Chapter 6: How Men Became Machines~
The next thing they decided to do was form a case. Since Sherlock was usually given the files,and asked to solve from them, Greg brought him to the Yard to interrogate him,and form a file that he would ,in turn, solve himself. With him came Mycroft, John and Mary. And Sergeant Donovan, sworn to secrecy, was brought in as witness.
"Ok, Sherlock."Greg began, shuffling the papers. "So, first, tell me...what you can remember?...about the day you had your accident?Why were you in that warehouse on the Thames? Who had your sister?"
John shifted ,uncomfortably. Mycroft and Mary sat stairing into Oblivion. Neither could remember a single thing, Mary being too traumatized, why they did not yet know,and Mycroft having strategically wiped it from his mind.
But Sherlock's mind was almost too brilliant for his own good,and it began to remember. He looked up suddenly, and the stoic detective they knew vanished from their young man was terrified, like somebody coming to from a coma. His eyes, silver and green all at once,were on fire,as if they were florescent, with sudden unwept tears. His mouth opened,and closed, in a silence as loud as lions. John licked his lips, suddenly very nervous at the sight of was not his Sherlock. He reached,and discreetly took his shaking hand in one of his own, like a doctor sometimes does for a dying patient.
"Sherlock?" Greg asked, throat having shrunk. This image ,of his almost robotic consoltant, and friend, was very unsettling.
" Not, my mother..."Sherlock's mouth gaped then, remembering something their darkest nightmares never witnessed. His teeth pointed almost like fangs in the expression of his agony.
John squeezed his hand. In response, he gasped, and swallowed, still fighting, frightened by his supressed emotion.
"My mother...Chaya Goldier- Holmes, the daughter of a man who escaped Auschwitz,and later became an agent of Britain, had stolen a file-gave it to his daughter- plot for a secret vendetta the remaining Nazi's had for the Queen of England, who escaped them. An assasination plan...only...with...torture...like..." Sherlock swallowed a sob, that sounded more like a dying gasp. And then Mycroft began to remember too, and let a harsh breath,hiding his mouth in his hand.
"Like they performed on my mother...when she wouldn't..."Sherlock's eyes fluttered,and roamed the room, "Killed my mother...made me watch! Then,they wanted my sister... I wouldn't tell them where- but I knew...I knew where.I promised to come back for her-they took me, tried to get me to tell them where...I hid her...And...when I wouldn't tell them," suddenly he laughed, a sharp, hysterical laugh, "They burned me!And I nearly died...My sister..."Suddenly Sherlock was animal-desperate. Reached across the table and siezed Greg by the jacket. Greg's blood had gone cold.
"What...what happened to her?! Is she..." he was trembling,almost going into convulsions.
"She's here,... with us, that's why we're doing this..."Sally said ,slowly,feeling faint. Sherlock gave Greg a super-human shake, just one ,but enough to make his eyes roll.
"I FAILED her. They must have gotten her...she wasn't in the hiding spot..."His mouth gaped,and he let go. "Oh God...what have I..what have I DONE?! My sister...God knows what they..."
He leaped to his feet. "I FAILED her!" he wailed. "And you!," he spun on Mycroft viciously, who let out a choked sob, and tried not to look at him,as he menacingly paced around him, like a snake in hot ashes, "You saved me,from that fire... You forgave me! CURSE YOU!" he slapped the desk, and everyone flinched. He wasn't just distraught. He was manic. "You saved me...You taught me-gave me the power to create the machine that I am!"
John felt his heart squeezing the breath out of him, coiling in his chest like a viper, "Alright, stop it now!" he gasped.
"I FAILED!" Sherlock shouted, "And was allowed to live, even for my sin! We went into the Key family's home. Lindor pretended to be our brother, until he killed..oh never mind. Has to matter, doesn't it?But the Keys hated me, because of all the posions, because of the experiments, because of what I turned my genius in to,the skills I created, using your research!" he hissed in Mycroft's ear. His elder brother was biting back tears."
"I became a machine, and used the posion to change my blood to oil, with the needles. To become a machine, to forget... Until I took too much...And -curse you!- if you didn't end up saving me AGAIN! WHY?! WHY COULDN'T YOU . ?! Meddlesome...brother...mine. "Sherlock's voice died away in a hiss...
Mycroft looked up from his threatening tears. "I did it because I loved you, you were still my little brother... despite your needles."
"I am no one's brother! I can't be loved, or even hated! I don't have feelings, I don't have friends! I AM A MACHINE!" he cried,voice gone.
Even Sally was on the verge of tears now.
"And you...you should have let me die...Why did you let me live?"
Mycroft smiled sadly, "Because God was watching, Sherlock. He saw...that Sherry was still alive. She's here-don't you see- we've finally found her again, we finally remember what we swore to forget..."
Sherlock was panting, turned around sharply, "I don't see! I only know my failure! What is the machine that doesn't serve its uses! Why didn't you..."
"Because you were my brother, a man after my own heart."
"A man?! Ha, I am not HUMAN! I don't even bleed!"
"Wrong!, all wrong..."John cried, leaping to his feet, having had enough. "You are the most human human that I have ever known...and I saw you bleed, all over the side walk...all over the..."
He took 3 strides,and took Sherlock in his arms, who was suddenly softly crying, wretchedly.
"It's ok...It's over now..."he said, making him stoop ,propping his head on his shoulder.
Mary stood up, "No, no you are very human. Of course...you're my "Sherbert."
Sherlock responded in shock to the childhood nickname. "Sh-sherry! You...you're..."
Sherlock Holmes grew light in the head, nearly (only nearly) passing out. And then, covering his mouth, like he was going to vomit, he ran from the room, the Watsons at his heels.
Mycroft bowed over his knees,and softly cried into them.
Greg handed Sally his notes,and quietly asked her to type a file.
Sally Donovan would not sleep that night. And she would never call Sherlock Holmes a "freak" again...