The boy who called wolf or John knows his fairy stories
AN: I wrote this a long time ago, sorry if its a little overdone. Please review. Thanks.
"Hey, freak! Brought your pet along again. Shame, he'll get hurt sooner or later and he'll wish he'd smartened up and left you well alone." Anderson called after Sherlock who, apart from a small dismissive glance at him as he entered the crime scene, had ignored him completely. John, however, had slowed down and carefully listened to what Anderson was saying.
"Firstly, I am not a pet. Secondly, if I get hurt it will be my own misjudgement not Sherlock's. And thirdly, shut up." John's voice was so quiet only Anderson heard it. Anderson blinked twice, had Watson actually had the guts to say that to him? Quiet, short, harmless Watson. No, he must be imagining things, too much coffee, and too little sleep. Still, he stayed a little further back while the freak inspected the crime scene with his usual ghoulish delight and restrained himself to the traditional call of freak to the pair as they left.
"Freak"
"Weirdo"
"Psychopath"
"One day we will be all standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes won't be around to help because he will be the one who put it there."
Sherlock always listened to them. Their opinions of him were boring, predictable and usually incorrect but were still registered, recorded. People talk and Sherlock listens. That's important.
As John stepped through the metal and explosive detectors in the reception of the Yard a piercing beeping sound went off which caused everybody to look at the pair briefly before going back to their own work.
John sighed "Is there anyone else finding something wrong with this picture? The detector goes off showing we have sufficient metal or explosive material to cause harm and no-one does anything about it!"
"It's Sherlock and it's been on the blink all week." an inspector shrugged apologetically.
"That's not the point!" John was frustrated now. "Don't you see, come on. False sense of security much! Look, if someone wanted to do a terrorist attack the most intelligent way to do would be to plant items on people or break the detector so everyone learns to ignore it going off.
Then follow up with the real attack a few days later when everyone's nicely accustomed to the change. Or better, still blackmail someone into breaking it, then blackmail or threaten someone until they carry in the explosive for them. Then set it off. Instant casualties of at least 20 and cause chaos and confusion. Damage to the hub of London's police force and instant chaos and destruction in its ranks."
Most of the room's occupants were staring at him open mouthed while Lestrade was looking pensive and mulling over his words.
Sherlock turned to John "So why did the detector go off when you went through it then?" the edge of his mouth slightly rose in a small smile. John frowned. Almost all the people made a move towards John as they finally processed what that statement implied.
"Stop being so slow!" Sherlock snapped. "Think, would John if he was a terrorist or being threatened by anyone be allowed to point out the weakness in such an obvious way? It was the packet of almonds in your pocket. Come on, time's passing, my brain cells are rotting!"
John followed him shaking his head "Basic security, don't make the villagers mistake when someone cries Wolf!"
"Didn't your mothers tell you fairy tales? Because you have seemed to have forgotten a very important one. Settle down and listen to the story:
There once was a shepherd boy who was bored as he sat on the hillside watching the village sheep. To amuse himself he took a great breath and sang out, "Wolf! Wolf! The Wolf is chasing the sheep!"
The villagers came running up the hill to help the boy drive the wolf away. But when they arrived at the top of the hill, they found no wolf. The boy laughed at the sight of their angry faces.
"Don't cry 'wolf', shepherd boy," said the villagers, "when there's no wolf!" They went grumbling back down the hill.
Later, the boy sang out again, "Wolf! Wolf! The wolf is chasing the sheep!" To his naughty delight, he watched the villagers run up the hill to help him drive the wolf away.
When the villagers saw no wolf they sternly said, "Save your frightened song for when there is really something wrong! Don't cry 'wolf' when there is NO wolf!"
But the boy just grinned and watched them go grumbling down the hill once more.
Later, he saw a REAL wolf prowling about his flock. Alarmed, he leaped to his feet and sang out as loudly as he could, "Wolf! Wolf!"
But the villagers thought he was trying to fool them again, and so they didn't come.
At sunset, everyone wondered why the shepherd boy hadn't returned to the village with their sheep. They went up the hill to find the boy. They found him weeping.
"There really was a wolf here! The flock has scattered! I cried out, "Wolf!" Why didn't you come?"
An old man tried to comfort the boy as they walked back to the village.
"We'll help you look for the lost sheep in the morning," he said, putting his arm around the youth, "Nobody believes a liar...even when he is telling the truth!"
Now I am a firm believe that people shape others with their words and actions towards them.
If you tell a child everyday of its life that it is worthless and act like it, it will eventually believe you and become useless. Now, I know that you wouldn't do that to a child.
But both of you on a regular basis tell someone that they are a freak, you think he ignores it, that he doesn't care. But this is a man that deduces everything, that can remember tiny, seemingly useless facts 10 years after it happened and you expect him not to mind. Well, maybe it doesn't, but you tell him he's a freak, he's a psychopath again and again. One day he might just take it as evidence and believe you. Then what's to stop him from anything?
On the other side, what if you notice a dramatic change in his behavior that genuinely makes you scared, will people listen to you? No, because you have being crying wolf all the time. So next time, try thinking before you speak, before you blame something on him when you don't have all the facts, before you call him a freak remember the tale.
Now, despite how delightful as this little chat has been I have to depart. Someone will release you from your bonds and gags in about three hours I suggest you use this thinking time constructively."
The figure slipped into the night, leaving the bound bodies of Donovan and Anderson in the dark.
Sherlock raised his head as John and Mycroft entered the room together talking about something in quiet voices. Sherlock only caught John thanking Mycroft who waved it away before leaving the flat. He dismissed the conversation as unimportant but when next entered the yard he didn't receive the usual greeting of Freak. He mentally shrugged; it was probably something to do with sentiment.
AN: The story dates from Classical times but, since it was recorded only in Greek and not translated into Latin until the 15th century, it only began to gain currency after it appeared in Heinrich Steinhowel's collection of the fables and so spread through the rest of Europe. For this reason, there was no agreed title for the story.
The thing about the almonds, apparently sometimes it can happen with some models... and after all, John isn't stupid enough to carry a gun in when surrounded by police officers. Sherlock, however, would do it for fun, or for data. Or because he was bored.