What's this? Another update so soon? xD

Thank you everyone for the magnificent reviews! You guys are my motivation ^^
Put some feels in there for you guys.
Hm.
This stories getting low on angsty-Sherlock. Might have to do something about that :D

"Why would he call himself Syndrome?" I smiled, since I had a fairly good idea.
"Look up the definition of 'syndrome' Watson and you will find your answer." I vaguely registered that I had forgotten the prefix again, but for a second time Mr. Watson didn't seem to care.
I had grown to respect him more than I had ever guessed. And I genuinely cared for him.
"Besides that, have you got anything further on the case?" I gazed at Mr. Watson for a long time without speaking, trying to find a way to word this.
"... Holmes?"
"Ah, yes I-I believe that..." He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.
"That everyone on this ship is a fake besides you and myself."
He choked on his tea.

"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me perfectly fine." He put his cup down slowly and leaned forward.
"That's ridiculous,"
"But it may be true, and you know it." He frowned and leaned back again.
"Do not make farfetched assumptions." Why didn't he believe me? Had I done something earlier to anger him or something? Mr. Watson rubbed his eyes.
"Urgh, Holmes I apologize for the harshness of my tone." He looked at me through his fingers.
"I must write a letter to Mary."

I knew who Mary was.
"Watson, Watson!" I blurted out as he went to stand, grabbing at his arm and pulling him back down.
"What, is something wrong?"
"No, no! I remember!" He smiled slightly, sitting down again, his letter to Mary thankfully forgotten.
"What do you remember?"
"Mary. The wedding. And the train,"
"Train?"
"Yes. I threw your wife off a train."

He laughed. He had been furious at the time, but at least he hadn't held a grudge. I was quite glad about that actually.
"Please don't waste time sending a letter, you'll be home in the time it arrives anyway,"
"Holmes." It was a warning I did not heed.
"And why does she need a letter anyway? She could just, I don't know, leave. Then you won't have to worry."
He hit me on the head with his cane.
"Hey, that hurt!"
"That was the point, you dolt."

What did he just call me?
"Now stop being rude to my wife or I'll do something drastic,"
"Like what?" He gave me a pointed look and didn't say anything, instead just rising and going over to a desk to write his stupid letter. I decided I'd scrunch up balls of paper and throw them at his head to irritate him.
"Holmes!" He suddenly burst out after a whole three minutes before storming over, grabbing the bin and tipping its contents all over me.
I erupted into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

I decided not to trust anyone except Watson. I stayed close by his side and kept him in my line of sight at all times. I recieved quite a lot of odd stares about my sudden change of behaviour, but I ignored them.

I was not being paranoid.

I was being cautious.

"Holmes, why are acting so strange?" Mr. Watson whispered as he pulled me aside from all the guests.
"I am not acting strange. I am being cautious Watson." He groaned.
"No one on this ship is against you Holmes, why is this silly notion in your head?" I had a wicked thought. A flustered Doctor Watson was possibly the most amusing thing I had ever seen. I couldn't resist.
"Care to remove it?" I asked in all serious, twirling him around, avoiding the other dancing couples.
"Holmes! I- I don't under- what?"

I grinned.
"I apologize."
He clearly didn't accept the apology.
"I still don't know what you were implying,"
"I wasn't implying anything, I just said it."
He rolled his eyes and untangled himself from my grip on him. As he ducked to the right, I suddenly caught sight of silver hair among the other guests dancing and twirling to the music.

"W-Watson!" I grabbed him again and pointed. He gazed through the mass of bodies, but shook his head.
"I do not know what you are pointing at,"
"H-him! Syndrome." I hissed in a whisper.
"I saw him."
He searched through the people again and then ended up shrugging.
"Maybe you're seeing things." He went to leave and I quickly followed after him as soon as I lost sight of him in the crowd, suddenly relieved when I found him again.

I was not paranoid.

I was being cautious.

