Sight
Title: Sight
Author: aislingdoheanta
Fandom: Sherlock
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock, John
Summary: During Hounds, Sherlock is trapped in the lab instead of John.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2630
Notes: This was written in response to this prompt from sherlockbbc_fic. Suspend your disbelief on how this would happen. It's different from the episode, but only slightly. It all stems from having no sugar from Henry to test.
Warnings: spoilers for Hounds.
Disclaimer: Obviously Not Mine
Sherlock Holmes was frustrated. He was frustrated because every avenue he ventured down turned out to be wrong with this stupid, bloody case. He had originally thought that Henry was just delusional and making up this story. Then he thought that there wasn’t actually a hound.
Now, he had seen the Hound with his own eyes, but he couldn’t figure out how he saw it.
He had seen the Hound that night. It was huge, twice the size of any normal dog and ferocious looking. It had large, glowing red eyes. It looked half-demonic. Sherlock had seen it. He was sure of it.
However, there was no possible way that hound could exist.
Yes, he had told John that after everything was eliminated, all that remained-however improbably-had to be the truth. Normally that was true, but it wasn’t in this case. It couldn’t be. There had to be a logical explanation to this.
He had thought of the sugar that Henry had in his home. Both Sherlock and Henry had taken sugar with their coffee while John hadn’t. It explained why John didn’t see anything and also why Henry was the only one to ever truly see this hound.
He had been planning on trying out an experiment on John, but Henry didn’t have any sugar left. The idiot had used it all this morning in his coffee so Sherlock had been forced to try and find the original source of whatever drug was in the sugar.
A hallucinogenic drug was the only logical conclusion that could be drawn.
This was how Sherlock found himself walking through the abandoned corridors of Baskerville. He had to call Mycroft and negotiate with him to get twenty-four hours alone in the facility. Mycroft had wanted to give them warning but Sherlock was adamant that no one within Baskerville could know that Sherlock was coming in, otherwise they could get rid of the drug and any evidence of said drug.
Sherlock had had every person within the building escorted out while he sent John in and double check the work-he trusted John more than anyone else and needed to make sure that everyone was truly out of the building.
Now he was alone wandering through the building. John had gone up to the top-most floor to look for anything to do with animal research, particularly mutation, or that bit with the glowing rabbit. Sherlock headed down to the large lab they had first toured because he knew what he was looking for.
Sherlock keyed into the lab and looked around, taking in the covered cages and the extreme whiteness that was everywhere. He couldn’t really believe that this was how it normally looked, but he had to go with what he saw, what was right in front of him. So he took a moment to take in the things he could see from his post by the door.
Unknown to Sherlock, Dr. Frankland had hid while they cleared everyone from the building and snuck into the Major’s office to watch the events unfold. He had wanted to test out the effects of the drug in a more humane setting, with a new subject and realized that fate had just handed him such an opportunity. Just as long as Sherlock went into his personal experiment cupboard.
Sherlock took a few steps forward, still cataloging everything he was seeing. The bright overhead lights shut off. He didn’t give them much thought because he could still see perfectly well thanks to the dim lights around the room.
He stood in the middle of the room and glanced to his left. He saw another exit door. There were more containers that were meant to hold some sort of living thing, but they were all empty. Like the everything else in this lab.
It was slightly disconcerting to see how empty this main lab was. It wasn’t that Sherlock was uneasy-he didn’t get uneasy-it was unprofessional, ordinary. He had more experiments lying around the flat than were present in this huge lab.
His eyes landed on a strange cupboard-type room in the corner. There was a strange reddish-orange light appearing to shine from inside it. Unless that was just the window pane. Either way, he decided to go and investigate it.
Keep Out Unless You Want A Cold.
Sherlock shook his head and swiped his card. How ridiculous that a scientific facility of this scale would have a nearly empty lab and such an unprofessional sign. He walked in and immediately went to the other door within this strange cupboard.
This room had a strange yellow glow to it and Sherlock could hear faint hissing and groaning coming from inside it. He pulled the door open, noting that no card was needed to gain entry, and looked around.
