Through A different Perspective
Disclaimer: I wish they were mine, sometimes. But not really, I think the authors of these shows does an amazing job.
Fandom: Sanctuary/ BBC Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The first time Sherlock meets the mysterious woman, he's 12.
Author's note: Thanks to dallirious for the beta. She's awesome. This piece is both an idea I had, but also a way for me to explore these characters. I have never written for any of these shows before, so this was fun!
The first time Sherlock meets the mysterious woman, he's 12. He's been looking into why so many dogs have gone missing in the neighbourhood lately. It's just dogs, not cats or, from what he can see, any wild animals. His first idea was that someone was stealing them but no evidence has proven that theory correct. The evidence present at the crime scenes (usually the back yards) are:
some kind of slime (like saliva, but in big chunks),
what could be dog hair (he doesn't have the proper equipment to analyze it),
indications that there might have been a fight; the lawn has obviously been affected and dirt and grass has been pulled up. There are tracks of the dog and what might be another animal.
It is however not a wolf or another dog's tracks; they look like a mix of dog and man and it is obviously from someone/something walking on two legs.
He's told Mycroft about this, but Mycroft ”has more important things to do than play with Sherlock” so he won't give him any answers or listen to him theorize. Sherlock and his magnifier are on their own. It's really nice his magnifier; he got it from Mummy, it used to belong to his grandfather. It is a bit heavy, with a black frame and black handle, and it's a very good one.
Since Mycroft won't help him, he sneaks out one evening and decides to do some surveillance at Mrs Johnsson's house; her dog Timmy is still alive. He doesn't bring the magnifier since he doesn't think he'll need it. Timmy is a golden retriever, and a friend of Sherlock's. Much more than Mrs Grey's poodle that disappeared last week. Sherlock didn't like that one at all.
He climbs a tree, his shoes are a bit too big since he didn't put on any socks and his pyjama pants get dirty from the tree. He wears a black hoodie and a scarf, because he doesn't want to get sick and Mummy says you need a scarf to not get sick.
He finds a good spot on a big branch and starts looking towards the house in front of him, hidden as he is in the outskirts of the forest. And suddenly there is a small... sound. It's like a low whistle, and in the house Sherlock hears a bark and suddenly Timmy comes hurling out from the back door that was ajar (it was a warm summer night). From the forest, to Sherlock's right, a creature runs out. Sherlock tries to control his breathing, his heart is pounding and he clings to the tree branch. The creature is huge, probably as tall as Father but with big muscles and what looks like fur, at least that's what Sherlock can see in the dim light from the windows. It's still making that sound and Timmy seems transfixed but scared, he's whimpering now. The creature gets closer and Sherlock can't stop staring.
Maybe that's why he's taken by surprise by the man and the woman emerging from right beneath him. The man runs towards the beast, yells a ”hey” to catch it's attention and fires from a gun that casts a net, imprisoning the thing. Sherlock's eyes go wide, the creature howls and Timmy runs off.
”Well done,” the woman says,” did the sedatives in the net work?” She approaches the now calm beast.
”Yeah, he should be out in a minute”, the man answers.
”Get him to the truck”, the man, with super human strength lifts the beast up and walks away,”and you young boy, should get back to bed.” She turns and looks directly at Sherlock. He gets up and runs towards the stem, trying to hide.
”Oh, come down.” He obeys.
Standing in front of the woman in his pyjama pants, converse (that Mummy wants to throw out), his favourite hoodie and the dark blue scarf he's stolen (borrowed) from Mycroft, he feels small. She has dark brown hair, shoulder length and curly, wearing boots with low heal and a suit. Sherlock usually feels a lot older than his peers, he sometimes feels smarter than many grown ups. But this woman... she feels very old, very wise.
”Who are you?” He looks up at her from beneath his dark curls.
”I am Helen, Sherlock.”
”You know my name?” He usually doesn't like strangers, and he definitely doesn't like it when they know of him when he doesn't know of them (apart from the things he can tell by what they're wearing and all the little clues left on their bodies, in their manners and on their clothes). This time, however, he doesn't mind.
