`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Sherlock Holmes was lying on the sofa with his hands resting together against his lips and chin, his thumbs resting under his chin. He was thinking about Moriarty. Who was Moriarty? It was what consumed his thoughts right now. It was not for nothing, it was for everything. As I watched Sherlock think and think and think, I thought to myself, This man I see before me, he is as obsessed with Moriarty as Moriarty is with him.
It was not a new sight to my eyes but it is one that I don't think I will ever forget. It is clearer to me now that he will always be looking for an answer. Whether it is for the cases that he works or for finding out who his biggest fan is, he puts the same amount of work in each. The same amount of gusto, the same work ethic, the same passion and determination that I have grown accustomed to.
"John," Sherlock spoke for the first time in two days.
"So the creature finally speaks! What do you want Sherlock?" I said annoyed. I shouldn't have been but I was.
"I need my phone."
"Where is it?"
"Table."
"Sherlock, it's about two feet away."
"I'm thinking."
I trudged over and handed him the phone.
He nodded his head in acknowledgement; it was nearly imperceptible, but it was better than nothing, I suppose.
He began scrolling through his texts making little comments out loud. "Mycroft must be getting a crown this time. He should really stop eating those "Sugar Free" muffins. The aspartame is rotting his teeth."
"Lestrade, look for the woman with pink finger nails and green gardening gloves."
"Forget him he's an idiot."
"The butler did it."
These were all distractions from the primary issue. It was the shower principle without the running water.
He set the phone on the coffee table and set his hands to his temples, rubbing his fingers in a circular motion. He started muttering in angry sounding gibberish.
A while later I learned that it was Klingon. Sherlock had become fluent while working on a case at a Star Trek convention. It was the only language the witnesses were willing to speak, not wanting to break character. They started calling Sherlock "Khan" for some reason.
My phone beeped. It was Harry wondering if we could meet for lunch tomorrow. I texted back yes. I had barely seen her in the past three months. While we were never close, once she had stopped drinking we had begun to realize we had the capability to be more than just civil to each other. We could have a "normal" brother/sister relationship.
I went into the kitchen to make some tea but couldn't find any clean mugs. Sherlock had been using them for an experiment. For some reason there were some with eyeballs floating and eyeballs that had sunk to the bottom of the mugs.
"Sherlock, why are all the mugs filled with eyeballs?"
He stopped rubbing his temples and muttering. He opened his eyes and looked at me as if the answer was obvious.
"Sherlock, I can't read your mind."
"Experiment," he answered rolling his eyes.
"No shit Sherlock. But why eyes? In mugs!" I questioned.
"Bored," he answered monotonously.
"You're always bored! Next time you want to experiment with mugs, leave one so I can drink my tea!" I breathed. Living with Sherlock was like living with a child.
"You know what, I'm going out for a bit. Try not to blow anything up or shoot at any walls before I get back." I put on my light jacket as it looked like it was going to rain, and walked out.
~(CHANGE OF POV)~
"Alas poor Yorick! I knew him, Horario." Sherlock said to the skull. He had gotten up from the sofa and walked to the mantle. He loved to talk to the skull. It was a way for him to have human contact without human contact.
He walked over to John's computer, as it was closer than this own, turned it on and typed in the password (stopusingmycomputerSherlock), and logged on to his website to update with a post about tattoo ink.
He decided to check his email, something he hadn't done for almost a year. Most of the emails were spam mail which was deleted immediately. The emails he did open up were just confirmation emails that his updates to his website had been successful.
There was a group of emails that was not sent through the website, however. Sherlock quickly deduced that they were going to be untraceable by IP address. He also deduced that they would not carry a virus. He saw that he would sometimes get more than one a day. Sometimes he wouldn't even get an email for weeks from this anonymous person. He clicked to open the first one that was sent; its date indicated it was from nine months before
1st email
Hello, can't believe I didn't realize you had an email account. But now that I've found it…I'll leave you to deduce that Sherly.
He deleted that one. He skipped down to the 15th email.
15th email
Sherly, why aren't you responding to me? I'm ready to listen, if you're ready to talk.
He deleted that one too. He decided to check one more email.
