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A feeling of being warm and safe was engulfing him, entirely. He looks at his beloved violin… At his microscope… The familiar odours of tea, chemicals and biscuits surrounding everything.
After his eyes stop on his skull, he starts to read all the titles of the many books on the bookshelves.
That book by Smith, Human Physiology – rubbish!, that great black book about terrorism, Criminal Law, Family Law, Land Law… Arthur Me’s Children’s Encyclopedia… Ten Most Wanted, not ten anymore as I found 6 of them… Oxford English Dictionary, of course, and that London A-Z book that John and I used for that case…
John’s books… about Vietnam, World History and other nonsense…
Shakespeare… Without opening any plays, Sherlock recite ‘I could not wish any companion in the world but you' Is it in Hamlet? No… The Tempest. And King Lear! ‘Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty’ This is utterly beautiful... 'Dearer than liberty'… Good old Shakespeare’s always right!
A flash of pain brought him back to the present… He opens his eyes, the images of Baker Street now gone… replaced by darkness and his captors in a filthy cell...
Oh yes, the Fall, leaving John behind, Serbia…
Unable to summon again the peaceful 221b in his Mind Palace, Sherlock's eyes fall on the ground, already tainted red by his blood.