”Of course. I had to find out after I'd seen you on my... crime scenes. You are a very bright boy.”
”Yes I am,” she smiles, Sherlock doesn't. He knows he's smart. ”But who are you? You're not the police and your friend was American or Canadian.”
”We will probably meet again, Sherlock. I can't let you know yet. In time, but not yet.” She places a hand on his shoulder before she leaves, disappearing into the forest.
---
He is 25 when he sees Helen the next time. Sherlock has had indications, and a feeling that she's been close before, but this is the first time in over a decade that they actually meet. He's been trying to solve, once again, disappearances that he's read about in the papers. He's managed to get access to some police reports, but he doesn't have direct access to all the things he need. He has been able to talk to some of the friends of the disappeared (none of them had relatives still alive, a curious fact), but not all of the friends, and not the ones he feels would have had answers or at least more clues.
Sherlock has managed to find the next victim, and has decided to follow her. He has been following her for nearly two days when suddenly she walks into an old abandoned building, completely off her ordinary way to work. Her name is Victoria; she is 19 years old, blonde with green eyes; just like the other victims. She is also born at the same ward at the same hospital, exactly one month after the last victim. Just like the last victim was born exactly one month before the victim before her, and so on. This Victoria is the fourth, and was born in April.
As she walks in, her blue jacket illuminated by the bleak February sun shining through the dusty windows high on the walls, Sherlock hides behind a pile of junk (3 old lockers, a bag, a pile of floorboards, loads of garbage on the floor). In the middle of the big room, she stops. From a door in the wall opposite Sherlock, to the right, comes Helen. It takes Sherlock not even a split second to recognise her. His eyes widen of surprise, this hadn't felt like a ”weird” case yet (which is usually when he senses the presence of her, of someone else looking into what he's investigating, and then suddenly he can't find more traces or clues). Her dark hair, boots with heals this time, a black skirt and a matching jacket. Over a decade. Helen walks up to the girl, they talk, the girl cries and Helen comforts her. Sherlock is annoyed he can't hear them. It makes no sense that Helen would be responsible for these missing girls. It seems to be the case though, as she then shows the girl out of the door through which Helen entered. When the girl has left, Helen turns around.
”You can come out now, Sherlock.” He steps out of the dark. He wears nice black shoes, black pants, a dark blue shirt, a cape and a scarf of his own now, but he still feels like the small boy in Converse under her gaze.
”You knew I was here,” he states as he approaches her.
”Yes. It wasn't too hard.” She smiles, Sherlock stops in front of her.
”So. Am I ready yet? To know.”
”No.” He lets it sink in.
”Why? You've said it before; I am smart. And I know of you, why can't I know what you do?”
”You are very intelligent when it comes to puzzles and clues, yes. Maybe I should tell you, let you help me keep your brother away.”
”Mycroft knows about you?”
”He climbs high and fast. I think he understands something's going on, but no. Kings, Queens, Presidents and Prime Ministers know of me. Your brother isn't there. Yet.” He arches an eyebrow.
”So tell me.” She seems to think for a moment.
”No. You're still too young. You are still searching for the real you, still doing your dark deeds and experimenting with yourself and those around you, trying to find a place where you fit. Because you don't fit, do you Sherlock? You aren't the dark creature you saw in that garden many years ago, but sometimes you still wonder, don't you? You wonder about your place in this world, in this London?” He doesn't look at her when he whispers:
”Yes.”
”You will find it, one day.” She looks into his eyes. ”And then, you'll be ready.” She turns to leave, but takes his right hand and gives him a piece of paper, neatly folded, before she heads for the door. As Sherlock turns around and walks through the big hall, his shoes echoing against the walls, he opens the note.
”Lestrade”, it says, and a number.
---
They're running through London, Sherlock and John. Hunting the perpetrator, rounding corners, jumping over fences and it's glorious, glorious, glorious! They follow the cloaked man down a dark alley and see him run in through a door. Sherlock makes a bolt for it, hears a car driving up besides him, hear John yell his name but doesn't stop. Before the van comes to a halt, tyres shrieking, Sherlock reaches for the door, the car door opens and a woman yells:
”Don't go in there Sherlock!”
