The Hidden War
Chapter Two
221b Baker Street
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"Holmes, this is the fourth time now we've done this." Watson said, gesturing towards the small mountain of luggage sitting next to his door.
Holmes only smiled as he walked over to the doctor, making sure to get just close enough that it was uncomfortable without implying anything.
"Yes, and every time, something of significant interest has chosen that exact moment to occur, and every time, you come crawling back to me because, and let's face facts here, you need me, Watson."
"No, I don't need you, and I don't need to nearly get killed yet again. And even if I was somehow mentally ill enough to repeat this whole charade, there hasn't been a case in a year." He forcibly picked up a suitcase to emphasize his next word, the word he hoped would be the last one he would say to Holmes for a long time. "Goodbye."
He opened the door, but saw a man standing there, an athletic, clean-shaven man with a beard, a white jacket, and denim trousers. Standing behind him were three women, wearing dresses of various astoundingly bright colors.
"Is Holmes in?" The bald man asked.
Watson glared in anger for a moment, before throwing down the suitcase and storming off, mumbling angrily to himself.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"So," said the woman in purple, as she walked in and looked at him with a vague sense of awe. "You're the great detective Holmes."
He shrugged slightly and stood up. "I'm the only person here by that name."
"Good." The man in the white jacket stepped forward, extending his hand. When Holmes merely stared at it, he retracted it and cleared his throat.
"My name is Jack Edwards, and I need your help."
Holmes brought his hands to his face, pressing them against each other in concern.
"You come from the American continent, yes?"
Jack nodded.
"And your colleagues?"
"These fine women come from the US as well. I have two others from here in England."
The detective cocked his head to one side. "Interesting. What do you have for me?"
Jack shrugged. "Nothing major. Just a threat to national security, possibly the world, most likely a plot that will kill millions of lives. Nothing that you haven't dealt with before."
Holmes raised an eyebrow. "I thought that Moriarty was dead."
"Watson thought you were dead." Jack pointed out.
"Fair enough."
Jack bit his lip, before speaking again. "It's not Moriarty, though. He's probably about as dangerous, but Moriarty is dead. Speaking of which, how did you manage to survive that fall?"
Holmes stood up. "I still think about it sometimes. That really should not have been survivable."
Jack smiled. "What if I told you I had an explanation?"
"Such as?"
Jack turned to Twilight. "Care to explain?"
She nodded. "Holmes, think of everything that's happened to you. Can you remember anything in great detail before you met Watson?"
"Well…Now that you mention it…I was never able to get much farther than that."
"Can you remember any significant events outside of your cases?"
Holmes paused, looking concerned. "No…"
"You know why that is? Because you're a fictional character."
The detective stared for a lengthy time, shocked as he thought about this.
"That's…not possible…"
Dash stepped up. "Then why is so much missing?"
"It…" He collapsed back into the chair, going over all the facts. "I shouldn't believe it…but I do."
"I have an explanation for that." Jack added. "See, there's a thing called the 'fourth wall', which is the separation between fiction and reality. All characters have some idea of the existence of the fourth wall, but their degree of awareness can vary wildly. My colleagues, for example, are fairly well aware of the existence of the fourth wall, so they accepted the fact that they are fictional quite readily. You, on the other hand, have minimal awareness of it, so although you find it quite impossible, you still recognize it as true."
Holmes looked away. "What of the fiction here?"
Jack grimaced. "Then it gets complicated."
Holmes gave no indication that he understood.
"Extremely complicated. Depending on the detail, it can get to several layers of fictional universes. Trust me, you don't want to get involved."
Holmes breathed deeply. "Everything I've ever done is just the…whim of some author?"
"Director, actually. There are many different versions of you. The 'you' you is part of a film series."
"Film series?"
Jack realized that movies didn't exist yet. "Imagine several colored images moving by per second, giving the illusion of motion, as well as a soundtrack to go with it. It's sort of like a play, but you only need the actors once, and you have a lot more freedom."
Holmes raised an eyebrow. "A fascinating concept."
And that was when Watson burst in, practically fuming.
"Holmes!" he shouted. "You can't honestly believe that nonsense!"
"What nonsense?" He asked innocently.
"That you and I are fictional characters portrayed by actors in some sort of motion play…thing!" He enunciated the last word by flapping his hands quickly.
"Really? Then can you remember anything specific since our last adventure?"
"Oh, you're honestly going to try and use that on me, Holmes? You can't even remember whether the earth goes round the…sun…" A look of realization crossed his face. "I…I can't remember. All I know is that business with Blackwood, Moriarty, and the last one…"
"Precisely." Holmes got up. "My guess is, since those were the only adventures portrayed by the actors, they are all we can remember in great detail."
"But…that's ridiculous, Holmes! No such technology could possibly exist, and even if it did, we are not fictional!"
"Really?" Twilight asked. "Have you ever seen someone do…this?"
She raised her hand, and both Holmes and Watson recoiled in horror as a piece of luggage floated over to her.
"How…" Watson began, before Twilight interrupted him by saying "Magic."
"There's no such thing as that." Holmes stated.
"Then how did that just float over to me?" Twilight challenged.
"There must be an explanation. Blackwood's magic was nothing more than trickery and illusion."
