Chapter 6

Chapter 6

~Lestrade’s Point of View

Lestrade poured himself a glas of whisky, his hands were trembling and there were tears in his eyes.
He never really showed his emotions, but he felt so sorry for Hamish and the conversation made him think about Sherlock, of whom he was proud to have been able to call the man his friend.
Now, he had to admit it; he actually missed the man and he also missed the man’s brother, but in another way.
He didn’t even want to imagine how life would be without Mycroft, he was amazing with his children and he was the only one that made Lestrade forget about his wife for good, like he should’ve done long time ago.
Suddenly he heared footsteps in the hallway, in a reflex he put his hand right above his right pocket, where his gun normally was.
But it wasn’t there, Lestrade felt a little bit threatened by the unfamiliar noise in his apartment, but was relieved and puzzled at the same time when Mycroft walked in.
“Mycroft, what are you doing here?”
“I came home early.” Mycroft answered, there was no expression on his face.
“I can see that, but you did scare me.”
“I didn’t know policemen were able to be scared.”
Lestrade was worried about the way his ‘partner’ acted, he was never that cold; not when he was with Greg that is.
“Come sit next to me Mycroft.” Lestrade said, Mycroft obeyed and sat next to his partner.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing Greg, I am just tired.”
“You return out of the blue from this really important congress, you’d only do that if something was wrong.”
“I missed you.”
Even though Lestrade felt a little bit flattered, he was aware of the fact that Mycroft was lying.
“I do believe your missing someone, but I don’t think it is me.”
“You are right, sometimes I hate it that you’ve got so much experience with interrogating people.”
Mycroft’s voice was trembling and he turned his head away from Lestrade, that way Greg wasn’t able to see his face.
“You miss your brother, don’t you?”
Mycroft just nodded, he had a lump in his throat and he was unable to speak; he never thought he’d miss his brother so dearly. But after all that’s what they were; brothers.
“Come here.” Lestrade whispered as he put his arm around Mycroft’s shoulders.
Mycroft was silently sobbing, nothing hysterical; but he was crying.
Lestrade knew that it was all he was ever going to get, no more explanations on why Mycroft never showed emotions and why he had never cried before.
Lestrade wasn’t waiting on that either, that was how Mycroft was and he liked it that way.
They completed eachother…

~Hamish’ Point of View

‘Sherlock Holmes ‘

That was all it said, there was no message or a birth date and even stranger; no date of his death.
Hamish was confused and then he remembered the fact that his father faked his death, and that they never removed the headstone, maybe they forgot about it.
Hamish touched it for a second, the black marble felt cold under his fingers.
The headstone was nothing like his father…
But then again a headstone that was like his father couldn’t be made, that was just impossible.
Hamish turned on his heels –a habit he copied from his dad- and he continued his way to his father’s actual headstone.
“Hello father…” Hamish said as he arrived, he kneeled down at his father’s grave.
The rain was still falling from the sky, but Hamish didn’t even notice, he was too far gone now.
He was now in his own world, talking to his father and he forgot about the real world were the man was dead.
“I heard this is your second time in heaven father…”


Hamish’ voice was trembling, he didn’t know why he did this to himself, but he felt the urge to have a conversation with his father.
“I mean; the second time you are dead. Only this time it is real. And it’s not fair father, I want you here with me.
Dad misses you, so does Lestrade and even Uncle Mycroft. And in some weird way, I am sure that even Anderson and Donovan regret it, that you are dead. In some way they do.”
He coughed and swallowed a few times, until the lump in his throat was gone and he was able to continue his monologue.
“I know you can do it father, fake your dead. And I do believe you can return. Could you do this for me father?
One more miracle; don’t be dead…”
He went down on his knees while he was crying, he just couldn’t do it.

~John Watson Point of View

He woke up from his own screaming, John sat up in his bed; the nightmares had returned.
They were always there when Sherlock wasn’t around, but he would never come back.
Not this time.
John got up from his bed when he saw that it was past one o’clock in the afternoon and he decided to make lunch for himself and for Hamish.
When he got down there was no trace of Hamish…
John went back to the hallway so he could call for his son there, John thought that Hamish was still asleep.
“Hamish!” John called, but the boy didn’t answer.
John tried a few times more, but there was no sound or movement.
He know got a little bit anxious and ran upstairs, to find that his son’s bed had not been slept in that night.
In a reflex he called Lestrade, he didn’t care what he was doing; he wanted his son.
“Lestrade?”
“No, it’s Mycroft; Lestrade is in the shower. What can I do for you John?”
Normally John would’ve smiled when Mycroft picked up Lestrade’s phone, but not now and not today.
“I need Lestrade; please.”
“What is wrong John, are you alright?”
“No I am not, Hamish never returned home yesterday. And I have no bloody idea where he is.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get Greg. Calm down John, it’ll be alright.”
John heared how Mycroft climbed the stairs and then he heard how the sound of pouring water got louder, he heard how Mycroft was saying something to Lestrade.
“Yeah John, what is it?”
“Hamish never returned, have you got any idea where he is now?”
“He was here yesterday evening, he left around ten o’clock I thought he was going home.”
“Apparently he wasn’t…” John mumbled, with a trembling voice.
“Have you got any idea of where he could possibly be?”
“The graveyard maybe…”
“I’ll go there, and I’ll call you later John. You just stay home, we will find him don’t worry.”
“Please do Greg, I can’t lose him too… I really can’t…”