The Silent Game
The Golem's Silence
As they walked down the alleyway, the cab having stopped the mouth to the large, dark space, Sherlock looked up, watching the stars between the roofs of the buildings either side of them. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
At his slightly awed tone, Rose snapped out of her troubled thoughts of brothers and doctors, looking first to Sherlock then to the sky, seeing a thousand shining stars, peppered across the velvet black sky, like a fine, sparkling, diamond dust.
"Very." She agreed, looking up to her friend once more. "Thought you didn't care about that sort of thing."
"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it." He replied, voice loosing it's awed tone, going a little darker.
They were silent until they got to a series of tunnels, old brickwork for walls, the concrete floor wet with rain water and probably other things that Rose simply didn't want to think about. "Listen, Alex Woodbridge had a message on the answer phone at his flat, from a Professor Cairns."
Sherlock didn't acknowledge this new information though. "This way."
Rose sighed, following her insane friend. "Lovely part of town this, though I do wish you'd explain what we're doing here."
"Homeless network." Sherlock told her. "Really is indispensable."
"Homeless network?" She asked, not quite understanding fully.
Sherlock just smiled slightly though. "My eyes and ears all over the city."
"Ah, that's…clever. Brilliant, really." She complimented, wishing she had brought a torch with her. "So, you scratch their backs, and…?"
"Yes, then I disinfect myself." Sherlock answered, a little humour in his tone, though nearly everyone would miss it. Rose did though and smirked at the sound.
Sherlock apparently had not been caught unprepared and took out two torches, handing one to the young woman, getting a quiet "ta" in return.
As the looked about the tunnels, Rose found she was once again grateful that life had been relatively kind to her; she had a roof over her head and a very nice job - if a little dangerous at times - earning a nice wage. These people had barely anything. Rose moved the torch though, the spot of light finding a large figure unfolding itself carefully; she knew that if it wasn't the Golem, it certainly wasn't a friendly person.
"Sherlock, come on!" She hissed, pulling him gently to hide behind a brick wall, the pair of them standing under a graffitied fire exit sign. "How come he's sleeping rough?"
Sherlock poked his head round their hiding place before turning back to her, calm as could be. "Well, he has a very distinctive look. He has to hide somewhere where tongues wont wag…much."
Rose then saw Sherlock bolt out of their hiding place and run as fast as he could towards the shadow of the man. Rose was just behind him, seeing a pale figure of a man get into a sleek black car just before it drove away in a cloud of smoky gas and water.
"No, no, no, no!" Sherlock exclaimed, throwing his arms around, stomping in a circle as he did so. "It'll take us weeks to find him again!"
Rose had a better use for her time though. "Or not. I think I know where he might be going."
Sherlock's head snapped to hers at this new information. "What?"
She started to make her way back to the road, turning as she walked so she was going backwards, smirking to him. "I told you!" She called back to him, smirk growing as he started to follow her. Makes a nice change, she thought. "Someone left Mr Woodbridge a message. There can't be that many Professor Cairns in the book. Hurry up!"
Strong, bright lights shone from the projector as the woman moved switches on the control panel, a man's voice sounding out loudly through the auditorium. "Jupiter, the fifth planet in our solar system, and the largest. Jupiter is a gas giant. Planet Earth would fit into it 11 times."
"Yes, we know that." She replied to the voice that wouldn't do the same, fingers pressing several other buttons, the sounds of a tape fast forwarding replacing the male voice. "Come on, Neptune."
She heard a door bang behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge; thought there was just me here. Holding her hand up to block the blinding light, she called out, "Tom, is that you?" On hearing no reply, she went back to her work, putting the strange noise down to a cleaner or something of the sort, the male voice ringing out again, giving facts about the universe to an audience of one, who had heard it all before anyway.
Suddenly a hand covered her face, large fingers pressing hard against her delicate skin, the fingertips gripping tightly. She moved her own hands up on instinct, trying to pry the hand away. It was too strong though and she couldn't breath.
"Golem!" A strong, deep voice rang out, heard over the scientific voice and the muffled cries of the woman.
Rose took out the gun, aiming it past Sherlock and towards the taller man who was in the middle of a murder, taking a steadying breath to stop the slight tremor in her hand; she couldn't afford to miss a shot at this point.
The lights went out then, flickering on and off as the tape did strange things that was surly not good for the equipment. "I can't see him." Rose cried out, panic starting to set in now.
Sherlock heard the emotion in her voice though, calling out her name to steady her thoughts. It worked as her thoughts froze for the briefest moment, then starting up again in a logical fashion; lights are not on, go fix the lights, see the killer, don't die. "I'll go round!" She called back to him, running off in the direction of the lighting panel she had noticed earlier.
