Hey, guys! Thanks for all the nice reviews on the last chapter!
Guest/someone/Guest 2: Thank-you so much!
Alatum Laminis: Yeah, the "uncanny personalities" were my aim, so it's nice to see that I'm accomplishing just that! Thank-you! As for the motivation for escaping Sherrinford? Well, you'll find out soon enough. ;)
Analena: Yep, you're right! Only the Holmes would find a trip to a mental asyulum a fun day out! And as for Molly having the final say in certain things, someone has to keep those Holmes men in line and it might as well be the only one who's not a high-functioning sociopath! I'm still working on how Rosie will find out about the story behind that little white flower, but she can't be in dark too much longer, that much I know.
And before I start this chapter I would like to thank my brother whom I bounced off ideas for this chapter and chapters beyond. Yesterday morning, I had no idea how to open this chapter. Well, I had some sort of idea, but didn't have the substance I do now. I had one of the closing scenes more developed but it was just fluff and not the really important stuff. By the time I was finished talking with him, I knew where I was going with it, which made it easier to just sit down and type. :)
So, on that note, let's get on with the story, shall we?
Rosie looked out of the helicopter window as it was landing on the landing pad on the asylum's island.
"Ready to meet some cannibals, Rose?"
Rosie jumped as she realized that Callum was sitting behind her giving her no room to turn around.
"Do you mind?" She asked.
Callum scooted back but only a couple of centimeters; she could still smell his cologne.
"You haven't answered my question."
She turned around and saw him giving her his maddening boyish grin.
"Contrary to what you believe, I have no intension of meeting people who eat their own; literally."
"Wow; that sounded so much like my mother that it's cringe worthy."
"I wasn't joking."
"I know; makes it sound a little less like her; a little."
"There won't be time to see the cannibals." Sherlock said from the passenger seat.
Rosie braced herself as the helicopter landed.
"Not even a little?" Callum sounded so disappointed that Rosie covered her mouth so her smile would go undetected.
"No; every second your aunt is on the loose is another second she could be planning something akin to a terrorist attack, and don't think that I'm joking; she would do it. She's got the brains, and she has little regard for human life."
Callum slouched in his seat looking like he was a child who was just denied an ice cream cone.
"Why do you want to see cannibals anyway?" Rosie unclicked her seat belt. She would be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little disturbed by her best friend's latest fascination.
"Because I've never seen one before," Callum unlocked his own seat belt, "I want to observe them; see the look in their eyes and see what it looks like when someone's completely lost their humanity. That way, I'll know one when I see one." He opened his door and jumped out.
Rosie tilted her head. As usual she had never thought about it the way Callum would. But she didn't disapprove the reason. She opened her door and jumped when she saw that Callum was waiting for her.
"Don't scare me like that," she put her hand over her chest as his earlier grin appeared on his face.
"Wasn't my intent; but I'll go with it," he extended his hand which she refused as she jumped onto the packed sand on her own.
"Too bad it's an asylum island," Rosie told Callum as they walked the halls of Sherrinford, "Otherwise, it would be a pretty place."
"Pretty as it is, it's not exactly a vacation spot with those rough waters," Callum reasoned, "If it wasn't an asylum island, it would probably be a prison island."
"True."
Both froze as the echoes of deranged laughter drifted from the hall they just passed. They both took a couple steps back and saw that the hall led to some sublevel.
"Don't mind that," Sherlock called from further down the hall, "That's where the cannibals are held."
"Hmm." Callum smiled as he began making his way down the hall.
Rosie grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back. He laughed as he let her fiercely steer him around and push him in the direction where his father was walking.
"Brother, how good to see you." Mycroft greeted Sherlock.
Rosie often wondered if Mycroft Holmes meant that in sincerity, or if he said that in repetitive politeness; it had always been hard to tell with him.
"Ah, I see you've settled in here quite nicely." Sherlock looked around and Rosie saw what he meant. It looked as if the only thing of his he hadn't moved into this office was his bed…unless if that was in the next room of course.
"Well, like I said over the phone, I'm taking over for good; should've done it years ago. If I had, we probably wouldn't be in this mess—again. There wouldn't happen to be bombs in your apartment where Molly would be this time of day on her day off would there?"
"Not that I'm aware."
"Did you check?" Mycroft smiled in his evil way.
"Yes. Molly just texted me that she's fine; I've asked her to keep me updated."
"Good. Last time reaped some disastrous results; it killed your bachelorhood."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Rosie crossed her arms, "I might have grown up an only child."
Mycroft laughed.
"Yes, poor Callum."
"Why?" Rosie turned to Callum to see that his face was tinted red and he was shooting his uncle a dirty look.
"Ah, never mind. It's good to see you, Rosie." He gave her a hug, which was significant, because she was the only one he would hug apparently. "Your father's not here?"