And my whole afternoon had still gone badly. I fell off my bunk when the blanket tried to eat me, tripped over a threshhold, knocked over a vase of flowers, dropped Watson's coat in the punch bowl and it had only been two hours. Watson refusing to believe me just added to this list.
"I'm going to... Step outside." I informed when I started to feel queasy and walked outside, leaning against the railing and breathing in the salty, fresh air. I hoped no one had followed suite, but once I was outside, I saw another person on the opposite side of the boat.
A woman. Wearing a gown I had not seen on any of the other guests. Her hair had been previously up in a bun, since half of it was still sitting atop her head, the rest had come loose and was flowing all the way down to her waist.

I took a half-step towards her, unsure of whether to call out, approach her, find Watson, ignore her very existance or just go back inside. It took me what felt like a long time to make up my mind. The music and cheers from inside had been muted by the heavy doors and were just dull sounds, so I was sure she'd hear me if I spoke to her.
"Um, excuse me?" I called. She jumped violently and spun around, looking almost terrified. I quickly threw my hands in the air in a gesture of innocent. This seemed to calm her considerably.
"I-I am not supposed to be out here-" I smiled, hoping it looked encouraging.
"I promise I will not tell anyone."
She returned the smile after a hesitant few seconds.
"I am meant to be inside celebrating too, so we can be stealthy together."

She giggled, and since she seemed to have relaxed and was no longer wary of my presence, I approached her. She looked nervous when I leaned on the railing again beside her.
"What is your name?"
She finally asked after a long silence.
"My name is Sherlock Holmes, madam, and yours would be?" She was obviously shocked, staring at me openly and then averting her gaze.
"I cannot tell you..."
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She looked scared.

Why was she so afraid of me?
"Are you afraid I am going to hurt you?"
"No, no! It is not that, you seem like quite a gentleman." I snorted involuntarily, but she ignored that.
"But I have been told not to fraternize with a man named Sherlock Holmes." Had Syndrome told her that? Was that why she was so afraid of getting caught with me? Or was it something else? She was the youngest girl I'd seen on the ship, in her late teens at most. Could she be...?

"Fraternise? I'm not going to seduce you or something." She giggled again.
"No, he didn't mean it like that; I'm not even allowed out of the cellar - ever - but tonight he said was a special occasion. Fraternise to him means being within six feet of someone." For some reason I found that rather amusing, but then my brain registered what she'd said.
"You live in a cellar!?"
She quickly covered my mouth.
"Shh, please!" I nodded and she released me.
"There is a cellar at the bottom of the ship, my sisters and I live in there, he said it was only until he'd... What did he say? Dealt with you."

Syndrome. She was talking about Syndrome and she wasn't dead, none of the girls were dead, they hadn't jumped off the boat, they were being held hostage!
"I have to get you off this ship." She shook her head rapidly.
"You can't, we've tried, and that'll only get you in trouble." I opened my mouth to reply, but I heard a very familair voice call;
"Holmes?"
The poor girl choked on a scream and clutched my arm.
"Don't worry." I consoled.
"Watson, I'm over here!"
I called back.

"Oh please, Mr. Holmes, please, you promised!"
"Dont' worry, Mr. Watson is friend of mine." She didn't seem convinced as Watson rounded a corner and saw us. He came up to us, leaned against the railing and raised an eyebrow.
"May I ask what you are doing Holmes?" He sounded almost amused. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him.
"They're not dead, see?" I waved at the girl still attached to my side. He looked sceptical.
"I don't understand."

She was shaking. Terrified.
"This girl, she's one of the 'dead' girls who jumped off the ship, they're alive and being held hostage in a cellar." Mr. Watson looked back and forth between us.
"I'm Doctor John Watson, pleasure to meet you."
She nodded, but it was kind of a single, jerky bob. And then Watson went all doctor face.
"Are you alright, are you injured?"
She appeared stunned by the concern, but finally shook her head.
"N-no, he doesn't hurt us much."

Mr. Watson glanced at me and I could see the question in his eyes. Same man? I nodded and he shook his head.
"I am sorry for turning down concern for you Holmes, I should have-"
"Don't."
His eyes widened at the interruption.
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's fine. Don't apologize."
He shrugged and the girl disentangled herself, brushing invisible dirt from her dress.