75th email
Still not responding to me?! Doesn't matter. I saw you today. You look beautiful when you think. You should stop wasting your time with Dr. Watson. He doesn't appreciate your genius like he should. Like how I do. Trusting though, your Doctor Watson is. That's a GREAT quality. I wish my boyfriend could be like that. But alas he knows my true self. He wouldn't trust me as far as he can throw me, in bed. He's loyal, though, like John. That must be why you like him so much. John, not my boyfriend. Loyalty is a very attractive quality. Wouldn't you agree?
As Sherlock was reading the 75th email, he got another one. He usually wouldn't open it, but he decided why not? He was just going to delete it anyway.
Finally reading your emails! Took you long enough. I was wondering if you'd forgotten me. Though that is doubtful. I've decided to set up a little game. Find me Sherlock. Find me.
P.S. Win the game, get the grand prize. Solve the riddles.
Riddle 1:
The monster is at the end of the book
Come find me to see what I took
Where am I
Riddle 2:
The monster at the end of the book
The noble doctor has now took
To catch the fiend behind this scheme
To waken from this awful dream
To save your Doctor from sure harm
Use your exquisite looks and charm
Your brain will deceive you
Don't try to over think
Everything will Sherly change
If you only blink
Two cubes you now must find
Each of a separate kind
In order to save the Doctor King
The Jabberwock Chessboard is the thing!
Three Pawns on the side of right
Followed by the gentle Knight
Leading forth the cunning Rook
Trailéd by the wise Bishop
The King is helpless you have seen
And requires rescue from his Queen
Sherlock got up from the computer and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. He quickly typed John's number. The phone rang seven times before going to voicemail. Frustrated, Sherlock ended the call. He was about to call Lestrade, when Lestrade's number popped up on his phone. He answered it.
"Lestrade, I'm very busy at the moment, and you know that I prefer texting."
"It's not about a case Sherlock, it's about an email. Why are you sending strange emails around the department? I've already gotten two complaints today."
"I didn't send any emails-stay right where you are. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Sherlock hung up the phone, grabbed his coat and scarf, and stuck his phone in his pocket. He stalked out the door and hailed a cab to see the department of police.
~15 minutes later~
"Show me the emails," Sherlock said upon seeing Lestrade.
"As always Sherlock, your salutations are riveting. Come on, to my office," Lestrade said. He led Sherlock to the office, the emails already on his desk monitor. Anderson and Sally were standing behind the desk looking at the computer.
Upon entering the office, Sherlock rudely said, "What are they doing here?"
"We got the other emails you sent, freak," Sally said curtly.
"Show them to me," Sherlock said flatly. "And I didn't send any emails to you."
"Then who did? Anderson asked.
"No idea. The emails, please." Sherlock walked behind the desk and saw the first one.
Email one: Lestrade:
This division you are not
You are merely a point in my plot
A Pawn you are to help the Queen
To help wake him from this dream
A way to help save his loyal King
Email two: Donavan:
Pick yourself up and dust yourself off
Though you think the Queen mad
Don't be too cross
To find the king
And to find me
Email three: Anderson:
You should take this with a grain of salt
None of this is your fault
Yet you are needed
But not to lead
That's the Queen's play
Go on
You have to help out
Go on make my day
Don't try to get out of it
Don't you dare pout
Sherlock read the emails twice.
"Do you know what it means Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.
"Yes."
"Are you going to be sharing that information with us?" Anderson asked, rolling his eyes at the consulting detective.
"Yes," Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed. "You three are the 'pawns on the side of right.'"
"The Pawns? On the what? The who? What are you saying Sherlock?"
"Before you called I got an email-"
"Oh, Freak has a friend," Sally interrupted.
"As I was saying, I got an email that said 'Two cubes you know must find, each of a separate kind, in order to save the Doctor King, the Jabberwock Chessboard is the thing, three Pawns on the side of right, followed by the gentle Knight, leading forth the cunning Rook, trailéd by the wise Bishop, the King is helpless you have seen, and requires rescue from his Queen." Sherlock paused for a moment, then continued."So obviously this is the sender telling me that you three are 'the Pawns on the side of right.'"