"He had a staff meeting at work today; he couldn't avoid it." Rosie hugged Mycroft but kept a perplexed eye on Callum.
"So, where are we on finding Euros?" Sherlock asked drawing attention away from his son.
"Pretty much the same, I'm afraid. We can go look at her cell, if you'd like."
"Yes, please."
"This is where she was for the last 17 years?" Callum asked mirroring Rosie's thoughts.
"Well, if you want to be more specific, she's been here since she was 9 years old." Mycroft stuck his hands in his pockets, "When she was a child she had some children's toys and a comfier bed, but she outgrew all of those things very quickly. The things she wanted we couldn't give her because we quickly learned that anything we give her, no matter how insignificant it may have seemed could be used as a tool of escape."
Rosie walked around the sparse room which consisted of nothing but a violin stand, a small stack of books and a twin sized bed.
"Was there supposed to be a glass wall here?"
Rosie turned around to find Callum standing midway between the bed and the front door. He gently floated his hand just above the surface of the wall.
"Yes. There had to be because she couldn't have a door. It was still a means of escape no matter how secure it could be. It could have 15 different locks originating from 15 different countries and she could still escape within a matter of days."
"Amazing," Rosie realized her jaw had dropped.
"Well, she's definitely a Holmes." Callum smiled.
"Yes, indeed." Mycroft sounded grim, "To her—and our—detriment."
"I'm assuming she took over the whole asylum again?" Sherlock asked picking up one of her books and looked it over. He paused over a small, wooden statuette and picked it up scrutinizing it.
"Yes. It took me all night to put things back in order." Mycroft rubbed his eyes in weariness.
"Took over the asylum?" Rosie asked, "And what do you mean by 'again'?"
"Euros has this…way about her." Sherlock explained, "She's very powerful at making people susceptible to her suggestions."
"Indeed," Mycroft said, "There was a guard here who worked here for only two weeks. He quit because she was making suggestions to him to kill his family."
"Why?" Rosie asked.
"Because everything is an observation game to her. Anyway, he said as he quit that her voice was like a worm burrowing into his mind; he couldn't get it out. So he decided to walk away.
"Two weeks later, he killed his family and himself."
Rosie covered her mouth in horror and looked at Callum to see that he had similar look on his face. Not without a hint of fascination though, the fiend.
"So she's taken over before?" Callum asked.
"It's how she escaped the last time. Any clue as to how long?"
"My estimation? About three months, which is much better than the last time."
"How long was the last time?"
"I'm not sure, but every indication was that it was about three years. I'm guessing that because there was quite a bit of things that went undocumented during 2014-2017."
"Three years. That's a long time for a psychopath like her to have the reins on this place." Callum gave his uncle a look, "What did she do during all that time?"
"My guess is that she planned for her game she would eventually play on us."
"That's it?"
"What else would she have been doing? I've looked into the missing time all I could and nothing dastardly turned up."
"Yes, but if I had all that time on my hands and I was her, I would be doing so much more than just plan for a game with my brother who had long since forgotten me. I mean, I can come and go as a please with no bars nor iron cage holding me back for the first time since I was 9 years old. I think I'd be doing quite a bit."
"What are you saying?"
"Well, with a person like that with an intel like that, she could have had an entire lifetime of things she could've accomplished during that unaccounted time. I'm not saying like terrorist scale stuff, although she might've done that too. I'm talking about just exploring the world. She could've met someone that she's staying with now. Someone we know nothing about, and wouldn't know because no one kept an eye on her." He pointed to the book in Sherlock's hands.
"You think she might know someone in America, being that that's what the book's about?"
Sherlock opened the book and leafed through it.
"I guess it's possible." He said, "Don't you agree, Mycroft."
"I suppose so. Perhaps reproducing wasn't the worst thing you could've done after all."
He had to put it that way. Though, Callum was probably used to his uncle speaking that way about him by now.
"Well, it's worth a shot. What do we have to lose?" Sherlock looked up at his brother.
"Point taken. I'll use my resources to see what I can find near the home of the brave."
"Isn't there anything else we can do right now?" Callum asked stretched out on the bed out of the inn room they rented, "I'm bored out of my mind."
It had been three hours since Mycroft had started to use his "resources" to search America and so far nothing popped up. Nothing.
"You didn't think it would be this easy, did you?" Sherlock asked from his computer, "we may put things together in our minds faster than the average person, but it still takes time. And patience."
Callum groaned.
"What are you doing right now, Uncle Sherlock?" Rosie stood behind him and looked down on his laptop.
"I'm looking into that statuette that was in her cell. Stuck me as odd that she had it there, being that it wasn't there last time so I'm looking into its origin."
"Anything so far?"
