Chapter 7: The boy has doubts
The whole way home Sherlock thought about John's word. He was surprised as he realized that he not only had trusted John but was also sure he had told him the truth. He was very good in telling when someone was lying. It was part of the job and he had learned it the hard way through Master and his tests. The consequences were always unpleasant. But John said the truth or at least he thought it was the truth. Big difference.
He had imagined the fact that he must somewhere have a father and mother, he had ignored that he apparently also had a brother. Of course he must have parents somewhere but he never thought about it. Most of the people he lived and worked with everyday never talked about family or parents or home. It wouldn't have been appropriate around Master to even approach such a topic.
Another thing was the fact that John had let him go. It had looked like he had the order to find him and bring him 'home' to his brother who ever that was. Sounded like he worked for the government or something like that. Who else had his own men to search for a missing brother? But John let him decide, Sherlock wasn't used to being allowed to decide anything about his life. It was Master who made the decisions like where to live, what Sherlock's work was and all these things. Of cause Sherlock was allowed to work on his own without Master saying something but that was because Sherlock was good at his job.
Sherlock couldn't really remember his childhood. The only thing that was left behind in his memory were the consequences for not being perfect and not listening. The punishments and he knew Master enjoyed them at least partly. That made him shiver.
John had described his dream. Had John spied on him while he was in hospital and had he talked in his sleep? No, Master made sure no one could visit him and he wasn't the type to babble in his sleep. But the book shop and the hand. Had it really been his brother who had held it and why did he let go of him? Didn't he know that small children were unpredictable? So was Master his caretaker now or his kidnapper? Was he both or neither?
Sherlock still thinking hard entered the house on autopilot. He survived dinner (with Master) without a problem. Master was busy with planning something. Better not to interrupt him. Sherlock went to bed still confused but not any longer doubting John's words. John had told the truth and Sherlock shouldn't be here. He should be somewhere else with a loving family (he didn't know how that felt but it belonged to a life that should be his) and a home which wasn't threatened with punishments. A home that would make him feel safe. He fell asleep tired of all the new thoughts in his head and slipping into a dream with a guiding hand and the warm feeling of being loved.
During breakfast the next morning Sherlock stopped eating, something what he was trained not to do and that was the point. He realized he was trained to be Master's perfect little soldier, his creation. He was trained to do the things the way Master wanted them without having to control him because he was what Master had made him. His toy. For the first time in years Sherlock became angry.
"Why did you stop eating?" Master's words pulled him out of this mind and with an angry look in his eyes he turned to Master, who saw the change but didn't know the reason, yet.
"Did you kidnap me when I was a child? Did you steal me away from my family? And did you take away the chance of a life without being a monster from me?" Sherlock's voice grew louder with every word and he didn't care about a punishment for not eating or shouting or asking questions he wasn't supposed to be asking. Sherlock wanted for the first time in his life (at least for the parts he still remembered) to hear the truth from Master.
Master's eyes went small calculating and mad as if Sherlock had just destroyed something with his words. "Why do you think that?" The question was asked in a quiet and low voice. Sherlock could feel the danger but ignored his survival instinct. He needed the truth whatever it would cost.
"Oh maybe because I can remember my brother or maybe the fact that I don't have parents, a last name or even a birthday. How about that the way you have treated me my whole life was only to make me your pawn. You made me your toy that would work because of fear of punishment. Or maybe the fact that you never let me choose something regarding my life. Choose whatever reason you want, there are enough." The respect he usually talked with to Master, no Moriarty was gone lost in anger and desperation. He would probably die here and now for that but at least he would get the truth for the first time in his life.
To Sherlock's surprise Moriarty let out a deep sigh before saying something. "I have always wondered when you would find out but I never thought you would remember. I took you before your brain should have been able to save long term information and after your training you seemed to function the way I wanted you to." Sherlock's mouth dropped, Moriarty had just admitted to what he had done. What he had done to Sherlock and without feeling remorse or anything that could be describes as guilt. "Don't look at me like an idiot, you are smart and talented. That is the reason I chose you. You were perfect." Sherlock had to close his mouth again, speechless with hate for that man. "Now you have to decide, will you keeping on working for me, the way I like it, or would you prefer to be disposed of? You are allowed to choose, make the decision that will decide if you have a future or not. Take your time." Moriarty stood up. He made a call and two men appeared to bring Sherlock to his room, not too ruff but holding him firmly.
The sound of the locked door triggered another memory: the first day with Master and little Sherlock scared for life and captured without a way of escaping. Sherlock understood it now, he didn't belong here, he had to leave before Moriarty would come back and kill him. There was no illusion as to what his destiny would be if he stayed.
Sherlock, even if not at his best, was able to leave the house without getting caught, one of the many benefits of having been the boss' right hand for years. No one questioned you or what you were doing. Picking a lock was the easiest part. He wondered why Moriarty let him escape so easily but it was probably because he thought Sherlock had no place to go. But he was wrong. So wrong because Sherlock knew a place where not only he would be welcomed but also meet the people who were his family and had been looking for him for a very long time.
The only thing Sherlock had to do was find John. Breaking into a military base was a very easy thing to do when you had learned how to do it with seven. The only problem would be to find John among all these soldiers. But he was confident he could walk in the shadows until he had found him. Like all his life, living in the shadows. Being a shadow.
