A/N Nearly there. One more chapter to go (or one and an epilogue, we'll see how it goes). Thank you all for reading. Let me know what you think so far. Oh and Happy New Year.
Chapter 12 - Always Kind
Sherlock insisted that he and John speak to the mother alone. Clara was passed the point of objecting, she simply waited on the front porch with Jack, rarely speaking, lost to her own thoughts. When at last she did look up at Jack he looked as far away as she felt. "What is it?" She asked, "I know you and the Doctor were close, but there's something else on your mind, I can tell."
He smiled slightly at being so easily read, "I was thinking about the Yksin, how it would have burned up in the regeneration energy the moment it tried to emerge."
"That's good, isn't it?" Clara tried to sound positive, "No more parasitic space larva."
"Yes, but it also means the Doctor would have regenerated when their consciousnesses were linked." Clara simply stared at him without understanding. "Regeneration isn't completely random, there are all sorts of factors: conscious, unconscious, chemical, biological, that can affect it."
"And you think the alien's consciousness will have an affect on the Doctor?" Jack nodded gravely. "A negative one, judging by your face."
"Yksins are completely individualistic. They have no empathy, no compassion, no need for companionship. The only being in the universe they require is their host, and you know how they treat them."
"But that's not the Doctor. That's the very antithesis of him. I don't believe the foreign consciousness could affect him so much that it would change things that are so fundamentally him."
"I hope you're right."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Holmes. The detective inspector told me that you were assisting on this case and, well when he told me about all of the work you've done in London... I just can't tell you what a relief it is that you are here helping us. Please tell me, have you found anything yet?" Mrs. Logner, the missing girl's mother, asked, as she ushered Sherlock and John into her home.
"I do believe we are making progress," Sherlock took Jack's phone out of his pocket and followed the readings the Captain had set up for him.
Mrs. Logner followed in his wake, a little confused by this path through the house, "Do you think you know where she is? Or who that dreadful man was? Please Mr. Holmes, I must know. I've been worried sick."
Sherlock stopped beside a small door leading to a cupboard under the stairs. He opened it, took a quick reading, and pocketed the phone, "This is where your daughter spends most of her time."
The woman looked shocked, but quickly replaced that with a slight smile, "Yes, ever since we read Harry Potter together. It's her little playroom."
"And yet," Sherlock took out a small flashlight and shown it around the tiny space, "there are no toys or games, not so much as a crayon in here. Not to mention the complete lack of light." Something on the inside of the door caught his notice and he bent down to examine it.
Mrs. Logner was flabbergasted, "That's because... Mary... she's a very neat child. I don't abide a mess."
"Why is there a lock on the outside?" John asked, bringing his hands up to the sliding bolt.
"That's not a lock." Mrs. Logner said, indignantly, "That is simply there to keep the door closed when it is not in use," her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked less and less pleased to have them on the case.
"But it's a new one," John observed, running his fingers over previous holes in the wood. "Why replace it?"
Sherlock looked smug, John never ceased to amaze him, and he was somehow always on point, "Perhaps the answer is here," Sherlock pointed to indentations on the inside of the door. "Foot prints mainly, but some hand prints as well. And the occasional finger nail impressions. Which is almost funny. Did you know that in a strangers arms your daughter barely squirmed, and yet here in her own home, in her 'playroom' she was quite literally clawing at the door." Sherlock's eyes were burning holes into Mrs. Logner's.
"Get out," she hissed, "I am the victim here. I will not be spoken to in this way."
Sherlock stood up and stared down at the woman, "Mrs. Logner, there are only two ways that this is going to go. First, my team will do another sweep in this house. You see before, they were just trying to find the child. Their goal this time through will be a little different. Who knows what they will find. I somewhat doubt this atrocious neglect is the worst of your crimes against this child. Once the team have completed their search they will bring their findings to the police."
"Or?" the woman asked, her self interest getting the best of her.
"You misunderstand. That will happen regardless. Once that is complete I will go to my good friend the magistrate, and (this is where there is some choice) I will tell him that is this is one of the most heinous cases of child abuse that I have ever worked on, and that you should me made an example of. Or..."
"You'll be kind?" her eyes were large and pleading. Pure manipulation.
"No. Or I will suggest he follow the letter of the law."
