Like a fortress
(Part 6 of Little Sherlock)
It was only afternoon but going by the heavy rain outside with the black clouds covering the sky it could well have been night time. John sat with a freshly made tea in his chair while William was playing with Mr. Bee.
The child had started to trust that John would not run away the second he wasn't in his line of sight anymore. John was now allowed to go to the bathroom alone and could make himself a tea without being followed or questioned why he had moved. John wasn't sure what his little friend was playing but Mr. Bee appeared to be the one giving orders.
William had pulled out the chairs from under the table and pushed them in front of it. He collected a few of the shock blankets that had found their way into the flat and lots of books. He laid the corner of the blanket at the edge of the table and placed the books on the fabric to secure it. The blanket was then laid over the chair and made a sort of wall between the living room and the area under the table. William went on doing this with the other two sides of the table so making his own little hiding place under the table.
The next step was to collect more blankets and cushions to make a comfortable home. John was now watching openly after having at the beginning pretended to read the paper.
"William, do you need help? That looks heavy." John asked as William came into the living room with all the pillows from Sherlock's bed.
"No thank you John. I can build it by myself." The child grinned proudly between the pillows and John smiled. "And Mr. Bee is helping. He tells me to get all the things that are missing. He is the boss today; it's just fair to switch roles once in a while, right?"
"That's right William. Maybe Mr. Bee has a job for me too?" William had pushed the pillows into the cave under the table through the legs of one of the chairs that he was using as door now.
"Mr. Bee says you can help. Because I'm too small to reach for it." William came over to him and took his hand. John stood up and followed William to the door. First he thought that William wanted to get something from outside but then he pointed at Sherlock's coat. "Could you lift the coat down for me, please?"
John wasn't sure he should. Sherlock loved that coat, more than he would ever say but William was Sherlock. Yes, a smaller version of him and he wouldn't destroy it. "You have to promise to keep it clean and whole." John reached for the coat and a very happy but also serious looking William took it.
"Yes, I will. Promise." Happy with his new treasure William put it on. Or better he tried. The thin figure of Sherlock was still at least twice William's size around the shoulders. But William didn't stop struggling until he had his hands through the sleeves and walked back to his cave. Laughing loudly and pulling most of the coat behind him he presented the coat to Mr. Bee.
"Look Mr. Bee. John got the coat for us." William took his friend in his arms and together they crawled into the cave. The inside was semi-dark. At both sides of the wall was a small gap to let in a bit of light. The floor was covered with pillows from John's flat mate's bed and the cushions from the sofa. The last piece was the heavy and warm woolen coat.
Pulling out his tiny arms from the sleeves he started to build a nest out of it. With enough space for him and Mr. Bee. "Mr. Bee, I'm finished. Now we have our private room and can start with the story.
Mr. Bee was satisfied with William's work. They snuggled together into the nest and William touched the fabric of the coat. It felt nice under his fingers. "A bit like you Mr. Bee. Maybe John's flat mate liked the coat because it felt like a best friend feels. Soft and warm and a bit heavy but when you wear it, it's like an armor protecting you. We should ask John to come in with us later but first we let him have a bit of time on his own. I know that adults like that. Aunt Maryanne says she need a few minutes a day to think. She should think more than a few minutes in a day. It could also be that I misunderstood her. Mycroft says that adults try to explain thing to children in a strange and incorrect way, because they think that children wouldn't understand them. But I'm smart, right Mr. Bee and you too and of course John is smart too. We are all smart."
William played with Mr. Bee's antennas while talking to his friend. The twilight in the cave made him sleepy and the warmth lulled him into sleep. The thoughts about John's flat mate, the warm coat that felt like Mr. Bee, Aunt Maryanne and adults in general disappeared.
John listened to William talking. It wasn't more than a whisper and he couldn't understand the words but he liked it. It reminded him of Sherlock when he talked to himself or stated he was talking to John or the skull. He always said he could think better when talking out loud. Maybe it had started in his childhood, talking to his toy when nobody else was there to listen.
After a few minutes the voice from under the table went silent. John waited for another few minutes and then walked over to the fortress. No noise was coming from the inside, so he knelt down and pulled two of the blankets away from each other. John was able to look through the gap inside. There on the ground in a pile of Sherlock's coat was little William sleeping, cuddled up with Mr. Bee.
John smiled and closed the gap so as to not disturb the child's sleep. He walked back into the kitchen and with a new cup of tea he started to read the paper, this time not just pretending.
