Thank you Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan on livejournal for the transcripts. They help so much.
Here is the first part of His Last Vow
I own nothing, except Calliah and my ideas.
It had been a couple weeks since the wedding and everything was calm. John hadn’t been around and so Sherlock was a little more moody. I sigh when I get to Sherlock’s flat. He was sleeping in his chair. He had probably fallen asleep looking at where John’s chair use to be. He had moved after the first month of no John. I complained because I could have sat there, but the look on Sherlock’s face shut me up. I kneel down and am about to wake him up. “Don’t.” I hear. I look behind me and see Janine. “We were up late.”
“Doing what?” I stand up and smirk.
“You know…?” She smirks.
“Yeah, no. I would know if you guys were…. Doing that.” I say.
She shakes her head and starts making breakfast. She had been here for as the long the chair was gone. I didn’t like her. She thought since she was dating Sherlock, she had control over him. I knew Sherlock was only dating her to get something, what that something was, I didn’t know yet. I kneel back down and shake him lightly.
“Sherlock. Lock.” I say softly. He groans and opens one eye. He sees me and shuts his eyes again. “Come on. We need to get up. We have the case today.” I say. That gets his attention, as he sits up right away and smiles. “Go get dressed. Remember, it has to be comfy and old.” I remind him as he passes by. We were going to a drug house to stay for a while. We needed information and these people were the best. I told Mycroft where I would be and that I couldn’t be able to call him that much. He understood but hated it. I just reminded him of all his time away. I hated that I used it against him but I couldn’t let Sherlock go alone. Sherlock comes out in a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie. “Good. We need to leave.”
“Sherl… You need to eat.” Janine says and pouts. I roll my eyes.
“I can’t. I have to go.” Sherlock explains.
“Well will I see you tonight?” She asks.
“No. I told you that I was going to be working for a while. It’s a case.” He explains.
“I could come and help.” She offers.
“No.” Sherlock says. “Er, it’s not safe. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She sighs and nods. “Okay.” She kisses him and he lets her. I start heading for the door. He never kissed her back. Sherlock comes behind me and wipes his mouth off.
We get outside and start walking. “When are you going to break up with her?” I ask.
“When she gets me what I need.” Sherlock explains.
“Which is what?” I asks.
“You’ll find out soon.” He says and smirks.
We get to the drug house and I put on my act of being someone who was on drugs and needed some more. We get in easy enough and we start our mission.
It’s been a week and I was lying in bed. Sherlock was lying by me. I frowned at him. He has been taking some drugs. I tried to stop him, but we would get in fights and he would leave. I wouldn’t see him for a couple days. I couldn’t be alone so I just made sure he didn’t take too much. Sometimes, I would take some to keep up appearance. I shouldn’t have gotten into this. I lie in bed and try to sleep. It was almost morning and I hadn’t got any sleep. I had to take some morphine last night and was jittery. I look over and see Sherlock awake. He looks at me and frowns. At his clean moment, I could see the normal Sherlock. I knew he felt bad for bringing me. I move into him and he hugs me.
“Isaac? Isaac Whitney?” I hear. I open my eyes and peek. It was John. I look at Sherlock and he shakes his head and closes his eyes. I close my eyes and move into him more. I didn’t want John to see me like this anyways. “Issac?” He asks quietly. He walks to our bed. I guess John knows who we sleep with. “Hello, mate. Sit up for me? Sit up.” I feel the bed move.
“Doctor Watson?” Isaac asks.
“Yep.” John says.
“Where am I?” Isaac asks.
“The arse-end of the universe with the scum of the Earth. Look at me.” John explains.
“Have you come for me?” Isaac asks blearily.
“D’you think I know a lot of people here?!” John asks. Isaac laughs hazily. “Hey, all right?”
Sherlock lets go of me and turns around. He props himself onto one elbow and looks round at them. I sit up and look at John. “Ah, hello, John.” John raises his head, his eyes widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” He pushes his hood back as John turns round to look at us. Sherlock squinches up his eyes and peers at him. “Did you come for us too?” John looks at us for a second then his eyes begin to narrow.
