Headaches
Kelok gets nothing but headaches for his troubles in this story--from his partner and from the mission.
Disclaimer: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia, the original Assassins. Sherlock Holmes was created by the esteemed Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The fic When gods wish to punish us belongs to Firenze.Sun. The text below is a review in narrative form and also contains elements of parody/satire. Any lack of humor in this mission is entirely my own fault.
Beta: Sedri. Thank you for doing what you could with this one.
Headaches
Kelok and Unger stepped through the portal and back into their Response Center. Unger held Homles, the mini-Hound of the Baskervilles, and Kelok carefully held his backpack to avoid jostling the button creatures contained in one of the pockets. He was afraid to shake them up too much, as they might decide to eat through the material to gain their freedom.
"We have to find somewhere to keep these things that they won’t be able to get out of. I don't think that the Flowers that Be will appreciate us letting random creatures loose in the halls of HQ," Kelok said.
Unger was too busy introducing Homles to Khazad Dym the mini-Balrog to pay attention. Kelok appreciated the mini-Balrog best from across the room, so he stepped over to his bunk and carefully placed his backpack on it. He looked at the wall Unger had been writing on before they had been assigned this mission. He hadn't finished writing his name. He picked up the chalk and finished spelling out D-A-V-I-D K-E-L-O-K.
Unger leaned on Homles and had one arm draped over Homles’ back. He was murmuring to the glowing monster. Khazad Dym held a ball that dripped with glowing mini-Hound drool. He offered it back to Homles, who began to chew on it, noisily. The small monsters seemed to be getting along well. Kelok chuckled; all three small monsters. With the uncanny sense of timing that only happens when one lives under the Laws of Narrative Comedy, Unger chose that moment to pay attention to Kelok.
"What's so funny?" Unger asked sharply
"Nothing."
"You were laughing," Unger said.
Kelok was confused by the seriousness in Unger’s tone. The half-elf had never been easily angered before. "If I was, how could have heard me over all that racket?" he asked, somewhat defensively.
Homles had started yipping and whining, trying to convince Khazad Dym to play, since Unger had stopped leaning on him. The mini-Balrog was ignoring the glowing puppy as though actually throwing the ball was beneath his dignity.
Unger took his axe, shield, and supply bundle off and shoved them all underneath the bunk beds. "I have good hearing. What were you laughing at?" he persisted.
Kelok wasn’t sure why he had reacted defensively. This was such a small thing. He’d explain, then Unger would go back to playing with the minis, and he’d write the report. Simple. "Adding you in made three monsters playing over there. It was just a small thing," he said.
"That's it?" Unger asked. Kelok couldn’t interpret the expression Unger gave him.
"I am sorry for offending you," Kelok said. He decided that Unger’s expression was still in the angry range. Unsure of what else he should say, he shrugged and said, "I have to write up the mission report now." He retreated to the desk and console.
"I'm going to take the minis for a walk. I’ll see if I can get a container for the buttons," Unger said after a few moments.
"Are you okay?" Kelok called as Unger headed out the door.
"I just need a bit of a break. I’ll be fine by the time I get back," Unger said as the door closed.
Kelok sighed. Even after he’d had the behavior patterns of humans imprinted on him by his homefic, and Unger’s reactions were typically human-like, there was still a lot that he didn’t understand.
*O*O*O*O*
A few hours later, Kelok hit “send” on his report and stretched. Unger had not made it back yet. He wasn’t concerned, yet, about Unger’s continued absence; HQ was not designed for ease of navigation. In reviewing his notes to write up the mission, he had realized that Unger had been quite upset over what the fic had done to Watson’s character. He had even demanded that Kelok add charges to the list. Unger hadn’t been this upset over Watson becoming a soulless serial killer, but then, Holmes’ actions in this fic - with little apparent emotion and a handy drug to blame - hadn’t been nearly as powerful a trigger for Kelok himself as the mission where Holmes had been a fully cognizant participant consumed by passion. Perhaps the portrayal of Watson as a weakling had been the trigger for Unger.
He’d try to get his partner to talk about it when he got back to the RC. For now, he decided to take a nap - his need for regular sleep cycles was another curse of his homefic; normally a Wraith did not sleep in the same way humans did. While it was true that they often slept for five hundred years in the hibernation chambers, when they were awake, they were awake.
His backpack was still sitting on his bed. He heard tiny whistles and snorts coming from the pocket that held the button creatures. He put his ear closer and listened for a bit longer. They seemed to be sleeping. He moved the bag as slowly and steadily as possible and deposited it on the night stand. He suddenly felt very tired, and he lay back on the bed gratefully.
