Loveable Freak Presents:Sherlock Holmes and the Chest of Reality (A Fanfic): Chapter 16

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Chapter Sixteen:

Clearing The Fog

  Everything was going foggy for Sherlock. He could faintly hear the sound of footsteps, rushing into the room. He heard what seemed to be Lestrade, yelling something like “Expulso!”, making the dragon explode. He felt someone lift him up a little, causing him to cry out in pain again.

  Then he heard Mycroft's voice: “Could you be more careful next time, Lestrade? You could have impaled someone...”

  “Sorry, Mycroft...”

  That's when Sherlock heard Mycroft say something,  sounded like “vulera sanentur”. It was almost song-like. He repeated it two more times. It was making the pain go away...

***
 

  Despite his healing and ingesting ground-up Dittany, Sherlock had still lost enough blood to make the boy pass out. Mycroft hugged his little brother to his chest.  He scooped him up and laid him in the chest. Mycroft drew his wand from his umbrella and aimed at Sherlock. First, he extracted Sherlock's memories and put them in a vial. He put the vial in his jacket. Then he aimed his wand at Sherlock again. “Obliviate.” He said, then closed The Chest.

 

  “Sir, I...I don't understand. Why collect and erase his memory?” Lestrade asked.

  Mycroft turned to his most trusted Auror. “Well,” Mycroft said, “he doesn't need to remember what happened here. Especially not today. Alternate world or not, he is still my little brother. I worry about him, you know. As for extracting the memory, that's more for our Sherlock's benefit when he returns.”

  Lestrade turned to the body of Tobias Gregson. “Shame about Toby. He was a good friend...”

  “He knew there would be risks, Lestrade. Sherlock never can keep out of danger, after all.”

  Lestrade scratched the back of his head. “I just can't help but think: "how"? How did this whole mess with those two start?”

   Mycroft smirked. “I figured that out shortly after you escorted the boys back to Hogwarts. My Sherlock had apparently been experimenting with Portkeys. He tried to make one out of the skull he likes to carry around at home. He meant for it to take him directly to Hogwarts should the train ride prove to be “dull”.

  “Unfortunately,  he had a mishap. Apparently he did the spell wrong, and somehow invented his own. So, instead of him and his new friend John Watson heading to Hogwarts, he was instead sent to The Other Sherlock's world. And the accidental spell seemed to have a few side effects. One being the other world's equivalents of them coming here. And said equivalents' bodies changing to match their counterparts. As if both worlds need a Sherlock and a Watson.

 “Presumably, the two of them returning home will bring ours back.” He concluded. There was a sudden clatter from across the room. Mycroft smiled. “Ah. Here they are now.” The Wizarding World's Sherlock and John wandered over to Mycroft and Lestrade. Lestrade uttered an inaudible swear word.

  Sherlock let out a groan. “But the world without magic was exciting!” Mycroft, in his moment of emotional display of the day, hugged his little brother. “Ack! Mycroft! You're getting your germs all over my robes!”

 Mycroft laughed. “I'm just glad you're home.”

 Lestrade turned to John. “John, do you mind going back to the other world for a moment? We just have to edit some of the Other You's memories...” John nodded and went to The Chest with Lestrade.

 Sherlock pulled out of the hug. “How come John gets to go back?” he pouted. Then he saw the charred body of Tobias Gregson. Curious, he went over to inspect the body. “And who was that?” He inquired.

 Mycroft tried not to smile. “When your friend gets back, we'll fill you in.”

***

  Sherlock gasped and woke up on his couch. What had happened? There was a gap in his memory. And he had a couple of inexplicable, long, faded scars across his chest. He couldn't have fallen asleep. Could he? “John? Do you any idea what's happened to me?”

  John turned from his laptop. “You helped yourself to what you call your “seven-per-cent solution”. All sorts of things happened.” he replied.

  Sherlock sat up and looked around. “Where's my bottle and needle?”

  “Did it occur to you I might've thrown them out? It's unhealthy, what you do. Not to mention illegal...”

  Sherlock glared at his flatmate. He got up from the couch and strolled into the kitchen. After rummaging through the cabinets, he returned to the living room with a napkin and a mug full of pens. He set them on the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor. After pulling a pen out of the mug and uncapping it, he unfolded the napkin.

 Sherlock looked at John smugly. He started writing on the napkin, saying his words aloud. “Stratagy For Conquest of Western Civilization: Revised Edition. Supplies needed: one paper clip.”

 

THE END

 

 

---

 And now I have finished! Thank you for reading, and if you didn't like it, well... I think I'll modify Shakespeare and say:

If I have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, I will mend:
And, as I am an honest Freak,
If I have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
I will make amends ere long;
Else The Freak a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Loveable Freak shall restore amends.

  So, tomorrow(?) I'll go back to normal posts. See you all then!