The Thinker Challenge | By : marksandspence Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 2251 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This story is based solely on the television show Sherlock that airs on BBC1, written by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I borrow their universe to play in and do not claim any ownership or intend to make any money off of this fun hobby of m |
Chapter 9: Of Secrets and Sociopaths
John Watson stands in front of a hospital vending machine, debating what form of junk food will sustain him until the end of his clinic shift. Today has been a particularly slow day, dragging on for a seeming eternity. He checks his phone obsessively, hoping for either a funny text from Mary or an immediate rescue from Sherlock in the form of an urgent “police matter”. Anything to keep him awake, the fatigue from regular late-night feedings increasing with every passing minute.
After getting his Twix bar, he turns back toward the clinic entrance, but is immediately bumped by a woman walking brusquely toward the exit, the chocolate bar cruelly dislodged from his hands. He mumbles an angry “Hey”, as he bends over to pick up his treat. There is something familiar about the form of the woman walking away from him and he finds himself watching her turn and exit into the designated smoking vestibule just outside the custodial entrance. Glancing around, he makes the decision to follow her. When he reaches the door, he pushes it just enough to allow him a clear view without committing himself to an entrance. He sees the woman near the far wall, shakily lighting a cigarette. It is Sio. He is about to quickly close the door and walk away when he sees her turn to face the wall, her shoulders starting to quake. His first instinct is to assume she is laughing and he feels himself grow quickly annoyed. But just before he turns to leave, she moves her head to the side, revealing streams of tears running down her cheek. Soon she is sobbing, rocking her head gently against the wall. It is such a shocking sight, that he second-guesses himself – could she have a sister? He recovers from his paralysis and walks out into the small courtyard.
“Are you alright?” He hears himself say.
She turns around slowly, leaning back against the brick wall. She sinks down until she is sitting with her knees tucked in close to her chest, continuing to sob as she tries and fails to take a drag from the cigarette in her hand. John can’t help but fixate on the lit end of it, which dances precariously close to her wavy mop of hair with every shudder. After a minute, she looks over at him and seems about to speak, only to instead wave her hand at him dismissively.
He looks at her with a fresh sympathy, thinking perhaps it best to leave her to it. He takes a step back towards the door,
“I’ll be in the clinic if you need…anything,” he offers.
As he reaches for the handle, she says, “Please.”
He waits a moment for her to continue, not entirely sure if he had heard correctly.
“Pardon?”
She takes a successful drag from the cigarette and beckons him over with a wave, obviously trying to regain some control. When he gets near, she says in a quivering voice,
“Please don’t tell him.”
“I don’t really know…???” he responds, confused.
“It’s my grandmother. She’s dying. I mean, I know that this happens…I just…She’s alive, but she’s gone.”
It is only then that he notices a piece of paper in her hands. It is a picture, obviously drawn by a child. In it, he can make out the Earth and a spaceship on the moon with a crudely drawn figure waving. Next to the waving figure is another figure, sitting and smiling.
Sio quickly rolls up the paper, pulls a band from her wrist and secures it. The tears are flowing more slowly now, her breathing more steady. She takes a few more labored drags.
John looks at his watch, nervously. “I need to get back. Do you want me to call anyone?”
“Just don’t tell Sherlock, alright? We’ve got a good thing going. He’ll perceive me differently if he knows that I’m the way I am by choice.”
“So your concern is that your boyfriend is going to find out your not a sociopath,” he says unable to hide his mildly sarcastic skepticism.
“Exactly. I should give you more credit, John. You’re certainly less dim than most,” she says with earnest.
He grimaces slightly before responding, “Your secret’s safe with me.”
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