A Lesson From Bohemia
After living with Sherlock for over a year John should be used to the random quests, chases and or errands that they went on together, but this was getting a bit weird. He watched as Sherlock checked his cell for the fifth time since they had gotten to the cafe.
It was a small cafe that John honestly would have never gone to otherwise. The tea was good though so he made a mental note of the location and would maybe get a chance to try one of their scones some time. The noise from the traffic and pedestrians was a little louder than he would have liked though, definitely going inside the shop next time. Sherlock checked the time again.
"Sherlock are we meeting someone?" John finally asked getting his flatmate's attention. At first Sherlock seemed surprised that John had spoken before sighing dejectedly.
"They're late." The taller man looked at the time again, "They should have come around the corner by now … maybe I miscalculated … his legs are rather short."
"Wait … what?" John looked behind him at the corner of the building, well that explained why Sherlock made them switch seats when they got there. "Who are we meeting?"
"I wonder what is keeping them." Sherlock stood up ignoring John's question, which sadly John was very used to, and got up to follow him. Whoever they were supposed to be meeting, Sherlock was obviously put out that they were running late.
"Do they know that they were supposed to be meeting us?" It was a perfectly legitimate question when involved with Sherlock Holmes. The taller man made a bored scoff turning the corner but then stopped dead in his tracts. John paused looking up at Sherlock before looking in front of them. There seemed to have been some sort commotion up ahead. They both quickly made their way over to the commotion, John could feel the dread creeping up his bones as he heard a child crying and noticed someone was laying on the street. People were calling for help and looking between shocked and horrified.
"Move it! I'm a doctor! What happened?" He pushed his way through the crowd to the woman on the ground. She was breathing which was a good sign but looked like she was in a lot of pain. John couldn't help but feel like he had seen her somewhere before. There was a small boy sitting by her head crying and petting her hair. John was torn between trying to comfort the boy or help the mom but he knew where he could do better, he grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse.
"A car hit her and just drove away!" Some man was explaining, scratch that, teenage boy when John looked up at him. "Is she going to be okay? We called an ambulance."
"You stupid woman!" John almost jumped as Sherlock sat at the other side of the woman, he was about to yell at his flatmate before he noticed the look on his face. John could not recall a single moment where he had seen Sherlock look so devastated. He went back to checking her vitals as she let out a pained laugh at Sherlock. "You aren't allowed to die like this you know."
"Mom … " The kid sobbed ignoring Sherlock.
"Sherlock," Her voice was hoarse. "I never knew you cared."
That seemed to slip Sherlock's mask back on and John moved into her line of vision. "Do you know what has happened? Do you know where you are?"
"Oh what a treat." She smiled at John before letting out a shaky moan. It wasn't good, the car had hit her pretty hard and John realized she was bleeding from her head, he blood on her kids hands. "I get to meet the Dr. Watson in person." John stopped and looked at her. "How does it look Doctor?"
John shook his head grimly not wanting to say it out loud in front of her son, he seemed to be barely holding himself together.
"You can't die woman," Sherlock mumbled glaring at her, "You still have time to serve in several countries, let alone -"
"You've never been able to prove it." She grinned at Sherlock before sighing and looking up at her son. She made a pained expression. "Esmond."
"Mom, you're going to be okay." The boy, Esmond, sobbed continuing to pet her hair. "We're going to see Da and we're going to-"
"Hush love," The woman had tears in her eyes, "You have to be strong. Come here … " The boy leaned closer to his mother as she whispered something into his ear, he looked away wanting them to have their private moment and took a chance to look at Sherlock who was texting. John wondered idly what could be so important but instead looked around to see if he could make her any more comfortable as they waiting for the ambulance. He slid his jacket of and put if over her body. Esmond was sitting back up and staring down at his mother with tears falling freely from his face.
John found himself wishing just for a moment that he was back in Afghanistan helping wounded soldiers. This was so much worse.
"Dr. Watson." John looked down at her biting his lip nervously, he felt so useless at this moment. "Please take care of them." Her gaze went to Sherlock who was holding her hand and on the phone. Actually talking on the phone.
"I'm sorry, who?" John asked but she just smiled, "Can I get your name miss?"
"Irene." She smiled at him with a small wink, "I wish we could have me under better-" She started coughing and John grimaced as blood slipped from her lips. But then Sherlock was putting the phone to her ear and she smiled again.
Someone was talking to her as Sherlock held the phone to her ear. She smiled and nodded her head before wheezing. John didn't know what to do, part of him wanted to pull Esmond away, not let him watch his mother die. The other part of him felt guitly for wanting to take him away from their last minutes.
Where was that damned ambulance?
"I'm sorry love." Irene smiled at the phone, "I was hoping for something a little more dramatic I'll be honest. Though I have to admit Sherlock Holmes turning up has added a lit-" She coughed, "Don't go blaming yourself for this Mike, as much as you believe you can, you don't actually control the world."
John didn't hear the rest of the conversation as the ambulance pulled up. He got up to help the paramedics and explain the situation. Everything after that was a blur. He found himself sitting in the waiting room at the hospital beside Esmond who was drinking some water and wrapped up in a large orange blanket. John honestly didn't know what to say or do so he settled for staying beside the kid in case he needed someone.
Detective Inspector Lestrade was talking with Sherlock down the hall in hushed tones, obviously trying to get facts about the accident but since neither of them had witnessed it, they couldn't offer much. And Lestrade couldn't interview the kid without a parent or guardian.
"You are Dr. Watson?" John almost jumped as the kid spoke looking up at him.
"Uh, yes that's me." John smiled down at him. The kid had curly black hair a lot like his mother's had been and bright blue eyes. "Have we met before?"
"No." Esmond shook his head. "I have seen pictures of you before."
John bit his lip at that. What? "Then have you met Sherlock before?"
Esmond shook his head. "Pictures, but I think we were going to meet him soon."
"You and you're mother?" John flinched immediately after he asked. But the kid just took a drink of his water and nodded. John looked over at Lestrade and Sherlock who seemed to be arguing now, no helping those two.
"We came to England to meet with Da." Esmond looked at the ground somberly. "Am I going back home?"
"Where is home?" John smiled down at him.
"New Jersey." Esmond shrugged before thinking maybe John had never heard of New Jersey, "It's in America."
"I know this because I am his uncle!" Sherlock and Lestrade were making their way over to them now but that answer made both John and Lestrade look at Esmond.
"You can't honestly expect me to believe that." Lestrade gave Sherlock a questioning look. Sherlock huffed.
"You would be surprised to learn that my brother can, at times, tell the truth." Everyone looked over to see Mycroft, without his assistant (Anthea if John remembered her fake name correctly), and even more disturbing was the lack of an umbrella. John stared at the man surprised, Mycroft could to the normal eye look composed and put together but for some reason John felt like Mycroft looked close to falling apart.
"Da!" Esmond was out of his chair running to Mycroft. John found himself staring dumbly as Mycroft got to his knees and wrapped the smaller boy into a tight hug. He was whispering something to the boy and John looked over to see Lestrade looking just as dumbfounded as he felt. Sherlock wasn't looking at the embrace in front of them but instead glaring at the orange blanket on the floor that Esmond had dropped on his way to his father.
Mycroft Holmes was a dad.
And the mother of his child (wife? ex? lover?) had just died.
John found himself finding a chair and sitting down. What was going to happen next?
Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! This is my first Sherlock fanfic! So please Read and Review!