"What the hell does that mean?" Anderson asked.
"Who's the 'Doctor King'?" Sally said at the same time.
"The Jabberwock reference refers to Lewis Carrol, he wrote a nonsense poem entitled "Jabberwocky," or at least that's what it could be. I haven't seen or heard the word being referenced in anything else other than in the Alice in Wonderland or Through the Looking Glass stories." Lestrade supplied.
Sally, Anderson and Sherlock looked at Lestrade.
"I read the stories as a kid, alright! I did have a life before I became a D.I., and yes, that does include a childhood," Lestrade said. He added the last part for Sherlock, who didn't really care that Lestrade was once a child. Since Sherlock had only known Lestrade as an adult, he didn't care about the time that he hadn't known Lestrade.
"Right," Sherlock said regaining his composure. "It does reference Lewis Carrol. Hence the Jabberwock reference. And the fictional world of Wonderland was designed to "look" like a chessboard."
It was time for Sally, Anderson and Lestrade to now stare at Sherlock.
"Contrary to your belief, I wasn't beamed down from the mother-ship."
Anderson's face reddened. He had been talking to the people of the department about how he didn't think Sherlock was human. He didn't know Sherlock has heard the rumor.
"Who are the gentle Knight and the cunning Rook? Who's the wise Bishop?" Lestrade asked.
"I don't know yet," Sherlock admitted. His phone beeped. He answered it.
"Hello…What email-never mind…Where can I meet you? Really, again? Well alright." Sherlock said into his phone.
Lestrade, Sally and Anderson looked at the consulting detective. He put his phone back into his pocket and looked up at them.
"What?"
"You nearly sounded human!?" Anderson said.
"We all have our flaws."
"Better be off. Oh and do be at the ready, I'll be in need of assistance quite soon I suppose."
Sherlock walked out of the police department and got into the car that was waiting for him, sent by his brother.
He walked into the Diogenes Club and entered the Strangers Room. It was the only room in the club where it was allowed to speak.
"Ah, Sherlock," Mycroft said, putting down his tea.
"Mycroft, the email."
"Not even a 'Hello!' In any case, I've printed the email out for you."
Mycroft's Email:
British Government or not
I've roped you in as part of my plot
Don't you be mean
Or Down with the Bloody Red Queen
(Get Sherlock)
Sherlock read through the email twice.
"You know what this means of course," Mycroft said taking a sip of tea.
"Of course I know what it means!"
"John's been kidnapped…by Moriarty…and now I have to help or it will cost me my life, or more importantly my job." Mycroft said. "Ask me."
Sherlock blinked. "What?"
"You heard me," Mycroft said. "Ask me." There was a beat of silence. "Well, go on."
"Will you help me?" Sherlock asked through gritted teeth.
"Yes, I'll help you. Now was that so hard?"
"Yes, it was extremely painful."
Mycroft chuckled. "You were always overdramatic."
Sherlock's phone beeped. It was a message from Molly. Sherlock had asked her to keep an eye on an experiment of his. He was pleased to hear that the results were ready.
"Goodbye Mycroft. I hope you enjoy the food. I hear they have an excellent pudding," Sherlock said, sauntering out of the room.
~At St. Bart's~
"Hello Sherlock. I have the results for your experiment. It's quite interesting really, 'Coagulation of blood in lungs with a comparison of smokers versus nonsmokers.'"
"Yes it was rather fascinating, wasn't it?"
"Only you would think about this. It's quite strange…speaking of strange, what was with the email you sent me?" Molly asked.
"What? I never sent you an email! Can I see it?" Sherlock asked.
"Sure." Molly went around to her computer and put the email on the screen.
Molly's email:
Galloping on your mighty horse
Fearless to help your Queen of course
The moves you have come in three
Come and play my game with me
O lovely knight
Don't fear the fight
No harm shall come
To such a pure sweet dove
You'll help save the king
When push comes to shove
"Do you know what it means?" Molly asked.
"I have found my gentle knight," Sherlock answered.
"Thank you?" Molly replied, confused.
"I mean you're going to…I mean you're supposed to help save John, I can't do this without you," Sherlock stuttered.