The woman's face fell into a sneer, "That's not much of a deal."
"Well you're not much of a person," John added.
Her eyes shot daggers at him, but then turned back to Sherlock, "What do you want in return?"
"A list. Of anywhere or with anyone your daughter would feel safe," Sherlock held out a note pad and pen. Still glaring at him she took it and quickly jotted down a few items. When she passed it back to him their eyes met again and Sherlock couldn't keep the disgust from his face, "She never looked at you, did you know that? When a strange man came and took her away. She was so afraid, but not nearly enough to seek your help. What's that they say, 'the devil you know'? Couldn't even live up to that, could you?"
Sherlock called in both the police and Torchwood. They could take it from here. As he and John walked back to the entrance John said, "I know it's important to find the girl, but we can't forget about the Doctor. Sherlock, do you have any idea where he could be?"
They had pushed through the crowds of people now converging on the house and were walking down the front steps to Clara and Jack. "If we find the girl we find the Doctor." The others had heard this comment and were now looking over at him expectantly. "Think about it, what is the Doctor always?"
"Clever?" John replied, the only one willing to play this game with him.
Sherlock nearly rolled his eyes, "Kind. He's always kind. And yes, clever too. So he would notice that even after being abducted and having an alien bug removed from her body, the girl never once ran away. He wouldn't have stopped her and it's far too early for Stockholm syndrome to set in. They were in the garage for nearly an hour. That means that she waited there for him. She would have even witnessed the regeneration, and still she did not run. The Doctor would have wondered about that. He would have asked. And upon learning even part of what we have discovered, there is no way he would send her home." Both Clara and Jack were nodding. "The question is, where would be go and how would he get there. His face is no longer an issue, but everyone will be on the lookout for her. Planes and trains are out of the question. A car would be risky. And his ship is all the way back in London."
"Ship?" John asked, glancing down at the list again.
"Space ship," Sherlock clarified with a wave of his hand.
John pointed down the street to the water's edge. "That river would take you to the sea. It's off season, no one would notice if a motor boat went missing. And the child's uncle lives in Whitehaven."
Sherlock beamed, "Well done, John! Tell me Jack, can your team secure more comfortable transport for us than the train?"
Two hours later all four of them were standing outside Martin Logner's small house in Whitehaven. They rang the bell twice before a diminutive man of about 35 came to the door. "Can I help you?" he asked the group, being careful to only open the door wide enough for him to see out.
"We are looking for your niece, Mary Logner."
The man practically grimaced, "She's in Lancashire with my piece-of-work sister in-law. I haven't seen that girl in years. Her mother won't let me near her," his distaste was palpable.
"We know all about your sister in-law and how she treats her daughter. Believe me, we are in no way here to send her back to that hell. We are friends of the man who helped her and we were hoping she could help us find him."
At that the door opened wider and the little girl appeared beside her uncle, "You're friends of the Doctor? Of course we'll help."
At his niece's insistence Martin led the group into the small living room and Mary did her best to explain her time with the Doctor. She had spend a good deal of time at the garage unconscious, but she had seen his regeneration. "He said he was an alien, that's why he could change his face. I figured he must be a nice one though, because he asked me questions and listened, and when I said I didn't want to go home he brought me here."
"Do you know where he is now?" Clara asked kindly. Trying to hide both the hope and desperation from her voice.
"He said he was going home," the girl said with a small smile.
The moment was interrupted by Clara's mobile. She excused herself and answered it outside, "What is it, Angie?"
"The Doctor. He's gone. I heard the TARDIS and by the time I went outside it had disappeared. He didn't listen to my note. I told him to come inside and see me. That it was important. Is he there with you?"
"No Angie," Clara was working very hard to keep her voice even, "he's not."
Angie could tell Clara was upset, "He probably just has no idea where you are. It's like you used to say when we got lost, that we should stay in one place and you'd find us. You're off mucking about and he doesn't know where you are. That's all. He'll probably have a look around and then pop back here and wait. I'll call you if I see him."
"Thanks Ang," Clara hung up the phone and placed it back in her pocket. Her hand brushed against something hard and cold. She sighed and pulled out the TARDIS key. She could feel it in her chest, a dull aching, an emptiness. She knew the Doctor wasn't coming back.
