Sherlock’s mouth felt dry and he wanted to weep, but he just sat there in silence. When he finally looked over at Mycroft, tears were coursing down his face and without a word he took his brother’s hand. A half-hour later, and that’s where Mrs. Hudson found them, frozen in terror like garden gnomes.
“Sherlock, Mycroft, what’s happened? Is it John? Is he?”
Sherlock dropped his brother’s ice cold hand. “It’s okay, Mrs. Hudson, John is still with us, but I have puzzles to solve, and things to remember. Now both of you get out.”
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