John crashes into Sherlock, Helen runs out of the van and passes him into the building, from the back of the van comes a young man and a dark haired woman and runs right after Helen. Sherlock is on his way after her anyway when a man from the driver's seat yells at him.
”Sherlock, John, get in! She wants to see you afterwards.” John, gun in hand hanging by his side, looks at Sherlock. He's been with him for over a year now and it takes him a split second to see Sherlock is already resigning to the man, even if his hand hasn't left the handle. So John gets into the passenger's seat next to the man. Sherlock gets in next to him seconds later, pretending to go reluctantly but John knows he's intrigued.
”Henry,” the man introduces himself.
”John, but you seem to know us.”
”Yeah,” the man has laughter in his voice, he seems easy going. Henry turns the car around a corner, ”well, I don't, but my boss knows yours.” They come to a stop, but don't leave the car.
”You know her?” John looks at Sherlock, who's looking out the window.
”I've met her before, yes.”
”Who is she?” John asks both men. Henry laughs.
”She'll let you know,” he looks at John. ”Her name's Helen Magnus.”
Helen approaches the car, Kate and Will laughing behind her. They got the ”lizard man” as Will and Henry named him, Declan has him now. She stops, nods at Henry and see the men getting out. Helen sighs. She hopes she's making the right choice.
”Sherlock.” There's warmth in her voice as she takes his hand in greeting. He can't help but to smile back.
”John.” even a wider smile on her face,”such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
”Hi... uhm, yes.” John fidgets before taking her hand (Sherlock used to hate the fidgeting, but now he sees it so rarely, he does cherish the moment).
“Doctor Helen Magnus.” The other three; Henry, the young man and the woman now stands behind them by the van. Helen turns to Sherlock. ”Wondering if you're ready yet?”
”Yes.” Sherlock knows his eyes are glowing, he knows he looks excited. He also knows John looks confused.
”I think you are.” She looks him in the eyes, measuring him. ”You are no longer the innocent boy of twelve; intelligent but unaware of the world of man. You were still in a world of your parents' love, relatively safe from strangers judging you. You are no longer the young man of 25, all too aware of people's thoughts and ideas about you as a person. Sherlock, you are finally becoming what I saw. So very intelligent, so very smart, and finally compassionate,” she winks at John (he still looks confused). ”Oh yes, I'm aware, when I last met you, you were telling yourself you had no feelings, no use for emotions and other people. It was easier that way, wasn't it? But I think you've finally learnt that even if you don't understand other's emotions all the time, you do harbour them yourself. And before you could grasp compassion, Sherlock, or even love for someone else no matter the harm it does to you, I couldn't show you my work. I need you to help me help these creatures, not dissect them”.
A moment, a beat passes.
”Wow.” It's John. Helen gives him a smile, up behind them comes the other two, Henry has gone back to the van apparently. The man shakes John's hand.
”Will,” he moves to great Sherlock. The dark haired woman comes up to John.
”Kate,” she says and flashes him a grin.
”These three,” Helen nods at her companions,”and some other friends, keep me grounded.” She looks at Sherlock. ”Just like John does for you. Keeps us from the dark.” Sherlock nods.
”Hey, Magnus!” Henry yells from the van,”another sighting on the other side of London!” Will and Kate bolt to the car, getting into the driver's and passenger's seats. Helen turns to John and Sherlock.
”Come on,” she starts running towards the car,”we work for, or well I run, the Sanctuary. We take care of, and help, abnormal creatures around the world.” They jump into the back of the van, Sherlock nearly hits his head on the way in, and find their seats. It's like a room in there, with Henry next to a computer.
”I am 158 years old,” Helen says as she fastens a seatbelt,”and I don't age.”
”How's that even possible?” John blurts, but is interrupted by Henry.
”It's another lizard; probably the mate we thought would be here.”
”Alert Declan, tell him we're getting there,” Helen replies. Then she looks at Sherlock and John. ”You boys ready for a great adventure?”