On the left there was a strange room with an incubator-type object inside with a glass wall. There was a strange circuit-type board on the wall in front of him over the computer. It was labeled with chemical types and compounds. He glanced on the desk and inside the drawers, but there was nothing of importance there.
He turned to his right and saw a bunch of pipes with pressure gauges on them. He walked toward them, trying to figure out what was in them. This was where the hissing was coming from as there was a hole somewhere along one of the pipes. Sherlock sniffed carefully but there was no scent and he could only assume that it was some sort of cooling value, filled with some sort of cold mist to cool down experiments.
He left that cupboard slightly irritated. He had been so careful to get here before anyone had a chance to get rid of anything, but they must have had warning. Unless they were done with whatever they had been working on.
He turned to go to the door when a large, white light beamed right at him. Sherlock blinked a few times, trying to adjust to this new light, but it was in vain. His eyes burned from the intensity.
Then the strange sound blared and Sherlock winced. He covered his ears, expecting the sound to go away after a few seconds, but it didn’t. If anything, it seemed as though the sound only got louder. Between the harsh light and head-bashing sound, he couldn’t take it.
He made his way toward the door as he groped for his card. The sound was getting so intense he felt like his head was caving in. He knew he was moaning and groaning, but couldn’t worry about that now. He just needed to get out.
“Thank god,” he whispered as he reached the door and swiped his card. It blinked red: Access Denied.
Sherlock glared at the door and swiped again. Access Denied.
“No. No, come on,” he urged as he swiped again to get the same response. He felt his heart racing and tried to calm himself down.
Still, he wasn’t about to give up just yet. He turned to go toward the covered cages when the lights went off. He glanced around, expecting to see someone. But there was no one. He pulled out his torch and made his way toward the cages.
He reached out to pull off the first covering and cursed his hand as it trembled. He told himself it was normal to feel a little out of breath and need to take a few breaths before he pulled of the first cloth. Nothing.
He turned sharply to his left. He thought he had heard something wandering around behind him. There was nothing there, as he had known. There was no one here except for himself and John, and John was off in another part of this facility.
He turned back to the next cage and reached out a hand. His heart rate accelerated and he was trembling slightly. It didn’t make any sense, so he refused to acknowledge it. There was nothing here to make him feel afraid or nervous.
A monkey jumped at him from inside the bars when he pulled off the sheet. He couldn’t tell if he felt more relieved that there was something else alive in this lab or more uneasy that there was only the monkey in here for company.
Sherlock heard something again. He spun, looking around, because he “had” heard it. He knew that he did. He tried to slow his own breathing as he looked around. He couldn’t see anything, but he thought something could definitely be in the lab with him now.
There was one more cage to uncover. Sherlock couldn’t explain why his legs were shaking as he took a few more steps toward the cage. He could hear a rustling around him, but he knew that it wasn’t real because there was nothing else in this lab. He had looked already.
He reached out and pulled down the sheet. The cage was empty, as he had expected, but there were a few bars that had been pried, or pushed, apart. It was enough to make a whole for a fairly large animal to sneak through. He didn’t think about how the Hound he had seen the night before would have been able to fit through it.
He frantically searched the area around him, but couldn’t see anything. He walked-he did not run-to the strange cupboard he had been in earlier. He swiped his card again, but nothing.
“Damn it!” He slammed his fist on the door, angry that the locks were not working, angry that something was obviously going on, and angry with himself for letting it affect him.
Hadn’t he just told John the other night that he divorced himself from feelings so he could remain objective? After all, feelings were a disadvantage. Right now, he was terrified and didn’t have any reason to be. There was nothing in here.
There couldn’t be.
The growling-rustling?-happened again and Sherlock felt a whine almost break through his lips. He reached for his phone, fumbling with it while he tried to phone John. He needed John to come and get him out of the lab since he was trapped. John would also be able to remind him that there was nothing here. He shifted on his feet as his mobile rang.
John didn’t pick up.
Sherlock clutched the phone in his hand as he beamed his torch over everything in the lab. He shook himself and started walking back toward the door. He needed to be close to it for when John came down.
He heard something on the side of the lab and crouched down. He pressed himself against the large table in the room, listening to the rustling happening around him. How could something have gotten in without Sherlock noticing?