"Not quite, but I'll get somewhere soon. It seems to be rather hard to trace." He spun around in his chair as Rosie stood back. "In the meantime, why don't you two go out to dinner? I'm sure you can find a local favorite in this fishing town. Maybe explore the town when you're done. This could take some time and you should enjoy traveling as much as you can in between solving the case."
Callum perked up.
"There's an idea." He sprung off the bed and adjusted his black shirt collar, "Say…Rosie. Would you mind accompanying me on a date this fine evening in No-Where's-Ville Europe?" He bowed dramatically.
"You're too funny, Callum." She laughed and cleared her throat, "Why not, kind sir? I'll go get my coat."
"Well, this seems to be the town favorite, so let's go here." Callum opened the door to a restaurant called The Village Gathering and let Rosie entered first. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lights she saw why it would be the town favorite.
It wasn't a large restaurant, but it was a nice one. A rustic pub stood off to the side, the middle of the building held the dining area and, she felt herself smile when she saw a dance floor on the other side of the eating area where a few couple were dancing to some older music from the stereo.
"Ah, I see this place has everything you like."
She looked up to see Callum smiling, "Though, I don't think we're quite old enough to order a drink from the pub without my father present."
Rosie laughed softly as her eyes fell on the sign between the podium and the dining area.
PLEASE SEAT YOURSELVES: A WAITER SHOULD BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.
"Well, the bright side is that we get to pick our own seats." Callum said picking up menus from the pocket underneath the sign. "There's not a lot to choose from."
Rosie chuckled at his sarcasm as they entered the mostly empty dining room.
"Lead the way," Callum said tucking the menus under his arm.
Rosie chose a spot in the middle where she could see the dance floor and sat down. Callum sat across from her handing her a menu.
"I can see your heart is set elsewhere," Callum smirked as he opened his menu.
"Maybe I'll dance while we're waiting for our food." Rosie opened her own menu and found that there was a nice selection of things to choose from.
"Perhaps I'll join you."
"You hate dancing." Rosie didn't look up from her menu as her eyes fell on the drink choices.
"I hate dancing alone." Callum specified.
"Are you asking me to reserve my first dance for you?" Rosie smiled looking up.
"Maybe." She saw Callum smile back as he looked his menu over, "And your last if you don't mind."
"Welcome to the Village Gathering."
Both looked up to see a waiter in his early 20's holding a pen and pad in his hands.
"My name is Allister and I'll be serving ye tonight. Is there anything I can get to drink for the lovely couple?"
"Oh," If Rosie was sipping on a drink, she'd be choking right now, "Um, we're not a couple. And, uh, what do you suggest?"
"Really?" Allister looked intrigued. "Well, my apologies, ma'am. And if ye want my suggestion…" He leaned over her menu to where the drinks were located and pointed to one of the options, "The ginger beer, we brew ourselves, and it's excellent if ye're looking for something a little spicy. It's non-alcoholic, if that sort of thing bothers ye."
"Oh," Rosie smiled up at the man noting his Scottish accent and how handsome he was, "I think I'll try that; thank-you."
"Ye won't regret it. And what about ye, laddie?"
Rosie looked at Callum and saw that he was scowling.
"Sir?"
"Yes," Callum looked up at Allister, "I think I'll get the same thing."
"Alright. Two ginger beers coming right up. Do ye need more time with the menu?"
"I do," Rosie said.
"So do I. so, I yes, I think."
"Alright; I'll be right out with yer drinks." Allister turned and left for the kitchen.
"What was that about?" Rosie asked.
"What was what?" Callum asked looking at his menu.
"You were being rather rude to Allister."
"Oh, so it's 'Allister' and not 'the waiter'."
"What is wrong with you?"
Callum raised an eyebrow her way before returning to his menu.
"He's a habitual flirt and cheater."
"How do you know?"
"The fourth finger on his left hand has a ring mark on it, meaning he takes some sort of ring off every time he goes to work. Frees him up to flirt with the customers and waitresses don't you think?"
Rosie sighed.
"Of course he's a habitual cheater and he's hitting on me." She turned to her menu and made a mental note of how the scallop dinner looked good. "How do I always seem to attract those sort of guys? It's not like I come across like a lose girl. I don't, do I?"
"No; but you're blonde, so that attracts a general crowd. You just seem to always go out with guys like that."
"What are you saying?" Rosie put her menu down and crossed her arms.
"What I'm saying is that maybe you should take the time to get to know a guy as a person as a friend before you decide if he's worth dating, that's all." Callum closed his menu and set it down looking at her seriously. "You don't always have to have a date to get to know a person. Take you and I for example."
"Yeah, but it's different with you and I."
"How so?"
"I…don't know…it just is. I can't remember a time when I didn't know you. It was before things got…complicated and people got hard to understand."
"Well, at least we still have each other for that." He smiled picking up his menu.
"We do, don't we?" Rosie smiled in response and did the same.