Fandom: Sanctuary/ BBC Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The first time Sherlock meets the mysterious woman, he's 12.
Author's note: Thanks to dallirious for the beta. She's awesome. This piece is both an idea I had, but also a way for me to explore these characters. I have never written for any of these shows before, so this was fun!
The first time Sherlock meets the mysterious woman, he's 12. He's been looking into why so many dogs have gone missing in the neighbourhood lately. It's just dogs, not cats or, from what he can see, any wild animals. His first idea was that someone was stealing them but no evidence has proven that theory correct. The evidence present at the crime scenes (usually the back yards) are:
some kind of slime (like saliva, but in big chunks),
what could be dog hair (he doesn't have the proper equipment to analyze it),
indications that there might have been a fight; the lawn has obviously been affected and dirt and grass has been pulled up. There are tracks of the dog and what might be another animal.
It is however not a wolf or another dog's tracks; they look like a mix of dog and man and it is obviously from someone/something walking on two legs.
He's told Mycroft about this, but Mycroft ”has more important things to do than play with Sherlock” so he won't give him any answers or listen to him theorize. Sherlock and his magnifier are on their own. It's really nice his magnifier; he got it from Mummy, it used to belong to his grandfather. It is a bit heavy, with a black frame and black handle, and it's a very good one.
Since Mycroft won't help him, he sneaks out one evening and decides to do some surveillance at Mrs Johnsson's house; her dog Timmy is still alive. He doesn't bring the magnifier since he doesn't think he'll need it. Timmy is a golden retriever, and a friend of Sherlock's. Much more than Mrs Grey's poodle that disappeared last week. Sherlock didn't like that one at all.
He climbs a tree, his shoes are a bit too big since he didn't put on any socks and his pyjama pants get dirty from the tree. He wears a black hoodie and a scarf, because he doesn't want to get sick and Mummy says you need a scarf to not get sick.
He finds a good spot on a big branch and starts looking towards the house in front of him, hidden as he is in the outskirts of the forest. And suddenly there is a small... sound. It's like a low whistle, and in the house Sherlock hears a bark and suddenly Timmy comes hurling out from the back door that was ajar (it was a warm summer night). From the forest, to Sherlock's right, a creature runs out. Sherlock tries to control his breathing, his heart is pounding and he clings to the tree branch. The creature is huge, probably as tall as Father but with big muscles and what looks like fur, at least that's what Sherlock can see in the dim light from the windows. It's still making that sound and Timmy seems transfixed but scared, he's whimpering now. The creature gets closer and Sherlock can't stop staring.
Maybe that's why he's taken by surprise by the man and the woman emerging from right beneath him. The man runs towards the beast, yells a ”hey” to catch it's attention and fires from a gun that casts a net, imprisoning the thing. Sherlock's eyes go wide, the creature howls and Timmy runs off.
”Well done,” the woman says,” did the sedatives in the net work?” She approaches the now calm beast.
”Yeah, he should be out in a minute”, the man answers.
”Get him to the truck”, the man, with super human strength lifts the beast up and walks away,”and you young boy, should get back to bed.” She turns and looks directly at Sherlock. He gets up and runs towards the stem, trying to hide.
”Oh, come down.” He obeys.
Standing in front of the woman in his pyjama pants, converse (that Mummy wants to throw out), his favourite hoodie and the dark blue scarf he's stolen (borrowed) from Mycroft, he feels small. She has dark brown hair, shoulder length and curly, wearing boots with low heal and a suit. Sherlock usually feels a lot older than his peers, he sometimes feels smarter than many grown ups. But this woman... she feels very old, very wise.
”Who are you?” He looks up at her from beneath his dark curls.
”I am Helen, Sherlock.”
”You know my name?” He usually doesn't like strangers, and he definitely doesn't like it when they know of him when he doesn't know of them (apart from the things he can tell by what they're wearing and all the little clues left on their bodies, in their manners and on their clothes). This time, however, he doesn't mind.
