Don't Stray From The Light

Not Your Job To Fight Back

"Will what I say be held against me?" Sherlock wondered apprehensively.
"It depends what you say." Greg said with a little smirk; however he already looked excited, as if his predictions were beginning to materialize before his very eyes. All Sherlock had to do was say the words he had been expecting to hear.
"I will say nothing of myself, yet as for Victor Trevor I do believe his intentions were of the romantic nature." Sherlock admitted, keeping his posture straight despite his odd urge to curl into a small, protective ball. He was beginning to feel more exposed than ever, purely because now it was the company he kept which was being investigated, and their traits may very well lead to his own. However apprehensive Sherlock was of admitting his homosexuality now, in front of Greg, he suspected that the consequences down the road might be more serious than the ones presented in the near future. Surely they would not hang him for information given to them on demand?
"Romantic? So you suspect Mr. Trevor to have been a homosexual?" Greg questioned, writing down Sherlock's response all the same.
"You speak of him, Mr. Lestrade, as if he were already dead." Sherlock pointed out, leaning forward on the desk to which Greg automatically leaned back, terrified it would seem of getting anywhere close to Sherlock. That would explain his odd behavior in the carriage; he was expecting Sherlock to make some sort of pass at him, wasn't he? Well just how pathetic was that? The mere thought that Sherlock would be interested in a man who was so harshly interrogating him, and treating him as though he was little more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe! No, that was what men didn't understand, that even though a man might be interested in men, it didn't always mean that they were the target in question.
"Do you suspect Mr. Trevor is a homosexual?" Greg corrected, not sounding all too thrilled about having been called out in such a way.
"I believe that Mr. Trevor had romantic urges towards men, certainly, yet I cannot entirely speak for his urges for women." Sherlock admitted finally.
"That's a yes." Greg decided, scrawling down something that looked suspiciously like the hand motion of a check mark before continuing. "And he told you of this, he made...advances?"
"He said nothing of it, however I had my suspicions. Being as though it's a common occurrence, I'm always rather good at discovering when people are in love with me." Sherlock admitted ever modestly. Greg chuckled, however he seemed more angered by Sherlock's comment than genuinely amused by it. John, on the other hand, merely hung his head in something of shame, his hands having balled up in fists moments before. It was obvious that he was struggling now with being in such close proximity to Sherlock, after that week of stagnation in which he told himself that Mary came first, that Mary was the most important one in his life. It was difficult for him now to realize once more that he was wrong.
"And despite these suspicions you still took him back to your house that night, for a drink?" Greg clarified with a suspicious raise of his eyebrows. It would seem as if he already knew what he was going for, yet he was going to take the longest, most agonizing route he could manage to get there.
"I was curious to see what would happen." Sherlock admitted truthfully.
"Would you have accepted his advances, should he have made any?" Greg asked, keeping his gaze low and far away from Sherlock's eyes as he asked. Sherlock sighed for a moment, looking towards John for help once more and finding that none would be coming from him either.
"If I answer yes, am I in danger of being charged with indecency?" Sherlock wondered carefully, looking towards Greg once more so as to gauge his response. For a moment the detective was silent, for while he wanted so badly to arrest Sherlock it wasn't like he was making this any easier for him. He wasn't here to be arrested for homosexuality, he was here on behalf of trying to solve these murders, and however much Greg might want to see Sherlock locked up as soon as possible he wouldn't really be much help if he was arrested. So Greg sighed heavily, shaking his head in defeat as if he hated to give Sherlock that upper hand.
"No, I won't arrest you for that." Greg promised. Sherlock nodded in satisfaction, taking a deep breath before shrugging his shoulders in an innocent sort of way.
"Yes I do believe that I would have accepted him." Sherlock agreed. Greg nodded, writing something down before looking over to John for the first time, as if trying to clarify something between the two through little more than eye contact. When John didn't glance up Greg looked back to Sherlock, sighing heavily as if he might have expected not only that answer from Sherlock, but also that reaction from John.
"Mr. Holmes, do you classify yourself as a homosexual?" Greg wondered finally, brave enough now to lift his eyes to meet Sherlock's yet only for a moment. For when Sherlock's eyes met his Greg lost his confidence, and with a quick gulp he settled his eyes back down to the notebook that he had clenched in his hands. Sherlock sighed heavily, looking towards John as discreetly as possible to see the man's fingers tapping against the wall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he was having a difficult time being in this room with Sherlock while listening to all of these confessions. Sherlock would like to admit to having the same increasing impulses; however with the added questions that were being thrown in his direction he really couldn't afford to be distracted right now, John's presence had to wait.