"What happen to John?" Molly asked.
"Kidnapped, again, by Moriarty."
"Oh I'll help you alright. Moriarty is a creep!" Molly shuddered in anger. "Why does he even kidnap him? You'd think that Moriarty get bored repeating an action he's already done,"
"You know what they said about insanity: that it's doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results," Sherlock answered.
"Didn't Einstein say that?" Molly asked.
"He did, but I felt it accurately described the situation."
"You're not wrong. Well go on. Go save John. Don't worry, your gentle knight is on your side."
"Molly Hooper, you are amazing."
"I know," Molly smiled.
Sherlock left the morgue and went back to Baker St. If anything he needed to look into John's email to see if Moriarty sent John any of the emails.
~At Baker St.~
In the mind palace, unaware of his surroundings, Sherlock's body was completely ridged. His heart thumped in his chest as his brain sorted through the information to help save John. His muscles were not in use as his brain, his most important muscle, made connections. The one thing that was abundantly clear above all else was the lack of his "wise Bishop." He absentmindedly got up from the sofa and walked to his violin. It was a Stradivarius, a gift from his mother and the most beautiful thing he owned. He started playing, staring out of the window, and not looking at anything in particular, letting his body take control of the instrument and stringing together a melody. His muscle memory relished in the familiar movements, but his ears barely registered the sound as he moved his fingers and the bow expertly along the instrument. He considered the Strad to be an extension of his mind and body, a way to say things without speaking and think without distractions, a way to emote without those pesky emotions.
"Sherlock, dear, are you okay?" Mrs. Hudson asked, snapping Sherlock out of his trance.
"Mrs. Hudson? I didn't hear you come in."
"I knocked for two minutes, but you probably didn't hear me over your violin. But are you okay sweetie?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"What do you mean?"
"That song was very, very sad. I felt as though I'd lost something while listening to it…something important."
"Oh, I didn't realize."
"Were you in your mind palace again dear?"
"Yes. What did you want to ask me?" Sherlock asked.
"How did you know that I wanted to ask you something?"
"You never enter my flat unless I've yelled for you, John asked you to come up to check on me or you need something. You also won't come up unless I'm making a racket and even then you wait to be invited in. I haven't yelled for you. John hasn't asked you to check on me. Ergo you need something."
"Yes, I need you to explain this letter. Why did you send such a strange message? Is it for another experiment?"
"What letter? Can I see it?" Sherlock asked.
"Um, of course dear," Mrs. Hudson said, confused. "I'll just go and get it."
Sherlock waited ten minutes for Mrs. Hudson to get the letter. A letter; she didn't text even though her phone had the capabilities, she didn't really care for computers, her age gave that away.
"Here you are Sherlock, the letter," Mrs. Hudson said as she gave Sherlock the letter.
Mrs. Hudson's Letter:
A wise woman forced in a diagonal line
Something has been taken
From the Queen
Now it's mine.
Help the Queen play the game
For it is afoot
If you try to get out of helping
The King will be kaput.
A Bishop you are
Both the King's and the Queen's
Even if they both
Can get a little mean.
You love them just as much
As you do your own
You will help bring the King
Safely home.
"So Sherlock, do you know what it means?"
"It means you are the Wise Bishop."
"And what does that mean?"
"John's been kidnapped by Moriarty. Again. And now he's making me enlist the help of others to save him. You are apparently the Wise Bishop," Sherlock supplied.
"Apparently? You don't sound happy about that."
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"Oh Sherlock, that's so sweet of you to worry about me. But I'm tougher than I look. And it's John we need to help."
"You mean you'll help?"
"Well of course I'm going to help! You expect me to let you have all the fun? I may be older than you Sherlock, but I'm not going to let anybody harm John on my watch."
"Alright then, you're right."
"Now get to work. I'll make you a cuppa."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."
Sherlock went to John's computer and logged on to his website. He went to update his site:
I have found the pieces to the Jabberwock Chessboard.
Sherlock's phone beeped.
It's time now Alice. Now that you've fallen down the rabbit hole you have twenty four hours. Tick Tock.