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]
Kelok sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the top bunk. Rubbing his head absently, he walked over to check out the assignment. It looked like he was going to have to haul Watson into Medical again, and the abusage of English was enough to give him a headache just looking at it. It was worse than listening to Unger practice speaking English with the Universal Translator turned off. He frowned and glanced around the room, as if Unger could have entered in the last few seconds without him noticing.
It looked like he was going to have to do this mission solo. He put on his long black leather coat and stuffed some supplies from his backpack into the pockets. He didn’t want to risk losing the button creatures in another fic. He decided to avoid attracting attention with his natural Wraith appearance, and set the disguise generator for a generic Scotland Yard Constable. He opened the portal and stepped through.
The grey world he stepped into on the other side of the portal made his head spin. He tried to get a visual bearing of where he was to orient himself, but there was nothing to see. A character was talking, but the character was only identified as "he" even in the first sentence. Kelok tried to take a step to find something solid, but fell to his knees, dizzy. Finally, the character was identified as Holmes, and the spinning slowed somewhat, but the area remained visually generic.
Time began fluctuating, pulling him back and forth. He let himself fall completely to the ground and covered his head with his arms, trying to block it out. Finally, he heard Holmes ask Watson if he had his revolver. Watson replied that he did, and an actual scene formed around all of them. They were in a hallway.
Kelok saw an unknown man walking down the hallway with Holmes and Watson following him. Holmes stepped on a creaky board. The man turned and fired his weapon. Watson somehow managed to get between the bullet and Holmes. They fell in a heap. Kelok had finally managed to get back to his feet.
More shoots were heard, also what seemed to be Lestrade's voice. But none of it mattered to Sherlock Holmes, all he cared about in that moment had name and last name and it was on top of him.
Lestrade and the other Yarders rushed into the hall, and the unknown gunman was completely forgotten. In fact, Kelok saw him slowly fade out of existence. Holmes turned Watson over onto his back, assuring the doctor that everything would be fine. The doctor assured Holmes that he was dying, even though his voice was still perfectly clear and strong. The Scotland Yarders did nothing.
The truth was too big to continue denying it and it ended reaching and crushing Holmes.
' That bullet was meant for me.' he cried burying his head between his friend's hands as if he looked for absolution.
Kelok's headache was getting worse every second he listened to this. They traded some more words. Holmes cried over Watson, who held his hand, then:
'Listen to me, I…' started to say Watson but even in his deathbed the shame was too much. Even though at this point the words were out of place, because those eyes expressed all those thing that didn't have a definition. With a sharp pain in the heart, Holmes understood it. His Watson loved him with the same madness and passion than him.
Then the kissing started. Kelok kept a careful watch on himself, employing the relaxation techniques Dr. Freedenberg had taught him. He didn’t have Unger here to help him snap out of it if he got lost in the memories of his homefic. He decided that he really was getting better at detaching himself from Holmes. Perhaps it was because this was the second time second time today that he had seen Holmes kissing Watson, or maybe it was that their kissing wasn’t brimming over with passion, or maybe just the generally terrible quality of the writing, but something was shielding him from the full effect.
He checked his internal time sense. Watson had been shot in the upper torso, and according to the words Watson had blood in his mouth, which meant that his lungs were damaged, since the injury was too high to have injured his stomach. , yet he had been chatting and now kissing for well over a minute. Kelok wrote the charges down; he couldn't read them off a list while performing exorcism, but he still noted the medical improbability of the situation for his mission report.
But Watson felt that he had to do it, at least once before the words died with him.
'I love you.' he said.
Sherlock wanted to answer him but he couldn't. His eyes moistened once more and almost he couldn't breathe without the crying take control over him. Finally, he managed to clear his throat enough to say:
'I love you too.'
But Watson couldn't hear him anymore.
Lestrade shouted down the muttering of Gross Indecency by the other Scotland Yard personnel, and sent the rest of the Yarders away. Kelok put on his sunglasses and followed the group of men out of the hallway. He stepped up and said loudly, "Gentlemen!"
The group turned, surprised to hear an unfamiliar voice behind them. Flash!
"Now, you men did not see Dr. Watson die, nor did you see Sherlock Holmes kiss the good doctor. You all will return to your normal duties now before anyone finds out you've been shirking your duties here."
Kelok stepped back into the hallway and heard Lestrade speaking:
'Holmes, you must let him go.' he said softly.
'No!' shouted this time as if he was a five year child incapable of releasing his favorite toy.
Lestrade sat on his knees next to him.
'Holmes, you must do it. You must let him go. That's what Watson would want.'
Kelok pulled out his bell and book and was about to start the exorcism when the Sue-phantom started rising out of Watson's body on its own. He almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to stop. The loose tendrils of the phantom didn't coalesce into a Sue form as he expected it to; instead, the tendrils entered Lestrade. Lestrade stiffened and was silent for a moment. His eyes glazed over slightly, and then he held Holmes a bit tighter - leaned in just a bit more - before continuing to coax the detective away from Watson's body.