"Yes Detective, I do." Sherlock admitted in a breath. Greg nodded, his hand shaking nervously as he wrote that down in his notebook, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.
"Have you had any contact with either of these men listed here, in the past three years?" Greg asked finally, seeming eager to switch the topic of conversation as he flipped back a couple of pages and held out the notebook for Sherlock to read. He looked upon the eight names in question, the men that had fallen into his arms and therefore become his property, all of the men dating back to the first, the beautiful Tobias Gregson. He knew that he would be suspected if he denied all such claims he would immediately be pegged as suspicious, however if he rattled off all the encounters he had with all of them he would undoubtedly be pegged as guilty. Somehow then, he was tasked with fining the happy medium. The range that an innocent man would fall under in this situation.
"Well yes, some of them I am aware of, others I've only seen in the papers and whatnot. Mr. Clay had approached me before, as had Mr. Hopkins, and Mr. Knight." Sherlock admitted with a bit of a frown, looking towards the other names that were quite familiar to him yet shaking his head in denial. "The others I cannot claim to have any personal acquaintance with, yet they might have crossed my path one time or another at the brothel. I cannot be quite sure."
"When you say these men approached you, did you have a romantic relationship with them?" Greg wondered apprehensively, almost as if he did not want to know the answer despite his asking it.
"Yes Detective, I did." Sherlock agreed. He could almost sense a chill going down Greg's spine, however he hastily took back his notebook and flipped back to the appropriate page, taking some notes before looking back up to Sherlock with a whole new look of curiosity in his eye.
"Alright." Greg agreed, evidently just trying to clear the air of the awkward words that still hung heavy. Sherlock was feeling rather like a trapped animal, for while he knew that talking was his best way to appear cooperative he had never intended on outing himself so easily to a man who would surely arrest him for such a thing. Despite his instance that he would not arrest Sherlock on charges of homosexuality, surely his answers would lead him to find connections between Sherlock and the rest of the men, ultimately leading to his hanging for the crimes he had committed against God and humanity.
"What is it about Lady Irene's that draws in homosexuals? It's curious that they would all congregate where women were most prevalent." Greg pointed out, thinking back to what Sherlock had said about the brothel and his having noticed some of the listed men there. Sherlock just shrugged, looking towards John to see if his position had even changed a bit.
"Well while there are women there, there are also men who have become quite desperate for a companion. There is only one place in the city that ensures that everyone there is looking for love, and so we take our chances there." Sherlock admitted.
"We?" Greg clarified.
"Homosexuals." Sherlock muttered finally, feeling his cheeks glow red with a sort of embarrassment he was not used to. He was not usually ashamed of who he was, however Greg was so quick to put a label on him and the men like him, so quick to presume that they were all monsters that he hadn't had time to consider that maybe they were all just as human as he was. Homosexuals and heterosexuals alike, well the only thing different between them was their taste in partner!
"And do you suspect there to be any rouges out there, a man that might be getting violent, aggressive even, when he chooses his partners? Have you and your um...likeminded folks taken into consideration that you might be targeted next?" Greg wondered with a raise of his eyebrow. Sherlock smiled rather nervously, nodding his head while thinking of the appropriate way to respond.
"In all honesty Mr. Lestrade, being preyed on by our own kind is the least of our worries. It is more the public scrutiny, and the constraints of the law, that keep us at bay. A man that has been taking homosexuals, if there was such a thing, has not yet been announced to me. Yet now that a connection has been made, I will surely keep a wary eye out." Sherlock admitted finally. John heaved a great sigh from the back of the room, the closest thing to a word he had said the whole time, and drew Sherlock's eyes to him once more. This time when Sherlock looked at him he was met with a gaze, one that looked rather like the gaze that had been shared between them both the night when everything had changed. The gaze that had been followed up by a passionate, even aggressive, kiss.
"Thank you Mr. Holmes, you have been most helpful. John, do you think you could step out with me now and look over these notes?" Greg suggested, getting to his feet and looking towards John in an almost cold manner, as if he was angry with him for whatever reason.
"And no one to accompany Mr. Holmes?" John clarified, seeming rather anxious to stay.
"I would like to discuss with you the information which we have learned, so as to create more questions that might prove useful." Greg snapped, this time not making any attempts at trying to be friendly. It would seem as though something had put a divider in the friendship that Sherlock had previously observed to be strong.
"I wasn't listening all that much. I'm sure however, that Janine might be happy to help." John said with a little snap. Greg glared at him, pocketing his notebook all the same and storming towards the door in something of a little rage.
