Chapter 5: I know what you are hiding.
A/N: Thank you to all that are following, favoriting, and reviewing. I sent a reply to the commenter with an account and the replies to the guest reviews from the past four chapters will be at the end. Thanks for the continued support: D
~ TheCurlyGal6218
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock BBC. I own Elise and my OCs/ original ideas.
/
Elise sat on the back of the ambulance. One of the paramedics had draped an orange blanket across her shoulders before doing the same for her annoyed father. Apparently, it was supposed to help with shock and trauma.
Elise was definitely shocked, but she did not think it stretched as far as traumatizing. Then again, she was no doctor.
The cabbie was dead, shot by a stranger. She could not look at him as he writhed on the floor in excruciating pain so she did not. Her eyes stayed firmly closed after the piercing gunshot. However, the conversation between her father and the wounded killer etched firmly in her mind.
"Was I right?" the detective asked.
No response.
"I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right?"
Still, nothing but whimpers of pain.
"Okay, tell me this: your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me – my 'fan'. I want a name."
"No." the man uttered weakly.
"You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name."
"You... Would not… hurt me… in front of… her." The cabbie coughed and Elise hear him spit out a mouthful of liquid. Blood.
The teen heard shuffling and there was a cry of pain.
"Her eyes are closed. A name."
Elise peeked through her closed eyelids before opening them fully.
Her father towered over the man, his foot digging painfully into his shoulder
"Now."
She quickly pressed them closed.
"Dad, you don't have to-"
Jeff whined loudly in discomfort. His face manic, Sherlock leaned his weight onto his foot.
"The NAME!"
"MORIARTY!"
His eyes fluttered and his head rolled to the side. Sherlock stepped back, turning his head away and reflecting what just happened. After a few seconds, he silently mouthed the name.
Elise opened her eyes hesitantly.
"Is he…" she swallowed hard. "Is he dead?"
"Yes."
Moriarty…
/
Elise watched as a familiar grey headed DI came closer to the ambulance.
"Hey, Lestrade." She greeted cheerfully. He looked at her suspiciously for a moment. Of course he expected her to look frightened, why wouldn't he? Nevertheless, Elise was stubborn. Weakness would not be shown unless it was truly dire. While what she had witnessed was gruesome in its own right, the killer was off the streets. That's all that truly mattered.
That and the fact that no one else was harmed.
"Hello Elise."
"Why have I got this blanket?" Sherlock asked. "They keep putting this blanket on me."
"They said it was for shock, daddy."
"I'm not in shock."
"Yeah," Lestrade piped up. "But some of the guys want to take pictures."
He grinned evilly while the consulting detective scowled.
"So, the shooter." He said briskly. "No sign?"
The DI sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face tiredly. "Cleared off before we got 'ere. A person like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him but ... got nothing to go on."
The detective looked at him pointedly. "I wouldn't say that."
Lestrade rolled his eyes. "Ok, gimee."
He stood up. "The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a hand gun. Kill shot over that distance from that kind of a weapon – that's a crack shot you're looking for, but not just a marksman; a fighter. His hands could not have shaken at all, so clearly he is acclimatized to violence. He did not fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service..."
His eyes trailed over to the police tape. There stood John Watson, his hands in his pockets, a nervous expression on his face.
"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me."
Elise stood in befuddlement, not noticing the moment between her father and the army doctor.
"What? Why?"
"Ignore all of that. It's just the, err, the shock talking."
He grabbed Elise's hand and began walking toward John.
"Where are you going?" Lestrade blustered.
"I need to talk about the-the rent."
"But I've still got questions."
Elise broke free of his grip. "Yeah. Besides, we can talk to John at home."
Sherlock gave her a look and grabbed her hand again.
"Play along." He hissed.
Elise narrowed her blue eyes accusingly, but made no further objections.
"Sherlock?"
The man groaned and swiveled around. "Oh, what now? I'm in shock! Look, I have a blanket"
Elise held up her own orange fabric. "Uh… so do I."
"And we just caught you a serial killer, more or less."
Greg Lestrade looked at the pair thoughtfully, swirling his tongue over his teeth. "Okay." He eventually relented. "We'll bring you in tomorrow. Off you go."
The DI watched as Sherlock and Elise walked away, the detective not wasting any time to remove his blanket. Elise removed hers too, tossing it uncaringly to the side. A blanket that hideous of an orange would be no use to her not the tall man beside her.
John fidgeted as they grew ever closer.
"Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful."
Elise nodded, agreeing but Sherlock just stared at him a moment.
"Good shot." He said quietly
Elise stared at him with burning perplexity.
"What are you talking about? Good shot? That's… oh my gosh!" her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "It was you?" she said in a hushed whisper.
He shifted on his feet.
"Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case."
John nodded but continued to stare at his shoes.
Elise tentatively reached a hand out to set on his shoulder.
"You ok?" she asked.
"I'm fine." He said with a hard swallow.
"Well you did just kill a man." Sherlock said pointedly.
"Yes and your kid just witnessed that." He gave her a small hug. "I'm sorry."
She broke away after a few seconds and grimaced. "I'd rather not ponder that. God knows what would happen if I do."