The two men stood and walked down the hallway. "What the glaurung was that?" Kelok muttered to himself. Two men from Scotland Yard's morgue entered the hallway as Lestrade was leading Holmes away. Lestrade gave them some quiet orders and disappeared out the door.
Kelok put his hand on his glasses just to be sure he hadn't taken them off and neuralyzed the two.
"Go back to your normal duties. You were never summoned here, and no one told you that Dr. Watson had been killed." The men nodded slackly and left the hall.
Kelok leaned against a wall and checked the words. He saw that Lestrade had taken Holmes back to Baker Street. He had informed Mrs. Hudson, who now had to be neuralyzed as well.
“Now what? Do I still exorcise you, Watson?” He considered the supposedly dead canon character. “How is it that Medical manages to convince you that you aren’t really dead? Well, come along now, it can’t be good for you to be thinking you’re dead.”
Kelok opened the portal. He pulled Watson's body over his shoulder and stepped through to the entryway of 221B Baker Street.
"Excuse me, Ma'am?" Kelok said.
Mrs. Hudson stepped out, eyes red and puffy from crying. Kelok flashed the neuralyzer. "You haven't seen either of your tenants all day. They are out. No one has come calling to the door all day. You can go back to your normal activities." She nodded and turned back into the room she had appeared from.
Kelok carried Watson to the door of the sitting room and left him in the hall. He heard Holmes trying to convince Lestrade to leave. It was now or never. He threw the door open, ringing his bell as loudly as possible.
Lestrade reacted quickly, but not quickly enough, only pulling his weapon halfway out of its holster before Kelok was able to get across the room and knock him to the floor with a copy of A Study in Scarlet. Kelok took the weapon from the man before he could recover.
"I cast thee out, spirit of bad slash! In the name of Doyle, I compel thee!" He whacked Lestrade again for good measure and then turned to Holmes, who had not moved much yet.
A blow to the chest pushed Holmes further into his chair as Kelok shouted, "Out, passion and angst! Leave this asexual character. You have no place here!"
Lestrade grabbed his leg, and Kelok turned and beat him about the shoulders until he let go. "Begone, Unrealistically Tolerant Pillock!" The phantom seemed to have been weakened by its transfer from Watson to Lestrade and began streaming from his nose and mouth. Lestrade stopped struggling, so Kelok turned back to Holmes. The detective had sat back up in the chair.
Kelok knocked him down again, still ringing the bell. "I abjure thee, spirit of woobification! I banish thee, bad grammar and poor English!” The spirit had begun streaming out of Holmes now to join the mist hovering over Lestrade. “Avaunt, pointless character death!”
The mist coalesced into a recognizably humanoid form and started the standard whining. “He needed the luck of that one chance to know what it felt like to be loved. I was hel-”
Kelok waved his book and bell through the mist and it faded out. It had been bad enough when he’d heard that earlier. The pounding in his head had increased sharply from the constant repetiton of the nearly incoherent babble.
Lestrade picked himself up, looking a bit dazed and disheveled. He had blood smudges on his hands. Holmes sat up and looked around the room.
“I say, old man, who are you?” he asked.
Kelok took in the liberal amounts of blood on Holmes’ clothes. He’d have to get changed, but Lestrade could probably wash up. He probably should confiscate Holmes’ clothes to dispose of them back in HQ.
“Now then, you’re in a right mess. You better go wash up.” That wasn’t very convincing, Kelok told himself, but Lestrade nodded and headed to the washroom. Holmes was still sitting in the chair with a glazed look in his eyes.
“Mr. Holmes,” Kelok said, “You need to change your clothes. Come on, up with you.” Kelok hauled the detective to his feet. He expected to be knocked on his rear for the familiarity, but Holmes staggered and caught himself on Kelok’s arm.
“I must have hit you harder than I thought,” Kelok said, seating the man back down on the chair.
He heard Lestrade walking back toward the room. He met him at the door with a Flash!
"Inspector Lestrade, you did not see Dr. Watson die today, nor did you see Mr. Sherlock Holmes kiss Dr. Watson. You have spent the day in your office working on paperwork. Step right through here, please, and go back to your normal routine."
Kelok opened a portal to Lestrade's office and Lestrade stepped through. "Okay, now collect Watson and Holmes and get them to Medical.” He realized that he was talking to himself. He missed having Unger to snark with He stepped into the hall and pulled Watson's body over his shoulder again. Blood had smeared on the floor and the wall where the body had been. Kelok mentally added that to his list of things to do before he was done with the mission.
Back in the sitting room, he opened a portal to Medical. He grabbed Holmes by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Holmes twisted free, but wasn't able to maintain his balance and stumbled through the portal. Kelok stepped through after him. He expected to see Dr. Fitzgerald, but that wasn't who greeted him.
