A little lost, a little confused

[owingnobody]

Who: Nobody Owens
What:  Making up for some seriously lost time 
Where: Teaspoon, to start
When: Now. December 21, 2011, 14:20
Why: Because he suddenly asked me if he'd been replaced.

Comments

[observededuce]

The toe was coming along nicely. Sherlock had been working on it since noon, running tests, making adjustments.

The door slammed open, which was unusual, and Bod came in making a fuss about something or other.

"We're out of salt," he said.

[owingnobody]

Bod heard a voice in the kitchen, and headed towards it with long strides. But when he reached the doorway, he stopped and stared at the dark-haired figure bent over the counter. Who was... but even as he thought it, the name came to mind. "Sherlock," he said. "Sherlock, have you seen-" He paused. "Out of salt?" he said.

[observededuce]

It wasn't that Sherlock didn't notice Bod's distress. It was only that it wasn't relevant at the moment.

"Yes, can you get some more?" he asked without looking up from his delicate work with the toenail.

[owingnobody]

"Can I..." Bod repeated, faintly. "...Didn't we just buy salt?"

He remembered doing so. Or at least, he thought he did. Rubbing his forehead with his fingers, he said, "Was I here yesterday, Sherlock? Or... maybe you didn't notice. What about last week? Recently?"

[observededuce]

Sherlock looked up at this. "I don't know, but we're out now, and I'm going to need more in..." he glanced at his mobile. "...thirty three minutes."

He resumed his inspection of Bod. "Why are you confused?" he asked.

[owingnobody]

"Thirty-three minutes. Right." Bod continued to frown at Sherlock-- no, in his general direction. "I... don't remember. Or, rather, I do, it's just-- it feels like I've forgotten everything. I had this dream, and in the dream, they took away all of my memories of... well, here, I suppose. And when I woke up, I didn't know where I was, or how I'd gotten there... but as I looked around, figured out I was in the library... and that's pretty obvious, because a library's a library, no matter where you go. But I thought, "I should go home." And I got up, and walked right to the door that opened to the park, and followed it until I came here. Only I didn't recognize the house." He shook his head. "It's been a very strange day

[observededuce]

He scrutinised the canister. Same brand, same style. Non-iodized. Back to the toe. "You only remember your memories when you remember them?"

[owingnobody]

"...Yeah." He had the grace to look sheepish. "When you put it like that, it doesn't sound so bad." With a sigh, he leaned back against the counter. "I wish I knew how long it's been like this, that's all. I can't remember yesterday, or how I wound up in the library..." Or when's the last time I saw Neil. That was the bit that was the most bothersome. "...I can't remember his face."

[observededuce]

He peeled a sample from the skin beneath the nail and set it on a slide next to the already prepared slide with exposed skin on. "You have photographs, or you could simply try to describe him. A pad of paper and a pencil might also work."

[owingnobody]

...Oh. Oh yes. He was remembering now. Sherlock... "Is that how you remember people? Photographs?" It wasn't a bad idea. Very practical. "I guess it could work. But..." But it lacked the personal touch. He needed, needed to find Neil. Needed to see him.

For the time being, though, a pad and paper sounded like a great idea. Opening the drawer by the phone, he pulled out a notepad and started to write down what he knew.

[observededuce]

"No, I don't forget faces."

[owingnobody]

Bod rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't," he said, absently. Then, he paused, and lifted his head to look at Sherlock again. "So think about it. If you did forget, even a little bit, wouldn't it concern you at all?"

[observededuce]

The dropper with the mounting fluid stopped, midair. There was a marked, fixed silence. "Without intending to?" Sherlock asked in a voice that was not quite choked but could be a bit occluded.

[owingnobody]

"Are you implying that I intended to wake up this morning and not remember anything?" Bod asked, his voice sounding just a little bit frosty. "Without intending to, yes."

[observededuce]

Sherlock's fingers spasmed, so slightly it couldn't be seen by the naked eye, but strongly enough to release the droplet of fluid that had been forming on the tip of the pipette. The motion released him from his stunned stillness.

"It would be inconceivable." He insert the dropper with deliberate care into its bottle. "Wait, don't be like that. I mean I wouldn't be me. I wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes."

[owingnobody]

"You'd just... stop being you?" Bod tapped the end of his pen against the pad of paper. "But fundamentally you'd be the same person. You'd react the same way in certain situations. You'd go about solving puzzles or problems the same way. You'd organize your things, your day, your life... you wouldn't change. How do you think I knew where I hid the salt? I knew how I'd reason out where to put it." He tilted his head. "You really think you wouldn't be yourself anymore, if you forgot something?"