Chapter Text
Holmes entered the room quietly, ignoring our client and me as he made his way towards the balcony of our hotel room. The light poured in and stung my tired eyes as he pushed aside the curtains and stepped outside.
“Why, it looks like the friend we met from the graveyard may have been right about a monster,” Holmes stated, his voice even and calm like it always was. I frowned at his tone, remaining seated as I asked:
“Whatever could you mean?”
“There does seem to be some sort of monster in the lake. Eyes cannot deceive, my friend. I see it quite clearly.”
“This is not the time for jokes, Holmes,” I muttered, my eyes rising to look at him from under my eyebrows. Our client was already by his side, staring into the water.
“Oh, my! What is that?” The woman gasped as she looked out into the water.
I stood up, rolling my eyes as I walked over to our client, deciding it would be best to indulge the two in whatever game they were playing. As I peered over her shoulder, my eyes widened as I saw the shadow of the creature with its head above the water, which was attached to its long neck. The Loch was coated in a thick layer of fog, which was unusual for a morning this warm and sunny. Despite these obscurities, the faint outline of the monster was still visible. I said nothing, only allowed my jaw to drop.
From the periphery of my vision, I could see how Holmes glanced at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looked at me in the same way they had on my and Mary’s wedding day. His smile was small and sad as he allowed the corners of his lips to slightly fall with the fallacy that no one could see him. The spark of life I was so familiar with was absent in his eyes, replaced by a distinct cloudedness and distance. His pupils were larger even as the light shone into his eyes, dark circles embedded under them.
I did not let my emotions show on my face, focusing back on the creature in the waters of Loch Ness. I chose to believe the lies I had told myself, although the evidence was right before me, and I was not new to the position I found myself in. He had a case. He had no reason for such… extremities.
The creature had disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the three of us were left standing on the stone balcony, staring at the water as the small ripples glistened under the morning sun. The morning was too lovely for a day such as this. The gentle breeze was warm as it brushed past his skin, shaking the vines wrapped around the rails of the balcony as it crept up the wall. The sun was already halfway up in the sky, basking in the vast ocean of light blue.
“Well, that’s a peculiar surprise,” Holmes stated, his voice chipper as he broke into another smile. One of those facades he would put on for our clients whenever he wanted them to feel better. “Well, that monster is of no importance to us. What is important to us is the castle and red runner–whoever that may be– that my brother had mentioned.”
“Oh, yes! I have read of your brother,” our client chimed in. “Mycroft Holmes, was it?”
“How many of our cases have you read, exactly?” I asked, furrowing one of my brows.
“Quite a few,” our client muttered, flushing a bit, “I love to read; it is one of my favorite pastimes… and, well, I had not brought a book with me while on the way here as I was in quite a rush, so I picked up some copies of the Strand on the road, as well as the copies you gave me. I suppose I had learned to read quite quickly, considering all of the complex poems with their flowery language and old vocabulary I had read that Emile had either recommended or written himself.”
“Oh, well, I suppose there is nothing wrong with that.”
Holmes cleared his throat, rocking to and fro on the balls of his feet, rather impatient with our chatter. “May we be on our way now?” He asked, raising an unsteady hand to signal towards the exit, a smile sprawled across his face.
Once the three of us were outside, our client turned towards Holmes, asking him what we would be doing.
“The only lead we have at the moment is the castle,” he stated, “Which castle, I do not know. So, we will be inspecting them all until we find the one.” With that, he held up a rather large map of the castles in Inverness, and I could already feel the way my bad knee would ache after today.
For that whole day, we cycled from one castle to the other, and although the scenery was absolutely gorgeous, I could still feel the ache slowly creeping in. We passed dense forests packed with trees, beautiful meadows with a colourful array of flowers, intricate and large gardens, farms hoarding sheep which blocked the roads. Castle after castle, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly small among the towering structures. It was absolutely breathtaking, yet extremely laborious.
“Oh, don’t you think this is absolutely gorgeous, Dr. Watson?” our client asked as she fell back to follow my slower pace, Holmes only a little ahead of us. The whole time, she had been ahead by quite a bit, allowing the breeze to rush past her as she took in the scenery of Scotland.
“I- yes, I would say it is quite nice,” I huffed, “Yet, it is quite the workout, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it is…” the woman said as she looked over at me in pity.
Suddenly, Holmes stopped in the center of the trial, forcing the two of us to stop to avoid a collision.
“Would the two of you like a break? Because I am beginning to feel rather tired,” he said as he looked back at us, the smile returning to his face. All of his smiles seemed so false; it was starting to seem off-putting.
“Oh, yes. I am absolutely famished! May we picnic here?” The woman asked as she stepped off her bike.
Holmes gave a quick nod as he reached for the picnic basket at the back of his bike and said that we would be eating near the river, just off to the side of the trail we were on.
I had gotten off my bike as well, forgetting it on the trail as I caught up with the woman, catching her attention by exclaiming:
“Mrs. Valladon!”
She turned to look at me, and it was the first time I had gotten a good look at her face since that morning. The heat and exercise had helped add some colour to her cheeks, but it also worked to make the circles around her eyes all the more prominent.