Khazad Dym stood near Holmes, looking worried, and Homles the mini-Hound whined at the entrance to the Agent Treatment Room. There was no sign of Unger. Dr. Fitzgerald stepped through the door, looking rather annoyed. A knot of worry for Unger formed in his stomach.
"You again, too? What have you done now?"
" Mission. Dr. Watson is dead from a gunshot wound to the chest and Sherlock Holmes is..." Kelok hesitated.
"Go on," the doctor said as two nurses took Watson's body and carried it through the doors.
"I might have hit him a bit harder than I meant to when I was exorcising him," Kelok said. He felt his face flush with embarrassment.
"So no damage at all from the fic itself?"
"Well, Dr. Watson knocked him to the floor and then landed on him, but he seemed fine until after the exorcism."
Dr. Fitzgerald sighed and walked back toward the treatment room, muttering about agents trying to make him lose what was left of hair.
"Wait, Doc! Where's my partner? Is he hurt?"
"He was! We have wasted our valuable time putting him back together. Just because he likes to play with fire..." the grumbling faded as the door swung shut.
It sounded as though Unger was going to be okay. He let himself relax a tiny bit, before it occurred to him that, between him having injured a canon character and Unger having done whatever it was he had done, he was about to find out if the Flowers' reputation was deserved. His head was still pounding from the fic and lack of sleep. He sat down in a chair and waited, absently scratching Homles' head. He noticed that the mini had a distinctively smoky smell about him.
It seemed to be only a few minutes later when a nurse shook him awake.
"Your canons are ready to go back to their continuum. They are a little on the grumpy side, what with having memories of Watson’s death. If you come back here after you return them, you can visit your partner and take your minis back to your RC."
"Thank you," Kelok said, and smiled at her. He turned to the minis and said, “Stay here, you two, and Khazad Dym; you’re older, make sure that Homles doesn’t get into any trouble.” The heat coming from the little monster rose a few degrees and he looked rather pleased with himself.
Kelok stood and noticed that the nurse was standing by the door as if she was waiting for him. When he walked closer she said, "Dr. Fitzgerald said you portaled in from Baker Street." Kelok nodded. "Is the blood in a canonical location?"
"Yes-" Kelok started to add that he was going to clean it up, but stopped.
"Here, this will help," she said, and handed him a towel.
He looked at it for a moment. It seemed to be a fairly ordinary dark red towel. Still, it would help, he supposed. "Thank you," he said.
"It's a capillary towel, guaranteed to remove all blood. You can have it. If today is anything to go by, you'll be needing it." She walked away before he could say anything else.
He stuffed the towel into one of his coat pockets and stepped into the treatment room. Holmes and Watson were sitting on opposite beds, looking rather awkward.
"Gentlemen, if you would please step this way?" Kelok set the RA to open a portal near the theater.
"What is the meaning of all this?" Watson asked. Kelok noted that he did sound a bit less than happy over the situation. He supposed that remembering one’s own death could do that to a guy.
"If you step right through-" Kelok noted the looks the two men were giving him, and put his sunglasses back on. "This will explain things." Both of them looked at the object he was holding. Flash!
He herded them through the portal. "Gentlemen, Dr. Watson did not die today, he was not shot, and in fact, you weren't even working on a case today. Neither of you have any desires for the other that would fall in the realm of Gross Indecency. You just enjoyed a nice show at the theatre and are on your way home now. Good day."
He walked around a corner and out of their line of sight, then opened a portal back to Medical. Now, to find out what exactly his partner had done, and how much trouble the two of them were in. Just before he stepped through, he smacked his forehead.
“The blood!”
He closed the portal to Medical and re-directed it to the sitting room of Baker Street. He stepped through. The blood was turning dark. Kelok was afraid it would be nearly impossible to get rid of. He scrubbed at a blood spot with the dark red towel. After a few seconds he removed the towel to check his progress and was shocked to find that the blood had vanished completely. This must be one of those “magic” effects that Unger understood, like the quiver that could hold items that were longer than it was. He moved the towel from his sleeve to the next blood spot, and noticed that the blood had vanished from the leather. He smiled. It wasn’t easy to get a new coat in this style; they’d had to trade both of Unger’s Sue scalps, and promise several more, to an agent that worked Stargate Atlantis to replace the one with the blood and holes from when he was stabbed and shot.
He almost had all the stains on the wall and floor cleaned when he heard footsteps. He hadn’t been there long enough for Holmes and Watson to return, so it had to be Mrs. Hudson. He swiped at the mess as quickly as possible, finally getting it all removed. He ducked into the sitting room, barely managing to open the portal and step into Medical before he was caught by Mrs. Hudson.
