Last time…
David shakily stood up, but was knocked back down by Shorty. He glared at him. "I'm starting to get mad," he threatened.
Shorty laughed and pushed him hard enough that he stumbled into a cluster of trees and fell into a pond where they couldn't' see him.
The sound of their derisive laughter and the nervous anger of the boy they were bothering fueled his own anger. And then he felt it, felt the rage start to consume him. He was changing….
Chapter Five
Watson followed the DNA trail left by Holmes and Wiggins until he came upon the park that sat in the center of town. Actually it was large enough to rival Central Park in New York, and Watson was glad that he was able to use his tracer without authorization. However, according to the amount of DNA he was reading, they were probably close by, so he wouldn't have had to go very far in anyway.
He walked until he came upon a clearing. A man was laying unconscious on the ground and Wiggins was feeling for a pulse on one of them. The boy looked up and smiled weakly when he saw the compudroid.
"Watson! Am I glad to see you. I lost track of Mister Holmes and then I got jumped by these two…"
"Lost track of Holmes?" Watson interrupted, confused, "But my tracer says he's here in this clearing with us…" Then he shook his head. "No matter, what happened to them?"
Wiggins shook his head slightly. "That's weird…" he mumbled, to himself. Then, louder, "You're never gonna believe me."
"Try me," Watson said, slightly amused.
"Okay. These two guys had jumped me, almost right after I lost track of Holmes. At first they were just messing with me you know, calling me names and stuff. Then the taller guy grabbed my arms—I don't know how he knew I'm a fighter, because it was in a way that I couldn't get out—and the shorter one punched me in the gut. Some guy—I think I saw him earlier at the inn—came along and tried to get their attention off of me, but they pushed him into those trees." He paused and frowned. "I guess he must have run away when that creature came…hope he's all right…"
"Wiggins," Watson admonished gently, "Please continue…"
"Right. So anyway, this creature came from out of nowhere. It was like some kind of green muscle man, only bigger. It picked this guy up like he was a rag doll and threw him much the same way. He landed where he's at now and hasn't moved since. The other guy ran off as soon as he saw it."
"And where is this creature now?" Watson asked, skeptically, "I suppose it just ran off when it heard me coming?"
"Well, yeah. It did. You can see where it crashed through the trees." The boy pointed, and Watson could indeed see the damage done.
"Oh my."
"Yeah." Then, "Watson, you don't think one of this guy is Mister Holmes do you?"
Watson opened his mouth to immediately deny the suggestion. It was absurd even to consider it! And yet, with the way Holmes had been acting lately….it could very well be possible. He sighed. "I don't know, Wiggins. There's only one way to find out."
He adjusted the tracer slightly and waved his scanner over the unconscious form. Unfortunately, Wiggins' theory proved correct and Watson had to take a few minutes to compose himself before telling the boy. Whatever could Holmes have been thinking? And what did that creature Wiggins had seen have to do with it?
Watson lifted the man up and, motioning for Wiggins to follow, set off for the inn. Whatever was going on, he was bound and determined to find out.
Once at the inn, he had Wiggins go and fetch the others, then took Holmes to the private lobby and sat him in a chair. After checking for concussion or other forms of damage and determining that the detective was fine aside from a few bruises, he gave him a minor electric jolt.
Holmes woke up and clasped his head. For a minute he looked disoriented—and terrified—before he caught sight of Watson. The detective broke into a grin. "Watson! How are you old chap? Eh, why am I wearing a beard?"
Watson shook his head, keeping his features firm and disapproving. "Don't play games with me, Holmes. I know you're up to something, and I want to know what it is. You and your friend could have hurt Wiggins badly. What would Inspector Lestrade have to say?"
Holmes frowned and scratched his chin, making the fake beard and mustache come off. "Since when do I care what Lestrade thinks? Look," he said quickly when Watson's face grew dangerously thunderous, "I am completely and utterly bored. Does that answer your question?"
"No," Deidre said from the doorway, "It doesn't. You haven't been acting like yourself at all lately, Mister 'olmes."
Tennyson and Wiggins, flanking her, agreed loudly.
Holmes' eyebrow rose haughtily. "I'm afraid I really don't need the advice of children. Please do leave. Go play with your toys or something." The Irregulars looked at Holmes in hurt shock, and Watson shooed them from the room. After making sure they were gone, he turned back to the detective. "Well, now I know you aren't who you say you are. Whatever has happened, is it really worth insulting those kids? No, don't answer that. Either you let me in on it, or I will keep you confined to your room. Don't think I won't!"
Holmes just shrugged sadly. "Nothing is really worth anything anymore. I was bored, so I decided to see what it would be like on the other side. That's all. It isn't much better than this side. What's left to live for? Love? Humanity? Meaningless drivel. Now, if you'll excuse me—unless you want your circuits fried—you will let me go. I have some thinking to do."
Watson stood aside as Holmes brandished the weapon. It was a higher power ionizer than the ones used by New Scotland Yard, and was very dangerous. He was concerned about the detective, but pushing him into something reckless would not solve anything. He would just have to bide his time, and continue searching for information. There was no way he could believe that Holmes was 'just bored'. It just couldn't be.
As he walked up the stairs after the detective had left, he heard a commotion outside. He ran back down and out the doors to find a crowd hovering over a body in the street.
"Excuse me! I'm a level 7 law enforcer compudroid with medical expertise. Let me through. The crowd parted, but before he could get to the body—which had on the same clothes as Holmes—a couple of men wearing radiation suits pushed everyone back.
"Sorry, danger of radiation poisoning. I'm afraid you're going to have to step away. This guy's already dead."
"How do you know?" Watson challenged. It's not Holmes. It's not Holmes. It can't be Holmes.
"Because the ionizer he used to shoot him with causes death instantly. And leaks radiation like a fountain. You can see the burns on his body can't you?"
Watson sank back. It was Holmes.
A/N: Sorry again about the shortness. Don't worry…everything will make sense. Eventually.