SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

send the doctor home

John saddled up beside Sherlock and glowered at the three dark figures. “How do they know that? You told them?”

Sherlock tilted his mouth towards John’s ear, “Your walk, of course. You’re more observant; doctors have to. Your haircut, how you dress, so and so forth, they just know.”

“Like you?”

“Hmm.”

“And do you know anything about them?”

The tall man stepped out of the line, his hands behind his back, and interrupted in a purposely loud tone. “Is this conversation just meant for two?”

Sherlock gave the man a cheeky smile. “Of course, don’t want you to feel left out. And yes, this is Doctor John Watson. John, this is Andrew Brooklyn. Mastermind of every terrorist group in the Netherlands.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Andrew said, flashing a row of annoyingly white teeth. He had strong features, round chin, and shiny blue eyes that disturbed John greatly.  He had a wry build, not much of muscle, but his limbs looked sleek and fast. Andrew extended a hand and shook John’s hand with one shake. “Do you know why we’re here, Mr. Holmes? Let’s just get the obvious out of the way.”

“Would you like to talk somewhere else?” John advised, afraid someone would see them, especially since it was almost eight o’clock in the morning.

Andrew glanced over at John and shifted his jaw back and forth. John swore he could hear the back of his molars grinding together in irritation. Andrew’s eyes rolled slowly in Sherlock’s direction. “Would your little friend feel safer if we talked someone else? Your apartment, maybe?”

“I was thinking yours,” Sherlock said, stiffening his shoulders. “It’s not like there’ll be a landlady at my place to greet you.”

“Do you have Mrs. Hudson?” John asked eagerly before Sherlock elbowed him in the ribs.

“Of course they don’t.”

Andrew cocked his head in a challenging manner. “Oh, well then, tell me where she is. We all so enjoy being deduced by Sherlock Holmes.” With that, Andrew moved his tongue slowly over his top teeth, sarcastically mimicking sexual flirtation. 

“You never met Mrs. Hudson. In fact, you didn’t kidnap her.”

“Are you sure?” Andrew dared, his smile growing. “What gave it away?”

When John mentioned Mrs. Hudson, you didn’t jump, flinch, or change in color. Usually people do that when a secret has been revealed unintentionally.  Or, you’re probably thinking that you’re just too good to show such human signs. But, let’s say you can avoid giving yourself away through natural reactions. I know you don’t have Mrs. Hudson or Elise or you would’ve asked for Acelya before John even asked about Mrs. Hudson. You didn’t come to trade; you’ve come to take something away without giving something back. Why else would you come with two other men? Even if you did have Mrs. Hudson and Elise, which you don’t, you would still find a way to get Acelya without releasing Elise and Mrs. Hudson. Do I sound like I’m rambling?”

John didn’t reply. To him, Sherlock wasn’t quite sure what to make of the three figures. Perhaps, the detective met his match.

“Alright, Mr. Holmes,” Andrew began, “we have a deal to make with you. Not a trade.”

Sherlock took a step forward. “I’m not working for you.”

“Good one,” Andrew said, impressed. He turned and looked at his comrades, waiting for them to also praise Sherlock. “How did you know that?”

“You’re the leader of the group. You’re the leader in everything. But you’re also a team player. Your clothes and hygiene does not surpass your friends’, most people in higher authorities either do two things: one, act like a pompous king, or two, act like a savior. You’re neither. You just don’t want to be caught. And you need me to cover up your tracks and let you continue to be a notorious gang. The fiercer you are, the harder it is for people to touch you. The biggest question that lies between us is, why me when you know that I’m the one that’ll stop you.”

“That’s it, Sherlock. You figured it out. You can cover our tracks, or we can stop you before you stop us. It’s simple. It’ll be easy, and there’ll be no blood. You come with us, and if you do what we say, we’ll give you Mrs. Hudson and Elise back—untouched.”

John made a move to disagree, but Sherlock held him back with one look. “And John?”

Andrew snickered. “We send the doctor home. And he better not do anything sneaky or we’ll do to his little girl what my brother did to Alana.”

Sherlock glanced over at John, waiting to pounce on him in case the reminding words sent him into a rage. But to Sherlock’s contentment, John stationed himself and did not reply.

“If you want Sherlock to help you, he takes me,” John negotiated.

“Well, then come with us. But that operation will be greatly postponed.” Andrew gave John a patronizing wink.

“Go home, John,” Sherlock said. He turned to John and dropped the gun back in his hands. He stared at the doctor, burning a promise through his eyes that John read as sincere. Sherlock broke the silent conversation between his friend and took one step towards the other men. John’s head made a slight nod to the side, as if begging to accompany, but knew it would be more loyal to stay behind.

The four men turned their backs on John simultaneously and headed down the street. It was eight o’clock and people were already filing out of their houses and the street was lit up with vehicles, noise, and lights. John looked down at the gun in his hand, only to also find Sherlock’s phone. Perplexed, John felt his pocket and found that his phone wasn’t there. He looked back down at Sherlock’s phone and then patted his empty pocket. He understood. Sherlock just gave him his life.