Now he could find out what had happened to Unger.
Disclaimer: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia, the original Assassins. Sherlock Holmes was created by the esteemed Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The fic When gods wish to punish us belongs to Firenze.Sun. The text below is a review in narrative form and also contains elements of parody/satire. Any lack of humor in this mission is entirely my own fault.
Beta: Sedri. Thank you for doing what you could with this one.
Headaches
Kelok and Unger stepped through the portal and back into their Response Center. Unger held Homles, the mini-Hound of the Baskervilles, and Kelok carefully held his backpack to avoid jostling the button creatures contained in one of the pockets. He was afraid to shake them up too much, as they might decide to eat through the material to gain their freedom.
"We have to find somewhere to keep these things that they won’t be able to get out of. I don't think that the Flowers that Be will appreciate us letting random creatures loose in the halls of HQ," Kelok said.
Unger was too busy introducing Homles to Khazad Dym the mini-Balrog to pay attention. Kelok appreciated the mini-Balrog best from across the room, so he stepped over to his bunk and carefully placed his backpack on it. He looked at the wall Unger had been writing on before they had been assigned this mission. He hadn't finished writing his name. He picked up the chalk and finished spelling out D-A-V-I-D K-E-L-O-K.
Unger leaned on Homles and had one arm draped over Homles’ back. He was murmuring to the glowing monster. Khazad Dym held a ball that dripped with glowing mini-Hound drool. He offered it back to Homles, who began to chew on it, noisily. The small monsters seemed to be getting along well. Kelok chuckled; all three small monsters. With the uncanny sense of timing that only happens when one lives under the Laws of Narrative Comedy, Unger chose that moment to pay attention to Kelok.
"What's so funny?" Unger asked sharply
"Nothing."
"You were laughing," Unger said.
Kelok was confused by the seriousness in Unger’s tone. The half-elf had never been easily angered before. "If I was, how could have heard me over all that racket?" he asked, somewhat defensively.
Homles had started yipping and whining, trying to convince Khazad Dym to play, since Unger had stopped leaning on him. The mini-Balrog was ignoring the glowing puppy as though actually throwing the ball was beneath his dignity.
Unger took his axe, shield, and supply bundle off and shoved them all underneath the bunk beds. "I have good hearing. What were you laughing at?" he persisted.
Kelok wasn’t sure why he had reacted defensively. This was such a small thing. He’d explain, then Unger would go back to playing with the minis, and he’d write the report. Simple. "Adding you in made three monsters playing over there. It was just a small thing," he said.
"That's it?" Unger asked. Kelok couldn’t interpret the expression Unger gave him.
"I am sorry for offending you," Kelok said. He decided that Unger’s expression was still in the angry range. Unsure of what else he should say, he shrugged and said, "I have to write up the mission report now." He retreated to the desk and console.
"I'm going to take the minis for a walk. I’ll see if I can get a container for the buttons," Unger said after a few moments.
"Are you okay?" Kelok called as Unger headed out the door.
"I just need a bit of a break. I’ll be fine by the time I get back," Unger said as the door closed.
Kelok sighed. Even after he’d had the behavior patterns of humans imprinted on him by his homefic, and Unger’s reactions were typically human-like, there was still a lot that he didn’t understand.
*O*O*O*O*
A few hours later, Kelok hit “send” on his report and stretched. Unger had not made it back yet. He wasn’t concerned, yet, about Unger’s continued absence; HQ was not designed for ease of navigation. In reviewing his notes to write up the mission, he had realized that Unger had been quite upset over what the fic had done to Watson’s character. He had even demanded that Kelok add charges to the list. Unger hadn’t been this upset over Watson becoming a soulless serial killer, but then, Holmes’ actions in this fic - with little apparent emotion and a handy drug to blame - hadn’t been nearly as powerful a trigger for Kelok himself as the mission where Holmes had been a fully cognizant participant consumed by passion. Perhaps the portrayal of Watson as a weakling had been the trigger for Unger.
He’d try to get his partner to talk about it when he got back to the RC. For now, he decided to take a nap - his need for regular sleep cycles was another curse of his homefic; normally a Wraith did not sleep in the same way humans did. While it was true that they often slept for five hundred years in the hibernation chambers, when they were awake, they were awake.
His backpack was still sitting on his bed. He heard tiny whistles and snorts coming from the pocket that held the button creatures. He put his ear closer and listened for a bit longer. They seemed to be sleeping. He moved the bag as slowly and steadily as possible and deposited it on the night stand. He suddenly felt very tired, and he lay back on the bed gratefully.
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]
Kelok sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the top bunk. Rubbing his head absently, he walked over to check out the assignment. It looked like he was going to have to haul Watson into Medical again, and the abusage of English was enough to give him a headache just looking at it. It was worse than listening to Unger practice speaking English with the Universal Translator turned off. He frowned and glanced around the room, as if Unger could have entered in the last few seconds without him noticing.