He took a moment to collect himself, breathing deeply and tuning out the rustling. He needed to get to the other door, the only one he hadn’t tried yet. It would be on a different power source as the other two in case something like this ever happened. They couldn’t have all their scientists trapped.
He took a deep breath and rushed to the other door. He reached for his card when he stopped short. He heard the growling again and it sounded like it was right behind him.
Sherlock whirled around, torch blazing, as he searched for the source of the growling. He held his breath as the growling seemed to grow louder and nearer. But he still couldn’t see anything.
Sherlock panicked and ran toward the cages. His heart was hammering in his chest and his pulse throbbing painfully in his head. He threw himself into one of the open cages and scrambled to pull down the sheet. The strange childish thought of “if I can’t see it, it can’t see me” popped into his head as he crouched in the corner.
He held his phone like a lifeline as he heard the beast prowling around. The growling seemed to be getting angrier, more vicious. He had to get out of here.
He was breathing so loudly, too loudly, that he covered his mouth with his shaking hand. He drew his knees to his chest and stared wide-eyed toward where the sounds were coming from.
He tried phoning John again. “Please, John. Pick up,” he begged.
“Sherlock?”
“John,” he breathed.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s here. It’s in here with me,” he whispered. “The lab’s on lock-down. I can’t get out. You have to come and get me out. Big lab we saw the first time we were in here.” He could hear John running through the phone.
“Alright. Stay calm.”
“Please, John. You have to hurry. It’s in here.”
“What is, Sherlock?”
“The Hound, John. The Hound!” His voice rose and the growling intensified. Sherlock let out a squeak, perhaps it was a moan, and covered his mouth again.
“I’m coming, Sherlock. Just stay with me, yeah?” A lift dinged. “What are you seeing? What does it look like?”
Sherlock groaned. “I see the hound, John.”
“Sherlock, what are you seeing, exactly?” John was pacing in the lift. “How can you be sure it’s the same hound you saw last night?”
Sherlock took a deep breath and inched forward. “Don’t hang up,” he begged pathetically.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Sherlock glanced out between the bars, eyes skittering back and forth. The hound was rushing around, growling at everything it came across. He was about to pull back when he saw it.
It was just as large and demonic-looking as the last time he had seen it.
“John! I see it, it’s here.” He threw himself back against the bars, trying to get as far away from it as possible.
“I’m almost there, Sherlock. I’m almost there.”
“John,” Sherlock whispered as he saw the Hound advancing on him. He swore he heard laughter in the background. The phone was cutting into his hand. “John.”
“I’m right outside, Sherlock.”
Sherlock heard John shifting around and saw the silhouette of the Hound slink back. He heard the chuckling again and swore he was going insane.
“Sherlock!” John’s form rushed to the cage, throwing it open. He fell down beside his friend and placed a hand on his arm. “Sherlock?”
Sherlock turned his wide, terrified eyes on John. “I saw it, John. It’s here.”
John shook his head. “It’s not, Sherlock. At least, not anymore.” He moved away, but Sherlock reached out and grabbed his arm. Sherlock was trembling and gripping him like a lifeline. “Easy now, Sherlock. It’s alright.”
Sherlock shook his head and pulled himself closer to John. “No. It’s not alright.” He didn’t protest when John helped him out of the cage or when John wrapped an arm around his waist to give him more support.
Sherlock knew what he had seen and knew that this was the second time he had seen the Hound. This time he couldn’t blame it on the hallucinogenic sugar because he hadn’t ingested any. The only explanation was that the Hound did exist.
That or he could no longer trust his own senses.
Sherlock wrapped an arm around John’s shoulders and followed him out of the lab. Sherlock didn’t let go of John until he was entirely calm again. He kept hold of his wrist whenever they began walking again. And whenever they sat, Sherlock made sure that his hand was casually resting on John’s leg or next to his thigh.
Occasionally, John covered Sherlock’s hand with his own or placed his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. Neither man mentioned it because they both were thinking the same thing.
If Sherlock Holmes could no longer trust the evidence of his own eyes, what could they trust?