”Of course. I had to find out after I'd seen you on my... crime scenes. You are a very bright boy.”
”Yes I am,” she smiles, Sherlock doesn't. He knows he's smart. ”But who are you? You're not the police and your friend was American or Canadian.”
”We will probably meet again, Sherlock. I can't let you know yet. In time, but not yet.” She places a hand on his shoulder before she leaves, disappearing into the forest.
---
He is 25 when he sees Helen the next time. Sherlock has had indications, and a feeling that she's been close before, but this is the first time in over a decade that they actually meet. He's been trying to solve, once again, disappearances that he's read about in the papers. He's managed to get access to some police reports, but he doesn't have direct access to all the things he need. He has been able to talk to some of the friends of the disappeared (none of them had relatives still alive, a curious fact), but not all of the friends, and not the ones he feels would have had answers or at least more clues.
Sherlock has managed to find the next victim, and has decided to follow her. He has been following her for nearly two days when suddenly she walks into an old abandoned building, completely off her ordinary way to work. Her name is Victoria; she is 19 years old, blonde with green eyes; just like the other victims. She is also born at the same ward at the same hospital, exactly one month after the last victim. Just like the last victim was born exactly one month before the victim before her, and so on. This Victoria is the fourth, and was born in April.
As she walks in, her blue jacket illuminated by the bleak February sun shining through the dusty windows high on the walls, Sherlock hides behind a pile of junk (3 old lockers, a bag, a pile of floorboards, loads of garbage on the floor). In the middle of the big room, she stops. From a door in the wall opposite Sherlock, to the right, comes Helen. It takes Sherlock not even a split second to recognise her. His eyes widen of surprise, this hadn't felt like a ”weird” case yet (which is usually when he senses the presence of her, of someone else looking into what he's investigating, and then suddenly he can't find more traces or clues). Her dark hair, boots with heals this time, a black skirt and a matching jacket. Over a decade. Helen walks up to the girl, they talk, the girl cries and Helen comforts her. Sherlock is annoyed he can't hear them. It makes no sense that Helen would be responsible for these missing girls. It seems to be the case though, as she then shows the girl out of the door through which Helen entered. When the girl has left, Helen turns around.
”You can come out now, Sherlock.” He steps out of the dark. He wears nice black shoes, black pants, a dark blue shirt, a cape and a scarf of his own now, but he still feels like the small boy in Converse under her gaze.
”You knew I was here,” he states as he approaches her.
”Yes. It wasn't too hard.” She smiles, Sherlock stops in front of her.
”So. Am I ready yet? To know.”
”No.” He lets it sink in.
”Why? You've said it before; I am smart. And I know of you, why can't I know what you do?”
”You are very intelligent when it comes to puzzles and clues, yes. Maybe I should tell you, let you help me keep your brother away.”
”Mycroft knows about you?”
”He climbs high and fast. I think he understands something's going on, but no. Kings, Queens, Presidents and Prime Ministers know of me. Your brother isn't there. Yet.” He arches an eyebrow.
”So tell me.” She seems to think for a moment.
”No. You're still too young. You are still searching for the real you, still doing your dark deeds and experimenting with yourself and those around you, trying to find a place where you fit. Because you don't fit, do you Sherlock? You aren't the dark creature you saw in that garden many years ago, but sometimes you still wonder, don't you? You wonder about your place in this world, in this London?” He doesn't look at her when he whispers:
”Yes.”
”You will find it, one day.” She looks into his eyes. ”And then, you'll be ready.” She turns to leave, but takes his right hand and gives him a piece of paper, neatly folded, before she heads for the door. As Sherlock turns around and walks through the big hall, his shoes echoing against the walls, he opens the note.
”Lestrade”, it says, and a number.
---
They're running through London, Sherlock and John. Hunting the perpetrator, rounding corners, jumping over fences and it's glorious, glorious, glorious! They follow the cloaked man down a dark alley and see him run in through a door. Sherlock makes a bolt for it, hears a car driving up besides him, hear John yell his name but doesn't stop. Before the van comes to a halt, tyres shrieking, Sherlock reaches for the door, the car door opens and a woman yells:
”Don't go in there Sherlock!”