"I need to go through the files, if you will excuse me for a moment. John maybe, since you were not listening to my investigation, you would like to conduct your own in my absence?" Greg wondered in a very cool voice, sounding as though he was accusing John of something, yet of what Sherlock was not entirely sure. Yet with that he seemed to be satisfied, and he started off into the hallway with a slam of the door and a dramatic huff, as if John's refusal to cooperate was driving him momentarily insane. As soon as he had disappeared John stepped forward, towards the desk near where Greg was sitting all while Sherlock rose to his feet, both overcome with some sort of urgency that could not be explained. It was the atmosphere, oh it must be, the feeling of being trapped in this tiny, dimly lit room with the secrets that were pouring from their very skin, confessions that would be made into reality and things that were supposed to be kept a secret! It was all too much for the both of them, that was for sure.
"Is it secure in here?" Sherlock wondered all while John was moving around the table, taking long strides despite his short stature and appearing a lot closer much quicker than Sherlock had prepared himself for.
"Yes, yes it's fine." John promised, and with that he took Sherlock's face in his hands, shoving him against the desk and kissing him so ferociously that it was a wonder he hadn't exploded during the interview. All these pent up feelings, for so long, well it was simply impressive that he could contain himself! And yet here it came, all the emotions, all the power, that had been suppressed for the week they had been apart. Sherlock kissed him back, or at least he tried, for once more he found that he was hopelessly outmatched when it came to strength and ferociousness. John kissed like he was starved of human intimacy, as if he hadn't shared a kiss and wasn't due for another one in many years. He kissed Sherlock as if every waking moment of his life had been spent aching for such a thing, practically chewing off Sherlock's lips before his hands lifted poor Sherlock up onto the desk, effortlessly and passionately, so that he could at least sit at the same level that John was standing at. It was a wild sort of kiss, lasting not nearly long enough, for almost as soon as if had begun John flung himself off once more, falling into the chair at the other side of the room while Sherlock regained his own seat, both of them trying to contain their breathing while they knew as well that it was futile. Their hearts were beating out of their chests, their lips red and puffy after mere minutes, and they were both gasping for the breath that had been stolen from them in those precious few moments together! Sherlock had no idea how John knew when Greg was going to return, yet just after they had managed to situate themselves in positions that might seem natural the door opened once more, and in stormed Greg with a file in his hands and a frown on his face. He looked upset, for it was evident that his investigation had gotten him nowhere, and instead of entering he merely held the door open with his outstretched foot.
"You're free to go, Mr. Holmes. However I do warn you, that while your confessions do not affect you now, such practices are still very much illegal. I advise you to change your lifestyle to be a bit more...socially acceptable." Greg suggested, however Sherlock could only smile in a bit of an insulted way. He knew that Greg wasn't intentionally calling him a freak, yet it certainly did come off as such. Sherlock got to his feet without a word, looking towards John and feeling his breath got caught in his throat once more.
"Mr. Lestrade I certainly do hope you know that is an almost impossible feat. It is not a matter of choice, rather one of biology, that makes a person love who they love. It is out of my control to change my taste, yet it is in my power to satisfy it. Just like all the rest of those desperate men at Lady Irene's, just because I have fallen prey to my own urges does not mean that I intend on fighting back." Sherlock admitted finally. He looked towards John once more, just so as to allow his eyes to feast in the man's golden aura once more, and smiled a bit softly. "Despite that, my house will be quite empty tonight. Lonely, even." It was obvious that Greg didn't know how to respond to that, yet John nodded sharply, as he understood that to be his invitation. It was rather sneaky on both of their parts, arranging a meeting right under the nose of the detective that was trying to insist on remaining romantically inactive for the time being, yet it was necessary, couldn't he see? Loving other people had become to Sherlock more of a necessity, he had become not just favorable of it, but dependent! It was to him as important as eating and sleeping; it was a part of his day that simply could not be avoided! And so John would come to him, he knew that he would because it would seem as though it had become every bit of a necessity to John as it was to Sherlock. And that nod said it all. So Sherlock thanked the two men for their discretion and their hospitality (however poor it had proven to be) before walking back out the way he had come, this time unescorted. He paused for just a moment to look back at the bulletin board where he saw that there was now a check mark next to a crossed out question mark occupying a beautifully drawn portrait of Victor Trevor. Evidently that was marking their newfound reassurance that he was indeed caught up in all this illegal activity, the activities of the men whose pictures were pinned up next to him on the board. Greg must assume that they were all dead; he must assume that the moment their pictures were joined with the others they were living horrible experiences, if they were living at all! Little did he know that every man up there, every beautiful face and every familiar name was housed carefully and safely in the attic of the Holmes manor.