Author: aislingdoheanta
Fandom: Sherlock
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock, John
Summary: During Hounds, Sherlock is trapped in the lab instead of John.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2630
Notes: This was written in response to this prompt from sherlockbbc_fic. Suspend your disbelief on how this would happen. It's different from the episode, but only slightly. It all stems from having no sugar from Henry to test.
Warnings: spoilers for Hounds.
Disclaimer: Obviously Not Mine
Sherlock Holmes was frustrated. He was frustrated because every avenue he ventured down turned out to be wrong with this stupid, bloody case. He had originally thought that Henry was just delusional and making up this story. Then he thought that there wasn’t actually a hound.
Now, he had seen the Hound with his own eyes, but he couldn’t figure out how he saw it.
He had seen the Hound that night. It was huge, twice the size of any normal dog and ferocious looking. It had large, glowing red eyes. It looked half-demonic. Sherlock had seen it. He was sure of it.
However, there was no possible way that hound could exist.
Yes, he had told John that after everything was eliminated, all that remained-however improbably-had to be the truth. Normally that was true, but it wasn’t in this case. It couldn’t be. There had to be a logical explanation to this.
He had thought of the sugar that Henry had in his home. Both Sherlock and Henry had taken sugar with their coffee while John hadn’t. It explained why John didn’t see anything and also why Henry was the only one to ever truly see this hound.
He had been planning on trying out an experiment on John, but Henry didn’t have any sugar left. The idiot had used it all this morning in his coffee so Sherlock had been forced to try and find the original source of whatever drug was in the sugar.
A hallucinogenic drug was the only logical conclusion that could be drawn.
This was how Sherlock found himself walking through the abandoned corridors of Baskerville. He had to call Mycroft and negotiate with him to get twenty-four hours alone in the facility. Mycroft had wanted to give them warning but Sherlock was adamant that no one within Baskerville could know that Sherlock was coming in, otherwise they could get rid of the drug and any evidence of said drug.
Sherlock had had every person within the building escorted out while he sent John in and double check the work-he trusted John more than anyone else and needed to make sure that everyone was truly out of the building.
Now he was alone wandering through the building. John had gone up to the top-most floor to look for anything to do with animal research, particularly mutation, or that bit with the glowing rabbit. Sherlock headed down to the large lab they had first toured because he knew what he was looking for.
Sherlock keyed into the lab and looked around, taking in the covered cages and the extreme whiteness that was everywhere. He couldn’t really believe that this was how it normally looked, but he had to go with what he saw, what was right in front of him. So he took a moment to take in the things he could see from his post by the door.
Unknown to Sherlock, Dr. Frankland had hid while they cleared everyone from the building and snuck into the Major’s office to watch the events unfold. He had wanted to test out the effects of the drug in a more humane setting, with a new subject and realized that fate had just handed him such an opportunity. Just as long as Sherlock went into his personal experiment cupboard.
Sherlock took a few steps forward, still cataloging everything he was seeing. The bright overhead lights shut off. He didn’t give them much thought because he could still see perfectly well thanks to the dim lights around the room.
He stood in the middle of the room and glanced to his left. He saw another exit door. There were more containers that were meant to hold some sort of living thing, but they were all empty. Like the everything else in this lab.
It was slightly disconcerting to see how empty this main lab was. It wasn’t that Sherlock was uneasy-he didn’t get uneasy-it was unprofessional, ordinary. He had more experiments lying around the flat than were present in this huge lab.
His eyes landed on a strange cupboard-type room in the corner. There was a strange reddish-orange light appearing to shine from inside it. Unless that was just the window pane. Either way, he decided to go and investigate it.
Keep Out Unless You Want A Cold.
Sherlock shook his head and swiped his card. How ridiculous that a scientific facility of this scale would have a nearly empty lab and such an unprofessional sign. He walked in and immediately went to the other door within this strange cupboard.
This room had a strange yellow glow to it and Sherlock could hear faint hissing and groaning coming from inside it. He pulled the door open, noting that no card was needed to gain entry, and looked around.