The veteran's expression grew even more somber.
"He wasn't a very good man."
"There's always that."
"And frankly, he was a bloody awful cabbie."
Sherlock smiled. "That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!"
They burst out into laughter.
"Stop it! We can't giggle." John said breathlessly. "It's a crime scene."
"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me."
Elise kicked him in the shin and he winced at the force. "Dad! Someone will hear you! If he gets arrested, we'll have to find another flat mate." Her eyes glinted mischievously. "We might not be so lucky next time. This one actually puts up with you."
The veteran smiled genuinely at her as the group continued walking. He was glad to be appreciated among his newly found friends- if they could even be called that- but the guilt of what he had done was starting to catch up. While John Watson was no stranger to ending a life at the hands of a gun, that was in the midst of war. This was everyday life. It seemed to make it even more real, more morally defective. Alas, the past couldn't be changed. If you were going to make it in the world, that fact would have to be learned rather quickly.
"Were you really going to take the pill?" He needed to distract himself from his thoughts. Anything would help at this stage.
"Course I wasn't. Simply biding my time, knew you would show up.
"No you didn't. Its how you get your kicks isn't it? You risk your life to prove you are clever."
"Why would I do that?" he questioned.
"Because you're an idiot."
"And a liar." His daughter spoke up.
Sherlock scoffed. "At least I didn't cry when the so called gun was pulled."
The smile vanished from Elise's face, morphing eerily into an expressionless mask.
"Not good?" Her father quizzed guiltily.
"Nope."
Awkward silence. You could saw the tension with a knife. Of all the things Sherlock Holmes could've said in that moment, that had to be the absolute worst route to take.
"I didn't cry because a gun was pulled." She said finally. "I cried because that horrible man pointed it at you." Her fingers intertwined with his.
"I thought he was going to kill you."
"I knew the gun was a fake." Sherlock said quietly.
"Yeah, well I didn't." the teen snapped. She took a deep breath through her nose to calm herself down. All she honestly wanted to do was go to sleep.
"Dinner?"
"Starving." John said.
"Mrs. Hudson made stir-fry."
"Sounds good to me."
As they continued walking, a sleek black car pulled up a few yards ahead. An impeccably dressed man brandishing an umbrella gracefully stepped out, a texting woman with sleek black hair following.
"Sherlock, That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about." John pointed.
Sherlock looked across at the man.
"I know exactly who that is."
Elise sighed. "As do I."
She really wished that he hadn't picked this particular moment to make an appearance. Today had been extremely long and she had to face school tomorrow. All she really wanted to do was eat her late dinner and hit the hay. Perhaps she could be bothered to face him tomorrow.
Alas, the universe didn't agree with her.
Their little group walked closer to the man. John was on high alert, deciphering whether or not the near officers would be required to diffuse the seemingly dangerous situation. Father and daughter were only slightly more relaxed. Annoyance seemed to be the mutually dominate emotion in that instance.
"So, another case cracked." The tailored man spoke bitingly. "How very public spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it?"
"Well hello to you too." Elise retorted.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked with irritation.
"As ever, I'm concerned about you."
"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'." He glanced at John with a roll of his eyes.
"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"
"Oddly enough, no!"
"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer ... and you know how it always upset Mummy."
John frowned as the information settled into his head.
"I upset her? Me?" Sherlock asked incredulously. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."
"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asked
"Mother – our mother. This is my brother, Mycroft."
"My uncle." Elise added.
John stared at the man in amazement.
Sherlock sniffed, turning a moment to face the way they had come before zeroing in on his brother. "Putting on weight again?"
"Losing it, in fact."
Elise nodded in agreement. She strode over to her uncle. "Yep he's definitely less pudgy than I remember." She poked him in the stomach experimentally. "Did you cut cake out of your diet completely or are you simply lessening daily intake?"
He batted her hand away from him as if she was a fly.
"Stop that."
Elise shrugged and held her hands up in defense. "Just saying."
John cleared his throat and turned to the consulting detective, his breath billowing out in the cool London night. "He's your brother?"
"Of course he's my brother.
"So he's not ..." the blonde man trailed off.
"Not what?"
The brothers and child looked at John as he shrugged in embarrassment.
"I don't know – criminal mastermind?"
Mycroft grimaced at the implication and Elise laughed in amusement. That statement couldn't be even more untrue. The eldest Holmes despised getting his hands dirty, only doing so if absolutely needed. It was no surprise he had opted to employ a job with as little legwork at possible. Sherlock's career was a different story entirely, a clear testament of their differences.
Sherlock looked at Mycroft disparagingly.
"Close enough."
"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government."
"He is the British government," Sherlock argued. "When he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis."
Elise nodded. This was true. "Or when he decides that spying on me via CCTV isn't his highest priority."
The man sighed.
"Good evening, Mycroft." The younger Holmes boy said. "Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic."
With that, he grabbed his daughter's hand and headed towards Baker Street.
/
Elise shut the door to her new room with a relieved breath. Today had been quite the ordeal. She had chatted with a serial killer, stared down the shaft of a gun, (Well, it wasn't a real gun but she hadn't known that at the time.) and watched her father play a game of life or death with a now deceased cab driver.
