Lestrade frowned at John while Sherlock stepped backwards. Lestrade could tell instantly that Sherlock knew what had happened.
"Ok," Lestrade had a hand on John's shoulder "Why don't you sit here? I'll keep an eye on Sherlock." Lestrade could see that John was terrified of Sherlock.
Sherlock didn't seem upset about it, well he didn't to anyone that didn't know him, Lestrade noticed an abnormal blankness and silence settling on the man's features.
They were at the edge of the jungle; John kept glancing around obviously working out ways to escape from Sherlock if necessary. Lestrade gave John a worried glance before walking over to sit by Sherlock.
"What's happened?" he murmured not wanting to be over heard by John.
"I think he's been Hijacked." Sherlock said the words slowly like he was still trying to comprehend the enormity of what the word meant.
"Hijacked?"
"Drugged. Basically, they use a type of poison or venom that causes large amounts of pain and strong hallucinations. I'd say he's been dosed up then shown images and videos of me, for example the other day, I said I was plotting to kill him, when he was rational he knew I was being sarcastic but after being dosed up and shown the same clip he would believe that I want to kill him and from there the venom would cause his mind to build up a series of hallucinations based on that, he probably doesn't remember living with me or any of that, unless that memory could be seen as me being threatening."
"Why are you talking to him?" John spoke loudly looking quizzically at Lestrade "He's not even human you know, he doesn't feel anything he won't feel guilty about killing us, freaks have no problem with killing good people do they?" He turned his gaze to Sherlock for the last few words which he practically spat.
Lestrade could see Sherlock raise his defences at the word 'Freak', his emotions now completely hidden; Lestrade guessed, no knew, that John had never been this harsh towards Sherlock.
"I assure you Doctor Watson, if I wanted you dead you would already be long gone. I'm trying to think but you seem to lack the ability to shut up. If it's all right with you Detective Inspector I'll see if I can find anything to eat, the supplies we were provided on our arrival are now running low."
Lestrade found Sherlock's formal tone almost disturbing.
Sherlock was acting like he used to before John, not completely sociopathic, but enough to lock his more human attributes in the cupboard at the back of his mind.
"See you in a minute" Lestrade gave Sherlock a glance before turning to John
"Do you actually care about it?" John asked incredulously
"Him" Lestrade said calmly "And yes I do care about him"
"He's going to kill us" John seemed almost like his normal self, except how he was speaking about Sherlock "He doesn't care, I remember him telling me, he doesn't care about people, just getting rid of boredom."
"He did, until he met a brilliant man. A man that was patient with him, sort of understood him and couldn't have had a more positive effect on him."
"Who was this man?"
"Doesn't matter, but I think Sherlock thinks he's lost him."
"Probably pushed him away or killed him!"
"He didn't kill him, someone else seems to have done something worse" Lestrade muttered "What do you remember about Sherlock?"
"That he wants to kill me and he's an insane psychopath who doesn't understand what it means to be human"
"Where did you find that out?"
"Can you stop speaking to me like I'm being an irrational child?"
"When you start being rational, yes."
"I just know that that's what Sherlock's like" John shrugged; Lestrade gave a small smile when he saw a flash of uncertainty in John's eyes.
"Do you remember Baker Street? 221b?"
"Of course I do I live there. What's wrong Greg? You look worried"
"I am." Lestrade admitted, turning to gaze down the path Sherlock had taken only minutes ago
Sherlock strode quickly towards the beach, of course there was nothing that resembled food there, but it was away from John which was what he needed right now. He ignored the feelings of guilt and sadness gnawing at his insides, he had to get out of the Arena, he was beginning to feel restless, like a caged animal and Moriarty was a five year old poking him through the bars.
Sherlock had heard of Hijacking before, there were some organisations that used it as a form of torture because it left no lasting physical damage. Hijacking was better for spying though, get someone with a reasonably high position in your chosen organisation, kidnap them, Hijack them the right way and they would be servile to you, get any file you needed, give you access to where ever you needed to go.
The problem with Hijacking was that it's a very delicate process, if one thing went wrong the subject could go insane, die or be left soulless.
Part of Sherlock was thankful that John's Hijacking had only left him terrified of Sherlock; things could've gone a lot worse. At least John was still John.
Sherlock sank down to sit cross legged on the floor, he needed to think properly, without John telling him how inhuman and psychopathic he was.
Then he saw it, a square of lavender sat on a bone coloured rock. He was on his feet and holding it within seconds.
'Having fun? – JM'
Sherlock flipped the paper over, nothing of any use then, just childish taunting. Sherlock knew he was being watched, he gave his head a slight shake as if indicating to his audience that a piece of paper wasn't going to shake him.