It looked like he was going to have to do this mission solo. He put on his long black leather coat and stuffed some supplies from his backpack into the pockets. He didn’t want to risk losing the button creatures in another fic. He decided to avoid attracting attention with his natural Wraith appearance, and set the disguise generator for a generic Scotland Yard Constable. He opened the portal and stepped through.
The grey world he stepped into on the other side of the portal made his head spin. He tried to get a visual bearing of where he was to orient himself, but there was nothing to see. A character was talking, but the character was only identified as "he" even in the first sentence. Kelok tried to take a step to find something solid, but fell to his knees, dizzy. Finally, the character was identified as Holmes, and the spinning slowed somewhat, but the area remained visually generic.
Time began fluctuating, pulling him back and forth. He let himself fall completely to the ground and covered his head with his arms, trying to block it out. Finally, he heard Holmes ask Watson if he had his revolver. Watson replied that he did, and an actual scene formed around all of them. They were in a hallway.
Kelok saw an unknown man walking down the hallway with Holmes and Watson following him. Holmes stepped on a creaky board. The man turned and fired his weapon. Watson somehow managed to get between the bullet and Holmes. They fell in a heap. Kelok had finally managed to get back to his feet.
More shoots were heard, also what seemed to be Lestrade's voice. But none of it mattered to Sherlock Holmes, all he cared about in that moment had name and last name and it was on top of him.
Lestrade and the other Yarders rushed into the hall, and the unknown gunman was completely forgotten. In fact, Kelok saw him slowly fade out of existence. Holmes turned Watson over onto his back, assuring the doctor that everything would be fine. The doctor assured Holmes that he was dying, even though his voice was still perfectly clear and strong. The Scotland Yarders did nothing.
The truth was too big to continue denying it and it ended reaching and crushing Holmes.
' That bullet was meant for me.' he cried burying his head between his friend's hands as if he looked for absolution.
Kelok's headache was getting worse every second he listened to this. They traded some more words. Holmes cried over Watson, who held his hand, then:
'Listen to me, I…' started to say Watson but even in his deathbed the shame was too much. Even though at this point the words were out of place, because those eyes expressed all those thing that didn't have a definition. With a sharp pain in the heart, Holmes understood it. His Watson loved him with the same madness and passion than him.
Then the kissing started. Kelok kept a careful watch on himself, employing the relaxation techniques Dr. Freedenberg had taught him. He didn’t have Unger here to help him snap out of it if he got lost in the memories of his homefic. He decided that he really was getting better at detaching himself from Holmes. Perhaps it was because this was the second time second time today that he had seen Holmes kissing Watson, or maybe it was that their kissing wasn’t brimming over with passion, or maybe just the generally terrible quality of the writing, but something was shielding him from the full effect.
He checked his internal time sense. Watson had been shot in the upper torso, and according to the words Watson had blood in his mouth, which meant that his lungs were damaged, since the injury was too high to have injured his stomach. , yet he had been chatting and now kissing for well over a minute. Kelok wrote the charges down; he couldn't read them off a list while performing exorcism, but he still noted the medical improbability of the situation for his mission report.
But Watson felt that he had to do it, at least once before the words died with him.
'I love you.' he said.
Sherlock wanted to answer him but he couldn't. His eyes moistened once more and almost he couldn't breathe without the crying take control over him. Finally, he managed to clear his throat enough to say:
'I love you too.'
But Watson couldn't hear him anymore.
Lestrade shouted down the muttering of Gross Indecency by the other Scotland Yard personnel, and sent the rest of the Yarders away. Kelok put on his sunglasses and followed the group of men out of the hallway. He stepped up and said loudly, "Gentlemen!"
The group turned, surprised to hear an unfamiliar voice behind them. Flash!
"Now, you men did not see Dr. Watson die, nor did you see Sherlock Holmes kiss the good doctor. You all will return to your normal duties now before anyone finds out you've been shirking your duties here."
Kelok stepped back into the hallway and heard Lestrade speaking:
'Holmes, you must let him go.' he said softly.
'No!' shouted this time as if he was a five year child incapable of releasing his favorite toy.
Lestrade sat on his knees next to him.
'Holmes, you must do it. You must let him go. That's what Watson would want.'
Kelok pulled out his bell and book and was about to start the exorcism when the Sue-phantom started rising out of Watson's body on its own. He almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to stop. The loose tendrils of the phantom didn't coalesce into a Sue form as he expected it to; instead, the tendrils entered Lestrade. Lestrade stiffened and was silent for a moment. His eyes glazed over slightly, and then he held Holmes a bit tighter - leaned in just a bit more - before continuing to coax the detective away from Watson's body.
