Ooh, this is another one where I get to tackle one of my favorite parts of being able to write fic: A perspective not explored otherwise in canon.

I suppose this comes from my repeated re-watches of 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band,' but this will explore the vigil in Helen Stoner's room from Holmes's perspective instead of Watson's.

Also yes, I am aware that this is prompt 16 for Chapter 15, but since I am behind, and this came to me first, this is the first chapter out of 15 and 16. Needed to swap for time's sake!
As such, all warnings will apply here for that story: Murder, fear, death by a snake, and, in general, creepiness.
Away we go, on with the show.

From YoughaltheJust: All is dark and quiet

Silent Night, Tense Night


"I do have some scruples about taking you to-night, Watson."

In my field, I often needed to go into places where danger and the threat of an attack lurked around many corners.

But this? Even I felt a twinge of fear in my chest as Watson and I sprinted down from the shell-house towards the signal that Helen Stoner had lit for us.

This was deep, dark waters indeed. And carries with it deadlier potential than what I know of.

And that was what made me afraid. Mostly, not for myself, but for Watson, who'd been with me through this tangled web, and Helen Stoner, so stricken with fear her hair had gone white early.

If I fail here, then it is Miss Stoner's life.

And ours.


We entered through the open window, sliding off our shoes as Watson and I dropped down quietly into the room where Julia Stoner died—and where Helen Stoner had been forced to stay until she came to us with her singular chain of events that spelled danger and death, should she not have come.

Watson, even though he had only been living with me for two years now, held a brave face as we crept into the room, hand clenched tightly around his gun.

"We must sit without light," I warned as we crept further in.

I am aware that following me into this danger when we've hardly lived most of our time together would be rather foolish.

And it would be natural if Watson wanted nothing to do with this affair. And yet… he was still here.

I suppose after being in Afghanistan, this is something he can be brave for, too. Courageous heart, indeed.

A moment of pride flickered in my chest as I leaned over after shutting the window, whispering into his ear, "Do not fall asleep. Your very life may depend on it."

Watson's gaze met mine in the darkness as he gave a nod, pursing his lips together to show that he understood and wouldn't talk—even the slightest sound would give the both of us away to Doctor Roylott and throw Miss Stoner's life back into danger.

And that is not something I'm willing to do. Watson took up a spot on the other side of the room, near where the lamp lay, placing his gun on the table before him.
The air was still and silent, with the brief scent of a hurriedly burnt match—Miss Stoner's, given the time. The candle lay beside the book of matches near the lamp, and I reached for both, hand trembling.

Trembling? The part of me that would have scowled at this display of fear would have not done such a thing.

And yet… that is if I know the danger. I still do not know what it is. Given the ventilator, it is most likely an animal, but what?

And as much as I kept up a bravado about not being fearful for my safety, it wasn't necessarily true.

Even I feared that which I didn't know. Being cast into darkness with an unknown danger, with two lives in my hands?

I do believe it would make anyone afraid. I laid the match and the candle on the bed to resemble Miss Stoner, hand still trembling as I closed it.

All of what can go wrong is going around in my mind… what if we are found? What if nothing comes? What if, indeed?

But wondering what if is not going to get us anywhere. So, fighting the fear, I reached out, flicking off the lamp and plunging the room into darkness.


All is dark and quiet.

Not a sound stirred in the room nor a sliver of moonlight. The only thing I could make out was the faint sight of the ventilator.

All is dark and quiet.

I could not hear either myself or Watson breathing as we looked up at the ventilator in nervous agitation.

What would come out? Am I able to stop it?

All is dark and quiet.

Night birds keened outside as Watson shifted, straightening up behind me.

This would have been Miss Stoner's night before she came to us. Wondering and waiting for something she could not see.

"It was the band! The Speckled Band!"

I will also readily admit that I did not originally want to believe in the cleverness of women. The fairer sex was Watson's field.

But this? This was nothing cleverness, nor could anyone stop in Scotland Yard. There was nothing she could do.

To come to me was indeed wise… and clever to keep her stepfather at bay.

"It is a wicked world when a clever man turns his brain to crime…"

And wicked it was. All matter of men feared the dark to some degree. It hid danger, predators, and death, to much of our kind.

To plant something in a room to keep one safe against the darkness?

Wicked indeed.

All is dark and quiet.


The hours ticked by, with each passing moment Watson and I sat in those darkened walls. When would Julia Stoner's murderer show its face?

All is dark and quiet.

A faint whistle sounded then like steam being released, with a sudden bang and sliding of metal.

And a strong scent of tobacco. I got to my feet, grabbing the book of matches to light the candle, throwing the room into the light again. Behind me, Watson tensed, grabbing his gun.

In front of me? On the false bell pull, slithering down towards the bed was a snake hissing faintly.

Of course! But I must move!

I snatched my cane up, immediately thrashing the snake as it came further down. "Do you see it, Watson? Do you see it?" I yelled, my strikes furious to ward it off.

It hissed, rousing its snakish temper, and slithered back up the bell-pull and into the ventilator.

It is over. I glanced behind me, the knot of fear dissolving as I noticed Watson, unharmed and looking up at the ventilator. "Holmes?" Asked he.

A thick cry pierced the air, furious and full of hate at first, before rising in pitch to the throes of death—

All is not dark and quiet.

Before cutting off with a choking gasp and groan. "What can it mean?" Watson hissed as I grabbed the cane off of the bed.

"It means it is all over, and perhaps for the best," I said. And they are both safe to-night from this scheme that Roylott had crafted.

All is dark and quiet again.


And that's it for this chapter. It was a bit of a quick one, mainly because the scene I took it from is short in the first place, but I've always wanted to try Holmes's night vigil in the Speckled Band from his perspective.

His thoughts on women here are strange, as according to the Chronology, 'A Scandal in Bohemia' is five years after 'The Speckled Band' in 1888. Yet, he treated Helen Stoner just fine, despite what 'A Scandal in Bohemia' might say. So I decided to add some depth to this to explore Holmes's mind during this time.

Quotes in italics are taken directly from, 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band,' as it's taken both directly from the story, and the Granada adaptation of the same story(I adore the music it adds to the night vigil.)

Lastly, my references are: 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band,' 'A Scandal in Bohemia,' 'A Study in Scarlet,' partially, 'The Adventure of the Copper Beeches,' 'The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist,' and 'A Study in Green and Blue.'
Next chapter: Why don't we catch up with Mrs. Hudson?

Cheers,
Blue