He makes up get up and start walking. It was very hard for me. I had only had this stuff in my system a couple times. It affected me differently and I was so tired. Sherlock picked me up and I gripped onto his hoodie. Sherlock angrily punches open a temporary door which had been nailed across a doorway, knocking it off all its nails and sending it crashing across the fire escape. They had been fighting the whole way down. “For God’s sake, John! We’re on a case!”
John follows us. “A month – that’s all it took. One.”
Halfway down, Sherlock vaults over the side of the fire escape and onto a wall beside it. “We’re working.” He sets me down and jumps onto the top of a wheelie bin beside the wall. He helps me down. Then he jumps down again and helps me. John follows.
“Sherlock Holmes and Calliah Holmes in a drug den! How’s that gonna look?” John asks.
“We’re undercover.” Sherlock explains.
“No you two are not!” John says.
“Well, we’re not now!” He gesticulates angrily.
A car comes over to us and I see that it is Mary. “In. All three of you, quickly.”
John gets into the passenger seat while Sherlock gets into the seat behind him. He helps me in. Bill hurries over towards the car, cradling his hurt arm. Mary sighs in exasperation at us, then turns to look through the front windscreen at the new arrival standing in front of the car. “Please. Can I come? I think I’ve got a broken arm.” Bill says.
“No. Go away.” Mary says. I frown. Bill was nice.
“No, let him.” John says. I grin. Yay Bill.
“Why?” Mary asks.
John leans out of the open side window and points towards the rear of the car. “Yeah, just get in. It’s a sprain.” Sherlock moves me to his lap as Bill gets in.
“Anyone else? I mean, we’re taking everybody home, aren’t we?” Mary asks. Pregnant Mary was angry Mary.
Bill looks at us. “All right, Shezza and Róise?” he ask.
“’Shezza and Róise’?” John asks us.
“We were undercover.” Sherlock says tetchily.
“Seriously – ‘Shezza’, thought?!”
Sherlock sighs and I move my head on his shoulder. I wanted sleep.
“We’re not going home. We’re going to Bart’s. I’m calling Molly.” John says.
“Molly! I haven’t seen her in ages!” I yell.
“Why?” Mary asks.
John holds his phone to his ear and turns to look at us before directing to Mary. “Because Sherlock Holmes and Calliah Holmes need to pee in a jar.” Sherlock closes his eyes with exasperation. Mary drives away.
We go to the lab at Bart’s. Molly was finishing the test on Sherlock’s and my urine sample. He is standing nearby, leaning back against the central bench and looking sulky. I was by him. On the other side of the lab Bill is sitting on a side bench while Mary is wrapping a bandage round his arm. Isaac is also sitting nearby. Molly takes off her gloves with two loud snaps. “Well? Are they clean?” John asks.
“Clean?” Molly asks. She turns and walks over to face Sherlock, then slaps him hard around the face with her right hand. Mary, Bill and Isaac look over to them in surprise. Molly slaps him again just as hard and then, for good measure, slaps him again with her left hand. Sherlock blinks and grimaces. “How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?” She looks at me and slaps me. I frown and grab my cheek. “How dare you let him lead you to a drug house and take drugs!?” She looks at John and then back as us. “And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you’re sorry. Both of you.”
Sherlock was holding his face too. “I’m sorry that your engagement’s finally over – though I’m fairly grateful for the lack of a ring.”
“Stop it.” Molly says angrily. “Just stop it.”
John storms over towards us. My high was wearing off and I was getting even more tired. I just wanted to go somewhere to sleep. “If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called, you could have talked to me. And you brought Calliah, who could be addicted now!”
“Shhh…” I say softly.
“No sleeping!” John yells. I hold my hands over my head and glare at him.
“Please do relax. This is all for a case. A case that Calliah is helping with since you can’t be around.” Sherlock explains.
“A ca… What kind of case would need you two to do this?” John asks.
“I might as well ask you why you’ve started cycling to work.” Sherlock asks.
John shakes his head. “No. We’re not playing this game.”
“Quite recently, I’d say. You’re very determined about it.” Sherlock says.
