Chapter IX - The connection

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Felina, Felina.... what does it mean? I had my long arms raised, the letter resting in my hands, and my back against the bed that belonged to a stranger. I entered my Mind Palace. There had to be something that could help me in there.

Connection to a friend

Mike Stamford Harriet Watson? Felina Etymology

Fe - Latin ferrum, iron.

Lina - Arabic, young, palm tree.

- Greek, olive.

My mind was completely scattered, being of no use other than to aggravate myself. My eyes seemed to always wonder to the letter in my hands, all thoughts leading to John. I was going through too many emotions at once, too many thoughts entering my mind. Bloody sentiment.

All thoughts were exterminated once I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the room. I'd forgotten that it wasn't my room. I swayed my legs off of the bed, and found a way out of the uncomfortable situation that would have soon arisen.

Once I exited the horrid hotel I was among a crowd of bystanders. I was walking on a path, placing the letter into my pocket when I heard a few people murmur my name, and point at the famous detective. It didn't bother in the least. I was used to the flock of pigeons that are called humans.

I reluctantly pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering around Mycroft's name. I looked up to see a cab driving closer to me as I hailed it down. Leaves were left scattered on the roof, a few falling below me as I pulled at the door. The sound of a flash rung in my ears. I was thankful that I didn't have that bloody deerstalker hat.

"You're popular," the middle aged drive roared. She smiled through cracked teeth, unaware of who I am.

"Take me to Baker street," I answered tersely. I finally pressed Mycroft's name, his caller ID appearing brightly on my phone.

"Sherlock, what a... surprise. I wasn't expecting you to be the first to call. Not after your abrupt exit on our last phone call." Mycroft answered his phone almost immediately. Despite all that he says, he really doesn't do much.

"How's that diet going for you, brother? You sound as if your chewing something." There was a brief silence that filled the car, but only for a second. I could just imagine Mycroft composing himself as he swallowed down whatever lavish food he was eating. "Now that you've finished eating I'll ask if you know anything - or anyone - called 'felina'."

There was that pauses again, that flicker of hesitation. "I don't believe such a thing exists."

'I'm not asking what you believe, I'm -"

"I know what you're asking for, and you're not getting it. Access to government files is for cases of utmost importance, not for childish games." I held my tongue, a bitter response to give Mycroft before I hung up. That would no good though. Just as I was about to end the call, Mycroft spoke. "Before you leave in a haste again, you might want to hear this." Silence. "John has been spotted at St Woolos cemetery."

I would say that my heart skipped a beat at the mention of John and I being within the same radius, but I knew that such figure of speech was ridiculous in the literal sense. "I was supposedly buried in that cemetery. That means.."

"That means that he's right under our noses."

~

Authors note:

I'm sorry for such a sucky chapter. I promise that the next one will be better!

Thanks for reading :)

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