"Maybe I could give you a code name." I suggested. She pouted.
"I-I'm not sure." I grinned.
"Ha, Mary." Watson frowned and elbowed me in the side. She smiled.
"Actually, I quite like the name Mary." Watson threw his arms in the air and sighed.
"Really Holmes?"
"Yes." 'Mary' smiled slighty.
"I think I should go now, before I get caught with you." And then she dashed back inside and left us alone out in the cold air. I turned to Watson and grinned victoriously. He didnt' seem as happy as I was, but he eventually ended up smiling.
"You are completely ridiculous." He stated as he turned to go back inside.
"I know."

"Watson?" He looked up and put his tome aside.
"Yes?"
"I want to remember you." He blinked a few times and then just stared at me.
"What?"
"I want to remember you. I really do. I want to know everything about you, but I just... I don't." He sat forward and twined his fingers, resting his chin on them.
"You may never remember those things, you know that don't you?"
"Yes. But I want to try anyway,"
"I'd help you if I could,"
"Say things."

He raised an eyebrow.
"Words, words make me remember things." He gazed around the room, but didn't say anything for quite a while.
"What am I supposed to say? I say Inspector Lestrade, but you do not recognise him, I say Mary and you know exactly who she is. I say 221B and it takes you three days to remember, and I still don't quite know where Mrs. Hudson stands,"
"I know who Mrs. Hudson is,"
"That's not what I meant."

I sighed and sat back, staring at the ceiling.
"Nevermind,"
"I know what you mean Holmes, but I don't know what to say, I don't know what to say to make you remember."
This conversation was not going the way I intended.
"And there are things you have learnt that you do not want to remember. Professor James Moriarty for example." I winced as phantom pain blossomed in my shoulder and raging waterfalls flashed before my eyes and I felt like I was drowning all over again.
"You had to bring him up didn't you?"
"Yes. You insist on knowing everything there is to know, but the more you remember, the more you want to forget,"
"I don't want to forget you."

The reaction was instant.
"Holmes..."
I'd struck a chord. I stared at the ground, knowing exactly how immature I was being.
"You know I didn't mean it like that... Holmes. Holmes look at me." I refused to do so until he forced me to, putting a hand on my chin and tilting my head up. I still tried to avoid his eyes.
"Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?" I frowned, bit my lip, tied to keep the words in, but suddenly everything just flooded out of me in a torrent.
"I want to remember everything, but everything is a big word, and it's frightening, frightening not knowing and just as frightening to remember, it's not a pleasant experience, and I just want it all over with, but when I remember everything, what if I forget you? What if you become something insignificant? Something to throw away and be gone with? I don't want to be that kind of person."

I didn't even know what I was saying anymore. I was just rambling. Was I going mad? Perhaps I was. Perhaps Watson should throw me into some kind of mental asylum and leave me there. It was no more than I needed in my hysteric state.
"Holmes-"
"Watson, I don't want to be like that again; cruel and heartless again - and don't look at me like that, I've heard the things you say very clearly - but what if I can't avoid it?"
"Holmes-"
"What if I start pushing you away and you start hating me and-"
"HOLMES!" I jumped and looked up at the outburst. Watson was frowning, but there was concern and something I couldn't recognise behind his eyes. Frustration? Anger?

The door opened and we both quickly sat back, suddenly realising our close proximity, and turned to face the door. Ms. Blight stood in the doorway. She stared at the two of us for a while.
"I-um, I apologize; I thought you both were out on deck."
What difference did that make? Why was she going inside our dorm anyway? Mr. Watson seemed to have the same train of thought.
"Why would you need to be in here anyway?" He asked suspiciously. She was flustered for a second. I felt my temper rising. Mr. Watson glanced at me and then back at Ms. Blight.
"We are... Busy, right now."

She huffed and walked off, not bothering to close to the door. I sat back again and stared at where she'd been standing.
"They want to kill me,"
"What?" I gazed at Watson lazily.
"They want to kill me, they've been plotting how to do it and now they're going to murder me while there is no one to know anything, I'll just dissapear..."
"No, you won't, I'll make sure of it."
I blinked. Then smiled. And then someone screamed.

You must remember that the inconsistency in the way he addresses John is done on purpose. Eventually he will return to calling him Watson permanently.
Bit longer than the previous chapters to make up for their... Well... Shortness xD
So far, this is my favourite chapter and it was very fun to write.