Isn't life grand?
Tomorrow she would have to face going to school. Again, she had no problem with school other than the fact that it's mundaneness drove her towards insanity. While some of her lessons could be intriguing, most were dull compared to her detective work. At least she had her friends.
Elise truly loved her friends.
While she didn't have many, the few that she did have were extremely substantial. They put up with her anxiety and still managed to have fun together. She really was lucky.
As Elise tugged on the last of her pajama bottoms, a knock sounded at her door.
"Come in." she called, picking up a hair tie from her dresser.
Expression free from his face, Sherlock came bounding into the room. He had discarded his coat, but remained in his fitted suit, not yet changed unto his nightclothes. His hands were laced behind his back, clearly holding something.
"What's up?" she questioned curiously.
He didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to her bed, pulling out the object from behind him.
Elise stiffened as she heard the familiar jangling sound.
Her pills. Her anxiety medication.
She heaved a heavy sigh. Her shoulders sagged in defeat.
"How did you find out?"
He placed the bottle on the bed and propped his chin on his hand.
"Your near panic attack earlier this evening." He responded coolly. "While your attacks are spontaneous and are able to happen at any given time, you haven't had one over a dead body at all before now. There was one incident in the early days, but this was before you started taking meds. You're brain doesn't trigger an attack at the sight of a dead woman because you are used to seeing them."
He closed his eyes. "You spent a good amount of your childhood in a morgue surrounded by body parts and corpses. Furthermore, your hands." he pointed to the bandages. "Picking of your fingers has increased significantly over the past two days, signaling a state of distress. In that same forty-eight hour span, not once have you taken your daily dosage of medication. While I don't know why you have made the rather stupid decision not to take your pills as the doctor rightly directed, I'm assuming it has something to do with experimentation on your part. You wanted to see what would happen if you didn't indulge. Am I correct?"
Elise looked at the ground, her cheeks growing redder with each deduction. At times, she thought her dad was brilliant when it came to his skills. The same couldn't be said when he did it to her.
"Yes."
Sherlock's mask fell away, giving into his concerned parental side.
"You know that's not healthy. It could get you into serious harm with your mental state." He tilted her head up to look at him. "Promise me you won't ever experiment with your medication again."
"I won't." Elise said guiltily. "I'm sorry. I got curious and didn't want to feel like I needed them to be normal. I just wanted to do that on my own."
He smiled a bit. "Never be normal. It's dull and tedious."
She grinned blearily as her father gave her a kiss on the forehead.
"Thank you for being honest. I really don't think I could put up with your usual sarcasm at this late hour. From now on, I'll be checking to make sure that you take them." He straightened up and pulled out of their embrace. "Get some sleep. It's already a quarter past midnight and you have to get up early."
She nodded and clambered sleepily into bed, fending off a yawn threatening to escape.
"G' night daddy."
He shut off her light and closed the door.
Elise listened to his retreating footsteps as he ventured into the living room.
She expected him to play his violin, but he didn't. She figured that he opted to spend the night in his mind palace and maybe get some rest a bit later.
As she realized that getting to sleep would be quite the task tonight, her phone was retrieved from the position on her bedside. Tonight, her thoughts would plague her, relentlessly refusing her desire for unconsciousness. When this happened, she would plug her earbuds into her ears, and let music drift her to sleep.
Some nights it would be classical or blues, Maybe a slow pop or old country song. Sometimes she would listen to a recording of Sherlock playing his instrument, which was one of her favorite lullaby. When she was little, he would play for her almost every night when she had trouble sleeping. Today, she decided to listen to go for something a bit more modern
With that decision, Elise opened a playlist and was greeted with one of her most beloved tunes.
Soon, she drifted into a surprisingly easy sleep.
/
What a shame, what a shame we all remain
Such fragile broken few
A beauty have the trade, but if was opposed
Should wings still there are darkened glimpses deep in my heart
What once was blazing like now, there's a tiny scar
Oh glory, come and find me
Oh glory, come and find me
Dancing all alone
To the sound of an enemy's song
I'll be lost until you find me
Fighting on my own
In a war that's already been won
I'll be lost until you come and find me here, oh glory
Here
What a mess, what a mystery we've made
Put loving in the simple things
Loving to forgive
Even when it was an odd mistake
I question every human, who won't look in my eyes
Scars left on my heart formed buttons in my mind
Oh glory, you will find me
Dancing all alone
To the sound of an enemy's song
I'll be lost until you find me
Fighting on my own
In a war that's already been won
I'll be lost until you come and find me here, oh glory
Like the moon, we borrow our light
I am nothing but a shadow in the night
So if you let me, I will catch fire
To let your glory and mercy shine
/
A/N: The song at the end is called Part 2 By Paramore. I couldn't resist making her a fan of the band as they are one of my favorites. I would look them up if you don't already listen to them as they make REALLY good music. It helps that Haley Williams' hair is literally perfection :D. I don't belive this was one of my best chapters, but I hope you still liked it.
Thanks to all my reviewers! Please keep it up!