John crashes into Sherlock, Helen runs out of the van and passes him into the building, from the back of the van comes a young man and a dark haired woman and runs right after Helen. Sherlock is on his way after her anyway when a man from the driver's seat yells at him.
”Sherlock, John, get in! She wants to see you afterwards.” John, gun in hand hanging by his side, looks at Sherlock. He's been with him for over a year now and it takes him a split second to see Sherlock is already resigning to the man, even if his hand hasn't left the handle. So John gets into the passenger's seat next to the man. Sherlock gets in next to him seconds later, pretending to go reluctantly but John knows he's intrigued.
”Henry,” the man introduces himself.
”John, but you seem to know us.”
”Yeah,” the man has laughter in his voice, he seems easy going. Henry turns the car around a corner, ”well, I don't, but my boss knows yours.” They come to a stop, but don't leave the car.
”You know her?” John looks at Sherlock, who's looking out the window.
”I've met her before, yes.”
”Who is she?” John asks both men. Henry laughs.
”She'll let you know,” he looks at John. ”Her name's Helen Magnus.”
Helen approaches the car, Kate and Will laughing behind her. They got the ”lizard man” as Will and Henry named him, Declan has him now. She stops, nods at Henry and see the men getting out. Helen sighs. She hopes she's making the right choice.
”Sherlock.” There's warmth in her voice as she takes his hand in greeting. He can't help but to smile back.
”John.” even a wider smile on her face,”such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
”Hi... uhm, yes.” John fidgets before taking her hand (Sherlock used to hate the fidgeting, but now he sees it so rarely, he does cherish the moment).
“Doctor Helen Magnus.” The other three; Henry, the young man and the woman now stands behind them by the van. Helen turns to Sherlock. ”Wondering if you're ready yet?”
”Yes.” Sherlock knows his eyes are glowing, he knows he looks excited. He also knows John looks confused.
”I think you are.” She looks him in the eyes, measuring him. ”You are no longer the innocent boy of twelve; intelligent but unaware of the world of man. You were still in a world of your parents' love, relatively safe from strangers judging you. You are no longer the young man of 25, all too aware of people's thoughts and ideas about you as a person. Sherlock, you are finally becoming what I saw. So very intelligent, so very smart, and finally compassionate,” she winks at John (he still looks confused). ”Oh yes, I'm aware, when I last met you, you were telling yourself you had no feelings, no use for emotions and other people. It was easier that way, wasn't it? But I think you've finally learnt that even if you don't understand other's emotions all the time, you do harbour them yourself. And before you could grasp compassion, Sherlock, or even love for someone else no matter the harm it does to you, I couldn't show you my work. I need you to help me help these creatures, not dissect them”.
A moment, a beat passes.
”Wow.” It's John. Helen gives him a smile, up behind them comes the other two, Henry has gone back to the van apparently. The man shakes John's hand.
”Will,” he moves to great Sherlock. The dark haired woman comes up to John.
”Kate,” she says and flashes him a grin.
”These three,” Helen nods at her companions,”and some other friends, keep me grounded.” She looks at Sherlock. ”Just like John does for you. Keeps us from the dark.” Sherlock nods.
”Hey, Magnus!” Henry yells from the van,”another sighting on the other side of London!” Will and Kate bolt to the car, getting into the driver's and passenger's seats. Helen turns to John and Sherlock.
”Come on,” she starts running towards the car,”we work for, or well I run, the Sanctuary. We take care of, and help, abnormal creatures around the world.” They jump into the back of the van, Sherlock nearly hits his head on the way in, and find their seats. It's like a room in there, with Henry next to a computer.
”I am 158 years old,” Helen says as she fastens a seatbelt,”and I don't age.”
”How's that even possible?” John blurts, but is interrupted by Henry.
”It's another lizard; probably the mate we thought would be here.”
”Alert Declan, tell him we're getting there,” Helen replies. Then she looks at Sherlock and John. ”You boys ready for a great adventure?”