Beauty and the High-Functioning Sociopath {#PFCC2k16}

Alex in Danger

"Why not?" Child Sherlock asked.

"You saw the whole room when you entered it." Mycroft said. "What was directly behind you when you were murdered?"

"Not been murdered yet!" Child Sherlock said.

"Balance of probability, little brother." Mycroft said. Sherlock became an adult again and looked behind him. "If the bullet had passed through you, what would you have heard?"

"The mirror shattering." Sherlock said.

"You didn't." Mycroft said. "Therefore..."

"The bullet's still inside me." Sherlock said.

"So we need to take him down backwards." Anderson said.

"I agree. Sherlock, you need to fall on your back." Molly said.

"Right now, the bullet is the cork in a bottle." Anderson said.

"The bullet itself is blocking most of the blood flow." Molly said.

"But any pressure or impact on the entrance wound could dislodge it." Anderson said.

"Plus, on your back, gravity is working for us." Molly said. "Fall now."

Sherlock fell backwards. Once he hit the ground, a sense of confusion and fear came over him. There was a ringing in his ears and he backed up in his mind palace.

"What is that? What's happening?" He asked. He sounded like a frightened child.

"You're going into shock. It's the next thing that's going to kill you." Molly said.

"What do I do?" Sherlock asked.

"Don't go into shock, obviously." Mycroft said. "Must be something in this ridiculous memory palace of yours that can calm you down. Find it." Sherlock searched through all his memories for something to calm him down. "The east wind is coming, Sherlock. It's coming to get you."

Sherlock opened one door. Mary was in a wedding dress and she shot him. Sherlock remembered how much John getting married had hurt him and guessed that this was a metaphor for it. He ran to another door and opened it. A beautiful Irish Setter was sitting at the end of a hall. Sherlock got down on his knees.

"Hello, Redbeard! Here, boy! Come on, come to me!" Sherlock said, patting his knees. "It's okay, it's all right!" The dog got up and barked, running to Sherlock. "Come on, it's me! Good boy, clever boy! Hello, Redbeard. They're putting me down, too, now. It's no fun, is it, Redbeard?" (Do you hear that? It's just the sound of my heart shattering.) Sherlock fell back. Pain ripped through him, worse than anything he had ever felt in his life. He screamed and convulsed.

"Without the shock, you're going to feel the pain. There's a hole ripped inside you, massive internal bleeding." Molly said. "You have to control the pain."

Sherlock went to a padded cell in his mind palace. This was one of his worse memories, one of the ones he didn't like to talk about. Someone was chained up in the corner.

"Control, control, control!" Sherlock said. He looked at the person on the other side of the cell. It was Moriarty. "You. You never felt pain, did you? Why did you never feel pain?"

"You always feel it, Sherlock." Moriarty said, turning his head. His face and his hair were greasy. He ran up to him, shreiking like a velociraptor. "But you don't have to fear it!"

Sherlock collapsed on the ground, groaning in pain. Hot tears poured out of his eyes. He had never felt anything this terrible before. Moriarty leaned over him.

"Pain. Heartbreak. Loss. Death." He said. "It's all good. It's all good."

Meanwhile, Alex was still crying and John was trying to get Sherlock to wake up. He hit his cheek gently.