"But he had weeks to set that up. This is the first time you've ever met any of us, and Watson couldn't have had those prepared long enough for us to sneak in and manipulate them without you noticing. In fact, how could we have done that anyway? You can't just make objects float like that without some incredibly obvious method you would have noticed, 'detective'." She said the final word in a very condescending manner, to better emphasize her point.
"But…no…that…bluh…" Watson sputtered, before fainting dead away.
"Hold on." Holmes kneeled down onto Watson's chest, surprised looks crossing the faces of his guests. He slapped the doctor across the face several times.
"That…" Applejack started. "That…looks mighty questionable."
Holmes looked up. "What are you talking about?"
"GET OFF OF ME!" Watson yelled, suddenly waking up from his stupor. He pushed Holmes aside quite harshly, standing up and making a show of dusting himself off. "What in the world just happened?"
"We told you that you're a fictional character and then you fainted like a wimp." Dash said bluntly.
"Like a what?" Watson asked, not in anger, but confusion.
"A pansy." Jack offered.
Watson still looked confused.
Jack sighed. "You're an idiot, Watson."
"That was uncalled for!"
"Listen, right now, we've got more important things to worry about than what's going on. We're wasting time, and we have to do something. Now, would you two like to continue whining, or shall we actually go and get something accomplished?"
"My thoughts exactly," Holmes said, pushing past Jack and leaving.
"You don't even know where you're going." Twilight said, stopping the detective in his tracks on the steps leading down to the street.
"True enough." He turned around, but before entering back into the flat, the sharp report of a pistol rang out and the molding on the doorframe violently exploded, prompting him to duck down into the front hall, everyone already in the front hall to rush to cover, and everybody outside on the street to run away, screaming in a blind panic.
"Who the hell just shot that?" Jack yelled, looking cautiously out into the street. Not a single person was standing outside, so Jack assumed it would be safe to go out.
"An assassin, obviously." Holmes said in a strangely nonchalant tone. "Not a terribly good one, either."
"Dude!" Dash yelled, dropping any pretense of fitting in with the period. "You nearly just got shot and you don't care?"
"He missed." Holmes pointed out.
"So what, he missed! Somebody's out for you!"
"It's the Baron. It has to be. He must have hired an assassin to gun Holmes down who panicked at the last second and missed."
"Who is the Baron?" Holmes asked.
"He's who we're up against. Bad guy. Really bad. He wants to rule pretty much everything and he won't hold back to do it."
"Trust me, he knows what he's talking about." Rainbow Dash shuddered as she recalled the unpleasant memory of what the Baron had turned Equestria into. "It's not a pretty picture."
"And you need our help because?" Watson asked.
"Easy," Jack said, "you two are the main characters. You have more ability, more focus, and you're more likely to win against him."
"What about Mycroft? Or Lestrade? Or even Gregson" Holmes asked.
"In order, lazy, incompetent, and nobody cares."
"Mycroft's not lazy! He is merely…thoughtful."
"Just keep telling yourself that, Holmes." Jack waved his hand around vaguely, before turning back around and starting to leave again. "Now, will you please stop pissing around and come with me?"
The rest of the group began following him outside, the commotion earlier starting to die down. However, they barely got into the street at all before Holmes noticed something interesting on the doorstop.
"What's this?" He asked, picking up a plain white envelope. Jack quickly ran over and pulled it out of his hands, looking at the seal on the front.
"It's from the Baron." He said, ripping it open and pulling out a letter, reading it aloud.
To Whom It May Concern:
You may be convinced that the assassin I hired was, in fact, a total incompetent, but that is incorrect. He was intended as a warning, to show you that I have significant power in this new world, what with all of my money. I chose to be polite and give you the chance to give up right now and simply go back to your home and not do anything, rather than immediately kill you. However, make no mistake: if you continue with this nonsense, I will make every effort to end all of your lives.
Yours,
The Baron Vlad Klaus Von Schadenfreude
"So…" Dash started, "What do we do now?"
Jack threw the letter down, groaning in annoyance. "He's making fun of us! If he expects me to just sit by and let him win…"
"So you've made your decision then?" A steely voice came from inside the doorway. Jack wheeled around, seeing the Baron standing right there, in the flesh, smiling cruelly.
"So, you are the inimitable Baron Von Schadenfreude? Not a very subtle name."
The Baron merely shrugged in response. "I wanted to ensure that people would get the right idea about my person. So, would it be safe to assume that you have made the illogical decision to attempt to stop my plan?"
"Would you have expected anything else?" Jack replied.
"Considering who I'm talking to, no." The Baron laughed before drawing his sword and putting the point against Jack's neck.
"But I'm afraid I can't have you lot endangering my plans, so if you don't mind, I'm going to cut open your throat."
"One problem." Jack said, not giving away any hint that he was afraid of the Baron.
The Baron cocked his head to the side. "And that would be?"
"Holmes can get away with some pretty crazy shit."
As if he was waiting for the cue, the detective leapt forward and struck the Baron's legs out from under him. Jack leaped backwards, giving Holmes more room.
"You don't want to fight me, Holmes. You couldn't even beat Moriarty without nearly getting yourself killed."
Holmes tensed for a moment, before running off in a random direction.
"Good decision." The Baron snapped his fingers, disappearing in a puff of black smoke.
"Watson, go get Holmes and head to 500 Bradbury. We'll meet you there."
"So…he knows we're here." Applejack stated.
Jack nodded solemnly. "Yeah, he knows we're here. Now, all we have to do is figure out what he's planning."
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