"Two ginger beers." Allister returned and set one of the two cups in front of Callum, "And here ye go, Lass."
"Thank-you," Rosie said.
"Anything else I can get for ye?" Allister winked and clicked his tongue.
"I think I'll get the scallop dinner with the chips," Rosie said politely closing her menu.
"Now that is a popular dish around her. Ye'll enjoy that quite nicely. And ye, laddie?"
"The bowl of seafood chowder." Callum set his menu on top of Rosie's.
"Alright." Allister wrote it down and picked up their menus. "If there's anything, anything I can do to help, let me know." He smiled fondly at Rosie and walked away.
"He is not good at being subtle with his intentions is he?" Rosie laughed once he was safely in the kitchen.
"Not in the least." Callum chuckled.
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to dance." Rosie got up and walked toward the dance floor. She heard Callum's chair scrape across the floor as he stood up to follow her.
"Allow me to accompany you, Miss Watson; protect you from dangerous waiters." He winked at her.
Rosie laughed and looped her arm through his offered one.
They arrived on the dance floor just as One Direction's Diana began to play overhead. Rosie enjoyed being twirled and spun around as they got a feel for the fast tempo.
"You're so good at dancing," she said mid-song, "Why don't you do it more?"
"I rarely have anyone to dance with."
"What am I, exactly? Chopped liver?"
"Touché." Callum agreed spinning her around again. She knew he wouldn't spin her so often if she didn't have a high tolerance for constant movement. But she did and he knew it; it was the benefits of having someone knowing her so well.
"When we get home," Rosie said a couple of minutes later as the song was ending, "I think one of our extracurricular activities will have to be dancing on the weekends."
"We do make pretty good partners, don't we?" He pulled her closer and looked down at her with a smile.
"Yes, we do, Mr. Holmes."
The next song was much slower…and older; much older, though she recognized it. She often thought the tune of James Blunt's You're Beautiful sounded much nicer than the voice that went with it, even though the lyrics were nice.
Instead of twirling her around, Callum seemed content to sway back and forth with her to the slower beat, which Rosie was fine with being that she was ready to slow down a little. She was tired after the early morning trip and walking around all day; it was almost as if he sensed her mood, which might not have been far from the truth.
Resting her head right underneath his shoulder, Rosie closed her eyes and felt herself relax a bit more.
"Tired?" She felt the vibration of Callum's voice from his chest.
"A little; just waiting for dinner to show up; I'm starving."
Callum chuckled, a deep sound and vibration that made her relax a bit more.
"I know what you mean."
They didn't say anything after that, nor did she feel the need to start another conversation, which was another nice thing about being close to Callum; silence was never awkward.
A couple minutes later another song began to start, this time the Bee Gees Stayin' Alive.
"Looks like our food's arrived."
Rosie opened her eyes and glanced at their table. She pulled away and found that she was reluctant to do so as they headed back to their table.
Over dinner, she found that the air between them was…different. Not different in a bad way; in fact, it was good, but still different and she wasn't sure how or why.
They talked about things they usually talked about, and laughed at the same things they always had, but it was still different.
"Oh, and by the way," Callum looked as if he were trying to contain laughter, "Toby is going to ask you out when we get home."
"Toby Lestrade?" Rosie stabbed a scallop and paused her arm in midair.
"No, Toby the man running for Prime Minister; of course Toby Lestrade."
"Toby's well…" She let her voice drift.
"Go on; say it." Callum laughed.
"Toby." Both said in unison.
"Besides, I think he cheated to get good grades."
"Oh, rest assured he did." Callum finished off his seafood chowder, "I have proof; just waiting for the perfect opportunity to use it as blackmail."
"Callum."
"Okay, fine. I'll report it to the headmaster of your school if that makes you happy."
"Thank you. And yes, it does."
They decided to take a couple of slices of chocolate cake to go as they headed out into the brisk, cool night.
"We really stayed out late," Rosie pulled her coat in tighter, "it's dark out."
"Our conversations always seem to have conversations," Callum wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "That's always how Mum always puts it."
"Well, she would be right; at this point, I'm just ready to climb into a warm bed."
"I know what you mean. It's been a long day."
"Mmm." Rosie nodded in agreement.
As the two walked into their inn room a little while later, however, they knew that it was not meant to be after one look at Callum's father.
He was holding the statuette and was on the phone with Mycroft.
"We should be there in about a half hour." He said hanging up. He smiled at his son and goddaughter.
"Get ready to go," he said straightening his jacket, "I think I know why Euros escaped Sherrinford."
Phew! So much for this being a shorter chapter! I applaud anyone who's taken the time to read it!
And as a side note, I'm not sure if Euros had control over Sherrinford for three years the first time; she probably didn't, but let's say she did for the sake of the story.
Anyway, please review and comment! But please no character bashing and/or foul language.