The two men stood and walked down the hallway. "What the glaurung was that?" Kelok muttered to himself. Two men from Scotland Yard's morgue entered the hallway as Lestrade was leading Holmes away. Lestrade gave them some quiet orders and disappeared out the door.
Kelok put his hand on his glasses just to be sure he hadn't taken them off and neuralyzed the two.
"Go back to your normal duties. You were never summoned here, and no one told you that Dr. Watson had been killed." The men nodded slackly and left the hall.
Kelok leaned against a wall and checked the words. He saw that Lestrade had taken Holmes back to Baker Street. He had informed Mrs. Hudson, who now had to be neuralyzed as well.
“Now what? Do I still exorcise you, Watson?” He considered the supposedly dead canon character. “How is it that Medical manages to convince you that you aren’t really dead? Well, come along now, it can’t be good for you to be thinking you’re dead.”
Kelok opened the portal. He pulled Watson's body over his shoulder and stepped through to the entryway of 221B Baker Street.
"Excuse me, Ma'am?" Kelok said.
Mrs. Hudson stepped out, eyes red and puffy from crying. Kelok flashed the neuralyzer. "You haven't seen either of your tenants all day. They are out. No one has come calling to the door all day. You can go back to your normal activities." She nodded and turned back into the room she had appeared from.
Kelok carried Watson to the door of the sitting room and left him in the hall. He heard Holmes trying to convince Lestrade to leave. It was now or never. He threw the door open, ringing his bell as loudly as possible.
Lestrade reacted quickly, but not quickly enough, only pulling his weapon halfway out of its holster before Kelok was able to get across the room and knock him to the floor with a copy of A Study in Scarlet. Kelok took the weapon from the man before he could recover.
"I cast thee out, spirit of bad slash! In the name of Doyle, I compel thee!" He whacked Lestrade again for good measure and then turned to Holmes, who had not moved much yet.
A blow to the chest pushed Holmes further into his chair as Kelok shouted, "Out, passion and angst! Leave this asexual character. You have no place here!"
Lestrade grabbed his leg, and Kelok turned and beat him about the shoulders until he let go. "Begone, Unrealistically Tolerant Pillock!" The phantom seemed to have been weakened by its transfer from Watson to Lestrade and began streaming from his nose and mouth. Lestrade stopped struggling, so Kelok turned back to Holmes. The detective had sat back up in the chair.
Kelok knocked him down again, still ringing the bell. "I abjure thee, spirit of woobification! I banish thee, bad grammar and poor English!” The spirit had begun streaming out of Holmes now to join the mist hovering over Lestrade. “Avaunt, pointless character death!”
The mist coalesced into a recognizably humanoid form and started the standard whining. “He needed the luck of that one chance to know what it felt like to be loved. I was hel-”
Kelok waved his book and bell through the mist and it faded out. It had been bad enough when he’d heard that earlier. The pounding in his head had increased sharply from the constant repetiton of the nearly incoherent babble.
Lestrade picked himself up, looking a bit dazed and disheveled. He had blood smudges on his hands. Holmes sat up and looked around the room.
“I say, old man, who are you?” he asked.
Kelok took in the liberal amounts of blood on Holmes’ clothes. He’d have to get changed, but Lestrade could probably wash up. He probably should confiscate Holmes’ clothes to dispose of them back in HQ.
“Now then, you’re in a right mess. You better go wash up.” That wasn’t very convincing, Kelok told himself, but Lestrade nodded and headed to the washroom. Holmes was still sitting in the chair with a glazed look in his eyes.
“Mr. Holmes,” Kelok said, “You need to change your clothes. Come on, up with you.” Kelok hauled the detective to his feet. He expected to be knocked on his rear for the familiarity, but Holmes staggered and caught himself on Kelok’s arm.
“I must have hit you harder than I thought,” Kelok said, seating the man back down on the chair.
He heard Lestrade walking back toward the room. He met him at the door with a Flash!
"Inspector Lestrade, you did not see Dr. Watson die today, nor did you see Mr. Sherlock Holmes kiss Dr. Watson. You have spent the day in your office working on paperwork. Step right through here, please, and go back to your normal routine."
Kelok opened a portal to Lestrade's office and Lestrade stepped through. "Okay, now collect Watson and Holmes and get them to Medical.” He realized that he was talking to himself. He missed having Unger to snark with He stepped into the hall and pulled Watson's body over his shoulder again. Blood had smeared on the floor and the wall where the body had been. Kelok mentally added that to his list of things to do before he was done with the mission.
Back in the sitting room, he opened a portal to Medical. He grabbed Holmes by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Holmes twisted free, but wasn't able to maintain his balance and stumbled through the portal. Kelok stepped through after him. He expected to see Dr. Fitzgerald, but that wasn't who greeted him.