On the left there was a strange room with an incubator-type object inside with a glass wall. There was a strange circuit-type board on the wall in front of him over the computer. It was labeled with chemical types and compounds. He glanced on the desk and inside the drawers, but there was nothing of importance there.
He turned to his right and saw a bunch of pipes with pressure gauges on them. He walked toward them, trying to figure out what was in them. This was where the hissing was coming from as there was a hole somewhere along one of the pipes. Sherlock sniffed carefully but there was no scent and he could only assume that it was some sort of cooling value, filled with some sort of cold mist to cool down experiments.
He left that cupboard slightly irritated. He had been so careful to get here before anyone had a chance to get rid of anything, but they must have had warning. Unless they were done with whatever they had been working on.
He turned to go to the door when a large, white light beamed right at him. Sherlock blinked a few times, trying to adjust to this new light, but it was in vain. His eyes burned from the intensity.
Then the strange sound blared and Sherlock winced. He covered his ears, expecting the sound to go away after a few seconds, but it didn’t. If anything, it seemed as though the sound only got louder. Between the harsh light and head-bashing sound, he couldn’t take it.
He made his way toward the door as he groped for his card. The sound was getting so intense he felt like his head was caving in. He knew he was moaning and groaning, but couldn’t worry about that now. He just needed to get out.
“Thank god,” he whispered as he reached the door and swiped his card. It blinked red: Access Denied.
Sherlock glared at the door and swiped again. Access Denied.
“No. No, come on,” he urged as he swiped again to get the same response. He felt his heart racing and tried to calm himself down.
Still, he wasn’t about to give up just yet. He turned to go toward the covered cages when the lights went off. He glanced around, expecting to see someone. But there was no one. He pulled out his torch and made his way toward the cages.
He reached out to pull off the first covering and cursed his hand as it trembled. He told himself it was normal to feel a little out of breath and need to take a few breaths before he pulled of the first cloth. Nothing.
He turned sharply to his left. He thought he had heard something wandering around behind him. There was nothing there, as he had known. There was no one here except for himself and John, and John was off in another part of this facility.
He turned back to the next cage and reached out a hand. His heart rate accelerated and he was trembling slightly. It didn’t make any sense, so he refused to acknowledge it. There was nothing here to make him feel afraid or nervous.
A monkey jumped at him from inside the bars when he pulled off the sheet. He couldn’t tell if he felt more relieved that there was something else alive in this lab or more uneasy that there was only the monkey in here for company.
Sherlock heard something again. He spun, looking around, because he “had” heard it. He knew that he did. He tried to slow his own breathing as he looked around. He couldn’t see anything, but he thought something could definitely be in the lab with him now.
There was one more cage to uncover. Sherlock couldn’t explain why his legs were shaking as he took a few more steps toward the cage. He could hear a rustling around him, but he knew that it wasn’t real because there was nothing else in this lab. He had looked already.
He reached out and pulled down the sheet. The cage was empty, as he had expected, but there were a few bars that had been pried, or pushed, apart. It was enough to make a whole for a fairly large animal to sneak through. He didn’t think about how the Hound he had seen the night before would have been able to fit through it.
He frantically searched the area around him, but couldn’t see anything. He walked-he did not run-to the strange cupboard he had been in earlier. He swiped his card again, but nothing.
“Damn it!” He slammed his fist on the door, angry that the locks were not working, angry that something was obviously going on, and angry with himself for letting it affect him.
Hadn’t he just told John the other night that he divorced himself from feelings so he could remain objective? After all, feelings were a disadvantage. Right now, he was terrified and didn’t have any reason to be. There was nothing in here.
There couldn’t be.
The growling-rustling?-happened again and Sherlock felt a whine almost break through his lips. He reached for his phone, fumbling with it while he tried to phone John. He needed John to come and get him out of the lab since he was trapped. John would also be able to remind him that there was nothing here. He shifted on his feet as his mobile rang.
John didn’t pick up.
Sherlock clutched the phone in his hand as he beamed his torch over everything in the lab. He shook himself and started walking back toward the door. He needed to be close to it for when John came down.
He heard something on the side of the lab and crouched down. He pressed himself against the large table in the room, listening to the rustling happening around him. How could something have gotten in without Sherlock noticing?