“How are you holding up?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“I-” she began, but was interrupted by a sharp intake of air, “I am not sure. I guess I am trying not to think about it…”
“I know things must be hard at the moment, so if you ever need a break or to just… step back from things, tell me.”
She nodded, allowing her lungs to fill with the warm, damp air.
“Is it-” She muttered before hesitating, “Lord, I sound like a child, but… can we be friends after all this? I know you have to be kind to me because I am your patient, but in the short time I have known you, you have been a great comfort. Feel free to reject me in favor of professionalism or any other reason, but… I guess I don’t have much to lose by asking, do I?”
I looked at her, and I could not help but feel guilty. This woman was trusting me with so much, and Holmes was suspecting her of being a murderess. Yet, it would be rude to shoot her down… and I had begun to see quite a friend in her with our limited time together. She needed someone; anyway, it would be the only kind thing to do.
“Of course,” I whispered, putting on a smile. She mirrored it with a quick nod before turning to make her way where Holmes had laid out the picnic. I hesitantly followed behind her.
While we ate, it was very quiet. The only noise that could be heard was the quiet buzzing of the bees, the low rush of water, and the pleasant song of birds. The day was lovely, yet I was distracted by the way the woman stared down at her lap with melancholy as she ate, and by the way Holmes stared out into the water with his knees to his chest, not having even touched his portion of the food.
Suddenly, I heard a shriek which pulled me out of my thoughts, and my eyes darted to where our client was sitting. She was repeatedly opening and closing her parasol as she shouted:
“A bee! A bee!”
Holmes turned his attention to her as well. “Don’t shoo it away; you will only anger it,” said he in a rather calm and sleepy voice.
Even with Holmes’ warning, she stood up as she backed away from it, and gave a relieved sigh when it seemed to have been scared away.
“This is a very beautiful place, you know. I would love to take a quick stroll,” she commented, before turning to me. Dr. Watson, would you like to join me?”
I shook my head no before saying, “I need to rest my legs after all that biking, but you go ahead.”
She nodded before her eyes darted between Holmes and me, and a small smile appeared on her face. She nodded again before turning to leave, the parasol on her shoulder.
I waited until she was out of sight to turn to Holmes, staring at his back as the world around us faded into silence once more. He did not speak, only stared at the river before us with his knees against his chest. He was unnaturally still, as if prey cornered by a predator. I sucked in a sharp breath as I reminded myself why I had to do this:
I cannot lose him again.
“Holmes,” I muttered. Perhaps it would be best to start this as a regular conversation. Something about the case. “She cannot be a murderess.”
“Hm?” He asked, turning his head a bit, but his back was still to me. “What makes you say that?”
“I- I spoke to her, and she seemed quite nice. She told me her story, and it all matched up to the letter we have from her. She really misses those people, and she knew them well. No person could fake such passion, even the best of actors. She knew them well, and she will grieve them bitterly.”
“Did she confess to impersonating Mrs. Valladon?” Holmes asked, still looking to his side.
“I-” I stuttered, “No… no, she did not.” I had noticed how she stumbled over the idea of her marriage. It was evident that she was impersonating her ‘friend,’ who was the wife of Emile Valladon, but I still did not understand why.
“Then she is not to be trusted.”
“Holmes, what if your conclusions are wrong? What if you had made an error? I trust your judgement, but everything I had gathered from this woman seems to point towards the contrary. Can you not listen to me this once? Is character not a vital aspect in evaluating a suspect?”
Holmes did not respond, only turned his attention back to the stream.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked in growing frustration in my voice, nearly yelling.
“Doing what?”
“This- this…” I stammered, “Stubbornness! Even for you, this is new. You’re stuck on this theory that you made in the matter of seconds, and even with your experience, I know even you wouldn’t come to such conclusions with such limited evidence. It’s also, frankly- for lack of a better term- idiotic! And you’re acting so odd-“ I paused, my shouting pausing for a second. He met my gaze for the first time since that morning, and I could see that familiar cloudiness spread over his dilated pupil. I furrowed my brows. I knew well what this meant, yet I could not believe the signs by themself. I needed the concrete, undeniable proof. He had a case; he had no use for such substances now.
Although I acknowledged that thought, I still grabbed Holmes’ thin wrist and yanked it towards me before he could pull me off. I slid up his sleeve and saw a new puncture wound on his vein among the many fading scars, which I hoped would be the last to grace his skin. Evidently, I was wrong.
I threw his arm back sharply, unable to look at the sight any more. I turned from him, standing up from the blanket with a low grunt. “God damn it, Holmes. Why?” I whispered, my voice beginning to quiver with emotions I had been holding back since that night, the loss of a great love heavy upon my shoulders. He did not answer. All of those years lost after he uttered those few words.
The dew that settled on my brow once we exited that train into the damp air of Inverness felt like a warning of what I feel now. Now I stand in the shadow of your fame, the mention of your name filling me with shame as I am cursed to remember the man who I tried to protect with my words only to lose him in the process. I held a hand up to my eyes, which were squeezed shut and threatening to leak tears, trying to will them to stay in place. “I will go find Mrs. Valladon.”
He did not turn to look at me as I left, only staring into the water with his sleeve crumpled around his forearm. He seemed unnaturally still, more machine than man. The person people saw when they read of him.