He decided to go back into the rainforest; there was a bit more privacy there.
"This is like the Hunger Games" John said breaking the silence that had formed between him and Lestrade
"You've only just got that?"
"If this is like the Hunger Games it makes sense for Sherlock to want to kill us."
"It also makes sense for me to kill you but that doesn't mean I'm going to kill you"
Lestrade could see the conflict inside of John, did part of John still trust Sherlock?
A thud brought Lestrade back to reality. A large bunch of green tinted bananas sat by his feet. Sherlock strode over to sit on the floor about five metres away.
John was looking down cautiously at the bananas.
"Bananas?" Lestrade raised an eyebrow
"Problem?" Sherlock asked
"No just-"
"I assumed neither of you would want to eat an ape, bananas are all I could find that I was sure wasn't poisonous."
"You could've poisoned them." John added unhelpfully "We're in a jungle it's full of poisons"
Sherlock didn't even flinch at the accusation "I wasn't gone long enough to poison them."
John thinned his eyes, doubt very present.
Sherlock held his bow in one hand and plucked the string absentmindedly with the other. John continued to watch him, it wasn't apparent whether it was curiosity or suspicion, Sherlock ignored him either way.
After awhile Sherlock stopped plucking the bow, now it was sat by his head, he had now steepled his fingers beneath his chin his eyes distant in thought.
John couldn't help but not trust him, earlier he had debated whether to kill the man, it would increase both his and Lestrade's chances of survival, but when John watched the man, closely for a couple of hours he couldn't see an immediate threat. Sherlock Holmes appeared to be distant and sad and lacked interest in killing him, which was wrong; he wanted to kill John didn't he?
John gave his head a sharp shake; he couldn't feel sorry for a murdering psychopath!
Lestrade had fallen asleep leaning against a bit of tree, Sherlock was sat thinking and John was sat here doing next to nothing.
"What makes you think I'm going to kill you?" the deep voice broke through John's thoughts. Sherlock was looking at him, stormy grey eyes curious.
"I'm sorry?"
"You are convinced that I want to kill you, there's no point in my trying to convince you otherwise because you won't believe a word I say. I can't directly deduce what specific thought or memory causes your fear of me, I can guess but that's not accurate enough, and some of your memories aren't memoires they are induced hallucinations, therefore I need you to tell me."
"I'm hallucinating. That's your explanation is it? If we're asking questions why don't you tell me how many people you've killed?"
"In the last year one it was an accident but if I hadn't killed him he would've detonated a bomb that would've killed a lot of people including Mrs Hudson"
"How do you know Mrs Hudson?"
"She was landlady"
"Before I lived at 221b?"
"At the same time, but of course you won't remember that."
"No because I've been busy hallucinating" John's voice dripped with sarcasm, Sherlock gave a half smile
"Can I try something?" Sherlock asked
"You want to experiment on me? Like you did at Baskerville?" annoyance has sneaking back into John
"You remember Baskerville? Good. How did you get into Baskerville and why were you there?"
"I was in Baskerville because you locked me in a room and tested some bloody theory on me!"
"Why were we in Dartmoor though?"
"I wouldn't go on holiday with you"
"No you wouldn't. So why were you there?"
"I…I don't know" John blinked, he didn't have a clue. He remembered the lab, and the HOUND drug in the fog in the forest but he didn't remember driving there or there being a reason "You knew that I was going to say that."
"I was fairly sure yes."
"Are you going to tell me what I was doing there?"
"No. You need to get there yourself. I have one more question do you remember what happened at St. Barts just over a year ago?"
"Something bad" John said slowly
Sherlock made no move to reply
"Someone died. Someone important, but I can't remember who…"
"That's fine" Sherlock said "You should get some sleep"
"What was that all about? If I didn't know better I would say you were trying to help me. But I do know better so are you trying to plant memories in my head, trying to lower my defences so I'm easier to kill?"
"You should get some sleep"
"You're not going to sleep though"
"Well that didn't work out to well last time. And I can think better if both you and Lestrade are being quiet"
John shifted to curl up against a tree trunk
"Lestrade said you lost someone important very recently."
"Did he? I suppose he would see it like that"
"Who were they to you?"
"I've not lost anybody. I'm not giving up on them that easily"
John gave him a sleepy frown. He wanted to remain awake, his mind told him Sherlock would kill him the second he closed his eyes, but a deeper part of his mind told him he was being ridiculously stupid, he needed sleep and Sherlock never slept when on a case so he wouldn't start now. Wait what case had he done with Sherlock? Before he could question himself further he was asleep.