Khazad Dym stood near Holmes, looking worried, and Homles the mini-Hound whined at the entrance to the Agent Treatment Room. There was no sign of Unger. Dr. Fitzgerald stepped through the door, looking rather annoyed. A knot of worry for Unger formed in his stomach.
"You again, too? What have you done now?"
" Mission. Dr. Watson is dead from a gunshot wound to the chest and Sherlock Holmes is..." Kelok hesitated.
"Go on," the doctor said as two nurses took Watson's body and carried it through the doors.
"I might have hit him a bit harder than I meant to when I was exorcising him," Kelok said. He felt his face flush with embarrassment.
"So no damage at all from the fic itself?"
"Well, Dr. Watson knocked him to the floor and then landed on him, but he seemed fine until after the exorcism."
Dr. Fitzgerald sighed and walked back toward the treatment room, muttering about agents trying to make him lose what was left of hair.
"Wait, Doc! Where's my partner? Is he hurt?"
"He was! We have wasted our valuable time putting him back together. Just because he likes to play with fire..." the grumbling faded as the door swung shut.
It sounded as though Unger was going to be okay. He let himself relax a tiny bit, before it occurred to him that, between him having injured a canon character and Unger having done whatever it was he had done, he was about to find out if the Flowers' reputation was deserved. His head was still pounding from the fic and lack of sleep. He sat down in a chair and waited, absently scratching Homles' head. He noticed that the mini had a distinctively smoky smell about him.
It seemed to be only a few minutes later when a nurse shook him awake.
"Your canons are ready to go back to their continuum. They are a little on the grumpy side, what with having memories of Watson’s death. If you come back here after you return them, you can visit your partner and take your minis back to your RC."
"Thank you," Kelok said, and smiled at her. He turned to the minis and said, “Stay here, you two, and Khazad Dym; you’re older, make sure that Homles doesn’t get into any trouble.” The heat coming from the little monster rose a few degrees and he looked rather pleased with himself.
Kelok stood and noticed that the nurse was standing by the door as if she was waiting for him. When he walked closer she said, "Dr. Fitzgerald said you portaled in from Baker Street." Kelok nodded. "Is the blood in a canonical location?"
"Yes-" Kelok started to add that he was going to clean it up, but stopped.
"Here, this will help," she said, and handed him a towel.
He looked at it for a moment. It seemed to be a fairly ordinary dark red towel. Still, it would help, he supposed. "Thank you," he said.
"It's a capillary towel, guaranteed to remove all blood. You can have it. If today is anything to go by, you'll be needing it." She walked away before he could say anything else.
He stuffed the towel into one of his coat pockets and stepped into the treatment room. Holmes and Watson were sitting on opposite beds, looking rather awkward.
"Gentlemen, if you would please step this way?" Kelok set the RA to open a portal near the theater.
"What is the meaning of all this?" Watson asked. Kelok noted that he did sound a bit less than happy over the situation. He supposed that remembering one’s own death could do that to a guy.
"If you step right through-" Kelok noted the looks the two men were giving him, and put his sunglasses back on. "This will explain things." Both of them looked at the object he was holding. Flash!
He herded them through the portal. "Gentlemen, Dr. Watson did not die today, he was not shot, and in fact, you weren't even working on a case today. Neither of you have any desires for the other that would fall in the realm of Gross Indecency. You just enjoyed a nice show at the theatre and are on your way home now. Good day."
He walked around a corner and out of their line of sight, then opened a portal back to Medical. Now, to find out what exactly his partner had done, and how much trouble the two of them were in. Just before he stepped through, he smacked his forehead.
“The blood!”
He closed the portal to Medical and re-directed it to the sitting room of Baker Street. He stepped through. The blood was turning dark. Kelok was afraid it would be nearly impossible to get rid of. He scrubbed at a blood spot with the dark red towel. After a few seconds he removed the towel to check his progress and was shocked to find that the blood had vanished completely. This must be one of those “magic” effects that Unger understood, like the quiver that could hold items that were longer than it was. He moved the towel from his sleeve to the next blood spot, and noticed that the blood had vanished from the leather. He smiled. It wasn’t easy to get a new coat in this style; they’d had to trade both of Unger’s Sue scalps, and promise several more, to an agent that worked Stargate Atlantis to replace the one with the blood and holes from when he was stabbed and shot.
He almost had all the stains on the wall and floor cleaned when he heard footsteps. He hadn’t been there long enough for Holmes and Watson to return, so it had to be Mrs. Hudson. He swiped at the mess as quickly as possible, finally getting it all removed. He ducked into the sitting room, barely managing to open the portal and step into Medical before he was caught by Mrs. Hudson.
Now he could find out what had happened to Unger.