcohol coming off him and said to Holmes, "This man reeks of alcohol…whatever his illness, it's obviously self-induced."

The young man hiccupped and blinked at me beadily before saying as he swayed, "Not my fault, honest. A gang o' tuffs forced it on me……oohh, me head."

We both frowned, Holmes asking in a quiet voice about the gang and learning it was near here and taking up a small bottle from the man after he explained they had forced the drink on him, taken his parcel, and left him this way.

Holmes tried some and frowned. "Lestrade, will you have to arrest a moonshiner if you meet them?"

I glared at him and he gave me a smile. "I'll be back in a few minutes, then, if you can get some help for this poor man."

I did so, not wanting to ask him more then I needed to know. It was a local joke among some of the bobbies that the less you looked at how Holmes got his information, the happier and less paperwork you'll need. While I might have wanted to question about it now, I knew that there was no point in it and that it would lose me the trail and the case.

I sighed as I waited outside the Cursed Mermaid for him to return, a small brown package in hand, before going in and learning that it was for the drunk man with the hook hand. The hook was discarded and we learned that "Dirty" Summers, a man fitting the description of the one who took the Nepalese boy, was near the back earlier, getting sailors for something or other. Holmes went to look, and returned with a small drawing of four strange symbols.

"Thank you," he told the bartender, giving him a coin and the two of us leaving as he said, "I should've headed off earlier, or asked you to. Tell me what you know of Warehouse 12, Lestrade."

"Other then no bobby in this area will go near the place if they can help it?"

Holmes gave me a look and I sighed. "A few years ago, there was a raid on it, and it resulted in a good number of deaths. Since then, one or two of the more superstitious lot has said that there were ghosts roaming around. They also said that another group took up where the last one left off."

"What were these two?" he asked as we passed a ship in drydock and went around a few of the lower-numbered warehouses.

"The first were cannibals, the next…well, no one's sure if it is a cult. There's never been enough evidence."

We reached it, and he looked up at the hole before saying, "I have a feeling you'll get your evidence."

"I was afraid of that. I'm off to not watch you break and enter."

"Could you do it where you might help me a little?"