Chapter 6: The boy meets the soldier

John realized he was right about the identity of the man in front of him even when the man himself was confused and didn't know it. He was also right about the fact that he had seen him before. This man whose eyes had become fearful a second after he had said his name was Sherlock Holmes still alive after 15 years.

"Sherlock, my name is John, John Watson. Nice to meet you." John held his hand out to shake it but Sherlock didn't move. Shocked. 'Good let's see how we get him out of this.'

"Sherlock you don't look too good. How about we sit down a minute?" John took Sherlock's arm, not really pulling but leading the way to a low wall, both sitting down. "Take a deep breath for me." Sherlock did so. "Very good."

Sherlock's head turned to look at John again. His eyes were searching for something familiar to explain why someone knew his name. Not finding what he was looking for John could watch how a mask slipped onto his face a bit like his big brother. John had to smile a sad smile. Both of the brothers wore masks most of the time and for him, always an open book, it didn't feel healthy.

"Who are you and why are you suddenly sad?" A bit unsecure about the situation Sherlock added: "Did I do something wrong?" Sherlock didn't understand sadness even if this is what he felt often but it always got quickly buried before surfacing and causing a punishment. But John didn't know that.

"It might sound a bit strange but I am sad because of you. Because someone hurt you and that can't be changed anymore." John was happy about the fact that Sherlock was talking to him at all and not running away. By god he had no reason.

"Don't worry about that, my head is better now and my broken bones were fixed. It will heal." Sherlock tried to soothe him, the boy wasn't totally lost like some of John's colleagues thought.

"I don't mean that kind of hurt. It is probably the craziest thing you will ever hear but you don't belong here. Someone took you when you were a child. A small child. I don't think you even remember being someplace else. And that's what makes me sad. That someone took you from your home and family and forced you to live a life you were never supposed to have." John saw disbelieve in Sherlock's eyes and the wall he had built around his heart to protect himself went up again.

"Yes, sure I was kidnapped as a child... Sorry to disappoint you, but I was always with Master, no one took me." John lifted an eyebrow at the word 'master'.

"So you think it's normal to have to call your guardian 'Master'?" Sherlock hid his feelings about this question well but his thinking process was clearly visible. John carried on. "Where are your parents? You know you must have parents." Sherlock stood up, to leave.

"Master is my family. I don't need parents." He had had enough of this conversation, the soldier's words had hit him deep inside where all the things he wasn't allowed to think about were hidden. He turned to leave. The soldier stayed sitting on that wall.

"What about your brother?" Sherlock stopped but didn't look back. "He has been looking for you for fifteen years. Never gave up hope. Always thought he would one day find you again." Seeing that this worked, the soldier continued. "He told me how you got lost. You were together in a book shop and he was holding your hand. You were only four and he told you not to let go of his hand. But somehow you two got separated and he couldn't find you anymore." Sherlock turned back to the soldier who had just described the dream he had had for the last weeks but he had though it had been only a dream. A dream he wasn't supposed to have.

"Whatever, I need to go back." Sherlock couldn't think about it now. He had to sort out the information and… he stopped his thinking 'why should he believe what the soldier said, just because he knew Sherlock's name? No he had to go back or he would be punished for being late. His injuries weren't an excuse anymore'.

"Do you think the life you are living is a good one?" The soldier spoke again. "Do you really think helping bad people to do bad things better is a good line of work?" The soldier knew how to push every weak spot Sherlock had. "I saw you all those years ago at the scene of that terror act. I think you were the one who gave that human piece of trash the ability to destroy the hope of a whole city. Do you even remember that day? The day you threw away your heart? I remember it. I saw how you locked it away because it hurt you." Sherlock couldn't say a thing. Of cause he remembered it. The last time he had really felt something hurt.

"But this is not your fault. That someone who took you made you do it. You just tried to survive. Your 'Master' isn't the man you should run to. Think about the things you felt that day, and every day before you gave up on those feelings because they hurt too much. You are smart. You will figure it out. I will not take you with me. I would change nothing. You have to make the choice yourself." John (the soldier had become 'John' before he knew it) stood up and walked back toward his base without turning around. Leaving Sherlock there, alone. Doubting his whole life.

As John left the confused Sherlock alone he felt a bit worried but he knew he couldn't just take the boy with him. Sherlock had to choose it by himself, he had to understand the situation he was in and also understand that there are people who were willing to help him, that there still was a family waiting for him. That was all John could and would do.

The first thing he did was knock on his boss' door. Mycroft Holmes was staying here close to his brother's assumed whereabouts. This was no surprise after he had lost Sherlock again. Apparently he was able to do most of his work without being in London or he made it work somehow.

Like John had feared, his boss was not only angry at him but furious because he had let Sherlock go. It took him a good twenty minutes to calm him down and explaining that taking Sherlock would be just another kidnapping. He had to make the choice to come back. John was sure it wouldn't take long for the boy to overthink his situation and he hoped that he would make the right decision.