Sherlock knew she needed the distraction and called out loudly. "Who are you working for this time, Dzundza?"
Rose flicked a switch just above a small red light, the lights coming on again. Thank god for generalisation in stage work, she thought randomly, glad that she had recognised the black out switch easily. Looking down on the stage however, she saw - now it was flooded with light - Sherlock stood facing her, looking around the room quickly. But she also saw the tall multicoloured shadow creep up behind him, strong, deadly hands reaching out. "Sherlock!" She screeched at the top of her voice.
Sherlock heard her call, the sound letting fear seep into his system a second before hands covered his face, his airways cut off. He tried to get the hand off his face, but it didn't work.
Rose ran down the steps as fast as she could, coming to a stop in front of the struggling detective and the murdering assassin. "Golem! Let him go!" She demanded, aiming the gun at the taller man.
The Golem moved around though, never keeping still, trying to keep Sherlock in front of him. Sherlock himself looked Rose in the eye and tapped the Golem's wrist repeatedly; a sign to shoot the man now. She couldn't though, she didn't want to hit her friend by mistake.
Sherlock saw her hesitance and knew what she was thinking. Now is not the time to be nice to people, he thought irritably. He looked her in the eye though, eyes widening a little and nodded as much as he could.
She saw the movement and it gave her strength; he wanted her to shoot. She still had to give the other man a chance though, she couldn't just shoot. "Let him go now, or I will shoot." She stated calmly, the ice in her tone matching Sherlock's when he spoke to Anderson. Sherlock heard the tone and decided he never wanted to hear it from her again; she really was willing to kill.
Through all of the little signs and signals that the young woman and the detective were making, Dzundza had been planning, quickly and on the spot. He had moved forward enough now and put his on-the-spot plan into action.
Rose watched as Sherlock was thrown to the floor, concern for her friend making her look to see if he was alright rather than watch the killer. The killer himself kicked a leg up and hit the back of her hand, the gun falling away across the floor. In a spilt second, the Golem had thrown Sherlock to the floor, disarmed Rose and was now choking her instead. He brought up a knee, ramming it hard into her ribs, receiving a satisfying grunt of pain from the young woman.
Sherlock pulled himself up off the floor, and tried to pull Rose way from the Golem, only to be knocked down again, landing with a grunt as he was slightly winded. He had managed to pull Rose with him though, the young woman lying next to him, trying to catch her breath once more as the detective got up for another round with the freakishly tall killer.
Putting up his fists, Sherlock drew the Golem's attention away from the injured woman, though he started to have second thoughts as the tall and imposing man approached him, arms by his side, walking like some creature you would see off of the television films John and Rose sometimes watched. Sherlock threw a predictable punch, but it was quickly blocked by an anticipating arm, the companion of which quickly slammed down on the violent limb, sending Sherlock to the floor for a third time. He was getting quite sick of the floor.
However, the hard wood floor wasn't his main concern as the Golem once again covered his face, this time with both hands. It was a second later that Sherlock saw Rose's face peer over the Golem's shoulder as she threw both arms around the tall man's neck.
The plan didn't quite go as planned though, the Golem standing straight, lifting her up off the floor by about a meter or so, her legs automatically wrapping around the man's waist in an attempt to hold on as he tried to shake her off. She briefly caught Sherlock's confused looking face as she was thrown about. She would have laughed if they were not in such a deadly situation.
Sherlock watched his friend hold on for dear life for a brief second, his mind almost blank apart from the vague thought of what…? It was after that second that he snapped out of his thoughts, deciding he should probably be helping her instead of sitting on the floor just watching.
As he got up though, Rose was pulled from the Golem's back and literally thrown at Sherlock, knocking the man flying once more. As he landed though, he felt the gun beneath his knee and pulled it up, aiming and shooting a few bullets at the retreating form of the Golem. Barely a second later, the distinctly visible man wasn't visible anymore, having run through the doors to the auditorium, his escape having been made.
"Damn it!" Sherlock shouted, pounding a fist onto the floor.
Rose looked up from where she was crumpled on the floor, having learned the valuable lesson that she didn't like to be thrown about like a rag doll. "You alright Sherlock?"
Sherlock heard his companion question him and was reminded that she was injured a fair bit. He looked over to her, eyes scanning her form for any permanent damage; her throat was red - again - and she seemed to wince with every breath she took. "I'm fine, but are you? How's your ribs?"
She pulled herself up, walking over to him and offering him a hand, which he took, allowing her to help pull him up, taking the gun with him and handing it back to her. "Oh, my ribs are fine, but why do they always go for the bloody throat?"