As soon as they were back in New York Sherlock readied himself to go back to Europe. There was something that he needed to look into in Paris and Moscow.
“Leaving so soon?”
Sherlock turned to see Hatch standing, with his arms crossed, in the doorway of the room the Lehrers had set aside for his use whenever he stayed with them.
“I have another lead on Moriarty.” Sherlock stated curtly. Things were still rather tense since the job went south and the crew learned of his true identity.
“Are you leaving just for that reason or are you using that as an excuse not to deal with us?” Hatch asked, shifting his stance and sticking his hands in his pocket.
“I'm going to take down the remnants of a very dangerous criminal.” Sherlock returned to his packing feeling annoyed at the hacker. Sherlock wished he would just leave.
“Avoid the issue - got it.” Hatch gave a thumbs up then sighed. “Look, Will, Sherlock – whatever you want to be called, I get it”
Sherlock rolled his eyes doubting that Hatch even the slightest idea of what was going on. Unfortunately, it appeared that Hatch had more to say, so Sherlock paused his packing and face his visitor. The quicker he was done, the quicker he would be gone.
Seeing he had Sherlock's full attention, Hatch continued. “You're protecting your friends. Sherlock Holmes had to stay dead as you jet set across the world taking down Moriarty’s organization. You didn't know us and you probably only worked with us because of Elle. I get it. But a guy would think that after working with us for almost two years you could trust enough to at least tell us that there was more to your story; not the story itself, just that there was more. There's not a person in this family that have a few secrets.”
Hatch surprised Sherlock with the accuracy of his statement. It hit close to home. But there were just somethings that Sherlock was unwilling to share, especially with them.
“Do you have a point with this?”
“Several actually,” Whatever serious manner that Hatch had adopted was instantly gone and replaced with his usual farcical attitude. “Carleton is still a little miffed, but don't worry, it'll pass. He's always been very protective us, and hates the fact that he can't protect us from ourselves. Do talk with him before you leave.”
Sherlock was tempted throw Hatch out of the room. He had no intention of talking with Carleton. There was always something about that man that Sherlock did not like; granted, he could not place why he disliked Carleton. But everything he saw the hitter interact with Enola, something inside Sherlock turned unpleasantly.
Seeing Sherlock's expression of noncompliance Hatch pulled out the big guns. He drew in a deep breath before saying: “It would mean a lot to Elle.”
Again, that turning feeling inside.
Sherlock said nothing and returned to his packing; an action that he hoped Hatch would take as a cue to leave without another word.
It was moments like these that made Sherlock miss John the most. John understood normal people, normal emotions and the lot; maybe he could even explain to Sherlock why he did not like Carleton.
“My final point, and please think about it before you completely blow it out of your mind,” Hatch did not leave and took a deep breath, prepping himself. “Will you be one of my groomsmen?”
That came out of nowhere.
Sherlock understood that being asked to participate in a wedding party was considered important and an honor, but it was important to normal people and an honor to be put upon a friend.
Sherlock turned back to Hatch. “Why?”
“Because you're one of my closest friends and someone I consider as a brother in arms.” Hatch said it as though it was completely obvious. “Ya'know, when I said 'this family', Sherlock, you are included in that.
“Let me know your answer before you leave, 'kay?” Hatch waved over his shoulder as he left.
Sherlock's mind was racing. He closed the door and paced. He wished, again, that he had his violin to play as he thought.
When Wilhelm first asked Sherlock to assist with a con connected with Moriarty, he had thought it would be one job then he would be off alone, maybe with his sister in tow.
He had not expected the thieves to be so accommodating and accepting of him. Tekla and Hatch were always impressed with his deductions and Carleton even took to teaching Sherlock different fighting techniques.
Despite being taken in by them like some lost puppy, Sherlock kept them at arm's length. He did not want to chat with them or be involved with their activities outside of whatever job they worked together. The only reason he ended up socializing with them was because he could not say no to Enola's requests.
It was always the same. He would say that he could not risk them discovering his identity. She would counter that they would not pry like that.
Waste of time, he returned
Time spent with her. . . please. She stared at him with big, hopeful eyes.
Enola wanted to make up for lost time and Sherlock could not deny her that.
For all his observation and deduction skill Sherlock did not know when the con artists considered him part of their group.
“I have a question,” Sherlock stopped pacing and looked to the door towards the intruding voice. Tekla popped her head in the room.
“What?” He wanted to snap at her, but thought better of it. He did not, however, hide his growing frustration.
“Do you want us to call you 'Sherlock' or 'Will'?” Her question was genuine. “Oh, Amelia wanted me to tell you that you can leave tomorrow and you are to have dinner with the rest of us.”
Typical Amelia, always insisting on what she referred to as 'family time'. Sherlock huffed in annoyance as he turned away.
“Amelia said the food will be ready in about twenty minutes,” Tekla continued with a quieter voice; uncertainty and concern traced her voice. “You can tell us which name you prefer when you come down.”
When Sherlock turned back Tekla had already left and closed the door.