He took a moment to collect himself, breathing deeply and tuning out the rustling. He needed to get to the other door, the only one he hadn’t tried yet. It would be on a different power source as the other two in case something like this ever happened. They couldn’t have all their scientists trapped.
He took a deep breath and rushed to the other door. He reached for his card when he stopped short. He heard the growling again and it sounded like it was right behind him.
Sherlock whirled around, torch blazing, as he searched for the source of the growling. He held his breath as the growling seemed to grow louder and nearer. But he still couldn’t see anything.
Sherlock panicked and ran toward the cages. His heart was hammering in his chest and his pulse throbbing painfully in his head. He threw himself into one of the open cages and scrambled to pull down the sheet. The strange childish thought of “if I can’t see it, it can’t see me” popped into his head as he crouched in the corner.
He held his phone like a lifeline as he heard the beast prowling around. The growling seemed to be getting angrier, more vicious. He had to get out of here.
He was breathing so loudly, too loudly, that he covered his mouth with his shaking hand. He drew his knees to his chest and stared wide-eyed toward where the sounds were coming from.
He tried phoning John again. “Please, John. Pick up,” he begged.
“Sherlock?”
“John,” he breathed.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s here. It’s in here with me,” he whispered. “The lab’s on lock-down. I can’t get out. You have to come and get me out. Big lab we saw the first time we were in here.” He could hear John running through the phone.
“Alright. Stay calm.”
“Please, John. You have to hurry. It’s in here.”
“What is, Sherlock?”
“The Hound, John. The Hound!” His voice rose and the growling intensified. Sherlock let out a squeak, perhaps it was a moan, and covered his mouth again.
“I’m coming, Sherlock. Just stay with me, yeah?” A lift dinged. “What are you seeing? What does it look like?”
Sherlock groaned. “I see the hound, John.”
“Sherlock, what are you seeing, exactly?” John was pacing in the lift. “How can you be sure it’s the same hound you saw last night?”
Sherlock took a deep breath and inched forward. “Don’t hang up,” he begged pathetically.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Sherlock glanced out between the bars, eyes skittering back and forth. The hound was rushing around, growling at everything it came across. He was about to pull back when he saw it.
It was just as large and demonic-looking as the last time he had seen it.
“John! I see it, it’s here.” He threw himself back against the bars, trying to get as far away from it as possible.
“I’m almost there, Sherlock. I’m almost there.”
“John,” Sherlock whispered as he saw the Hound advancing on him. He swore he heard laughter in the background. The phone was cutting into his hand. “John.”
“I’m right outside, Sherlock.”
Sherlock heard John shifting around and saw the silhouette of the Hound slink back. He heard the chuckling again and swore he was going insane.
“Sherlock!” John’s form rushed to the cage, throwing it open. He fell down beside his friend and placed a hand on his arm. “Sherlock?”
Sherlock turned his wide, terrified eyes on John. “I saw it, John. It’s here.”
John shook his head. “It’s not, Sherlock. At least, not anymore.” He moved away, but Sherlock reached out and grabbed his arm. Sherlock was trembling and gripping him like a lifeline. “Easy now, Sherlock. It’s alright.”
Sherlock shook his head and pulled himself closer to John. “No. It’s not alright.” He didn’t protest when John helped him out of the cage or when John wrapped an arm around his waist to give him more support.
Sherlock knew what he had seen and knew that this was the second time he had seen the Hound. This time he couldn’t blame it on the hallucinogenic sugar because he hadn’t ingested any. The only explanation was that the Hound did exist.
That or he could no longer trust his own senses.
Sherlock wrapped an arm around John’s shoulders and followed him out of the lab. Sherlock didn’t let go of John until he was entirely calm again. He kept hold of his wrist whenever they began walking again. And whenever they sat, Sherlock made sure that his hand was casually resting on John’s leg or next to his thigh.
Occasionally, John covered Sherlock’s hand with his own or placed his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. Neither man mentioned it because they both were thinking the same thing.
If Sherlock Holmes could no longer trust the evidence of his own eyes, what could they trust?