“Not interested.” John says.
“I am.” Bill says. Sherlock turns and looks at him. Bill looks down at Mary. “Ow.”
“Oh, sorry. You moved. But it is just a sprain.” Mary says.
“Yeah. Somebody ‘it me.” Bill says.
“Huh?” Mary asks.
Bill turns his head to look at John. John hit Bill? “Eh, just some guy.”
“Yeah, probably just an addict in need of a fix.” John says.
“Yes. I think, in a way, it was.” Sherlock says and I chuckle.
“Is it his shirt?” Bill asks.
Sherlock looks at him. “I’m sorry?”
“Well, it’s the creases, innit?” Bill asks. He looks across to John. “The two creases down the front. It’s been recently folded but it’s not new.” Sherlock smiles slightly. “Must have dressed in a hurry this morning so all your shirts must be kept like that.” John stares at him in confusion. I grin at him. “But why? Maybe ’cause you cycle to work every morning, shower when you get there an’ then dress in the clothes you brought with you.” Sherlock looks at him, clearly impressed. “You keep your shirts folded ready to pack.” Bill finished.
“Not bad.” Sherlock says.
“An’ I further deduce ...” Bill continues. Sherlock raises his eyebrows, and he and John exchange a brief glance. “... You’ve only started recently, because you’ve got a bit of chafing.” John looks down his body.
“No – he’s always walked like that. Remind me – what’s your name again?” Sherlock asks.
“They call me The Wig.” Bill says.
“No they don’t.” Sherlock says.
“Well, they-they call me Wiggy.” Bill says.
“Nope.” Sherlock says.
Bill hesitates, then looks down. “Bill. Bill Wiggins.”
“Nice observational skills, Billy.” Sherlock says. His phone sounds a text alert. He takes out the phone and looks at the message. “Ah! Finally.”
“’Finally’ what?” Molly asks.
“Good news?” Bill asks
“Oh, excellent news – the best.” Sherlock says. He turns and heads for the door, working on his phone. “There’s every chance that Calliah’s and my drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on.” Raising his phone to his ear as he reaches the door, he turns and looks round the room briefly. “Excuse me for a second.” He leaves the room. John looks at me and frowns. I rest my head on the table and fall asleep.
I wake up as Sherlock shakes me. We were in a taxi. “Where are we?”
“My flat.” He says and helps me out. He looks over to the door and sighs. “What is my brother doing here?”
I stand up straight and grin. “Croft.” I rush inside and see Mycroft sitting on the stairs. “Croft!” I yell and jump into his arms. I missed him so much.
“Hello love.” He hugs me and kisses my head “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. So much!” I say and sit on his lap.
“Calliah. I will not have you on drugs okay?” He says sternly. I nod and he stares at me.
“I promise. I’m sorry. I just had to help Sherlock. If I didn’t do them then our cover would be blown and I didn’t want to leave him to do more drugs and….” I says and frown. “I’m sorry… I won’t do them anymore.”
“I know you won’t. I had a little spy in the drug house myself. I wasn’t going to let my wife go away and not know what was going on.” He explains. He looks up as Sherlock and John come in. “Well, then, Sherlock. Back on the sauce and bring my wife along for the ride?”
“What are you doing here?” Sherlock asks.
“I phoned him. He needed to know where his brother and wife was at.” John says.
“The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy – though, in many ways, cross-dressing world have been a wiser path for you.” Mycroft says. I giggle and cuddle into Mycroft.
“You phoned him.” I heard Sherlock asks.
“’Course I bloody phoned him.” John says.
“’Course he bloody did. You had my wife. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?” Mycroft asks.
“’We’?” Sherlock asks.
“Mr. Holmes?” I hear Anderson’s voice from upstairs. I groan. I look at Mycroft and he looks at me. I roll my eyes.
“For God’s sake!” Sherlock says furiously. He storms up the stairs, Mycroft slides us sideways on the step to get out of Sherlock’s way. Mycroft and John exchange a look and John blows out a breath. Mycroft taps my butt and I get up. Mycroft leans on his umbrella to push himself to his feet. We go up the stairs and go into the kitchen. “Some members of your little fan-club. Do be polite. They’re entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat.” Sherlock has curled up sideways in his chair and now lays his head on one of his arms, closing his eyes. “You’re a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can’t afford a drug habit. And if Calliah become an addict, I will blame you.”
“I won’t become addicted.” I say softly.
Sherlock opens his eyes and looks at Mycroft irritated. “I do not have a drug habit.”
“Hey, what happened to my chair?” John asks. I sigh.
“It was blocking my view to the kitchen.” Sherlock says.
John turns to Mycroft. “Well, it’s good to be missed.”
“Well, you were gone. I saw an opportunity.” Sherlock says.
“Yeah, an opportunity to make me sit on the couch all the time.” I say.
“No, you saw the kitchen.” John says.
Mycroft turns to Anderson and hold me close “What have you found so far? Clearly nothing.”
“There’s nothing to find.” Sherlock says.
Mycroft lets go of me and turns toward the hallway behind the kitchen. “Your bedroom door is shut.” Sherlock sighs. Mycroft slowly walks along the hallway. “You haven’t been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?” Sherlock has raised his head and flipped his hood back while Mycroft progressed. Now Mycroft reaches the door and puts his hand on the door knob. Sherlock hurls himself up into a sitting position.
“Okay, Stop! Just stop.” Sherlock says. Mycroft turns the knob but doesn’t open the door. “Point made.”
“Jesus, Sherlock.” John says.
Mycroft turns and walks slowly back along the hall. “Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma.” Sherlock looks down and closes his eyes. “Won’t be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing.”
Sighing, Sherlock stands up and walks closer to Mycroft. “This is not what you think. This is for a case.”
“What case could possibly justify this?” Mycroft asks.
“Magnussen.” Sherlock says. Mycroft’s slight smile drops. I frown. “Charles Augustus Mafnussen.”
Mycroft draws in a breath and turn to Anderson and his helper. “That name you think you may have just heard – you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you – on behalf of the British security services – that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don’t reply – just look frightened and scuttle.” Anderson immediately ushers the person out of the kitchen and follows her onto the landing, closing the door behind him. Mycroft turns back to where John is standing beside Sherlock. “I hope I won’t have to threaten you as well.”
“Well, I think we’d both find that embarrassing.” John says. Sherlock snorts laughter, turning his head away.
“Magnussen is not your business.” Mycroft says sternly to Sherlock.
Sherlock turns back to Mycroft and points. “Oh, you mean he’s yours.”
“You may consider him under my protection.” Mycroft says.
“I consider you under his thumb.” Sherlock says. I frown.
“If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me.” Mycroft says quietly and ominously.
“Okay. I’ll let you know if I notice.” Sherlock says. I frown more and roll my eyes. He strolls towards the kitchen door. “Er, what was I going to say? Oh, yeah.” He opens the door. “Bye-bye.” He points the way out.
Mycroft walks round him, then turns to face him. “Unwise, brother mine.”
Immediately Sherlock seizes Mycroft’s left arm just below the elbow. Twisting his arm up behind his back, he slams his brother face-first against the wall beside the kitchen door. Mycroft cries out in pain. I gasp and watch. I needed to go over, but I didn’t want to get hurt. Sherlock breathes rapidly, his voice venomous. “Brother mine, don’t appal me when I’m high.”
John hurries over to Mycroft’s side. He watches Sherlock’s face. “Mycroft, don’t say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might.” Mycroft pushes himself free of his brother’s grip and holds his left arm in pain. Sherlock turns and walks away. Mycroft turns towards him. “Don’t speak. Just leave.” Mycroft lowers his right arm. John looks down towards the floor. “Oh.” He bends down and picks up Mycroft’s umbrella which he had dropped. Straightening up again, he offers it to him, clearing his throat. Mycroft snatches it from his hand and leaves.
I look at Sherlock and frown. “You didn’t have to do that Sherlock.” I frown and follow Mycroft. “Mycroft.” I catch up with him. “Is your arm hurt?”
“A little. We should get home.” He says. I nod and we get into the car.