Convergence 6/7
CONVERGENCE
by Soledad
PART 6 - THE HOUNDS OF BASKERVILLE
Toshiko doesn’t see John after the near-disastrous affair with The Woman for quite some time. It is by her own choice, to tell the truth. She tries to keep out of the way of the flatmates of 221B as far as she can because Sherlock doesn’t have any cases and he’s bored. And a bored Sherlock is hyperactive, rude, arrogant and a real pain in the arse.
A bored Sherlock on nicotine cold turkey is a disaster waiting to happen. Toshiko really wonders how John is able to deal with him. The man must be a saint.
The day Sherlock comes home covered with blood and carrying a harpoon only reinforces her decision to stay away from them.
John later tells her that Sherlock solved a case on that particular morning by harpooning a dead pig. Something about an old sea captain being pinned to the wall of his own cottage, apparently. She doesn’t ask for details. She knows she’s better off not knowing.
When both men leave on the same day for Devon, she’s still not particularly concerned. Their cases often call them to the most unlikely places. However, when John texts her to asks what she can tell him about the Baskerville research facility, she starts panicking.
Unlike most people, she does know a lot about what’s going on in Baskerville. The government think tank - the one she used to work for some ten years before her imprisonment - was involved in quite a few Baskerville projects. She doesn’t really think Sherlock could be in much trouble; the name Holmes and his connection to Mr Holmes will likely protect him, as always. But she’s definitely worried about John.
She doesn’t want to alert Mr Holmes; not yet, not while there’s still a chance that things won’t actually go pear-shaped, but she doesn’t want to sit idly, either. Because things have an alarming tendency to go pear-shaped whenever Sherlock is involved.
So she does the only thing she can think of: she calls Ianto. If anyone, he’ll be able to deal with the situation, without actually involving Mr Holmes.
Ianto thanks her and promises to keep an eye on his wayward uncle. After that, Toshiko doesn’t hear from any of the men involved.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sherlock and John return several days later, in high spirits. Well, at least Sherlock seems to be in high spirits. John is strangely subdued, and it’s more than his usual weariness whenever Sherlock oversteps his boundaries. This time it seems deeper and more permanent.
Yet, unlike other times, he doesn’t come down to 221C to vent his frustration. So Toshiko looks up his blog, to see what’s happened - and she understands.
She understands what it must mean to a man as fiercely loyal as John that his best friend simply experimented on him, without a second thought about his mental and emotional well-being.
Or a first one, for that matter.
She’s not fooled by the light-hearted tone of the blog. She knows John well enough by now to understand how this betrayal must have wounded him.
So she sends a text message. John, come down and let’s talk.
And in the evening John comes indeed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“I’ve never been so scared in my whole life like when trapped in that bloody lab,” he admits. “Not even in Afghanistan, or when I was wrapped in Semtex at that damn pool. I could hear this monster coming from me. And then I saw it... I've been through some terrifying experiences in my life but that was one of the worst. Something that just seemed so unbelievable and so unstoppable... Those eyes...”
He shudders. Toshiko pours him another Scotch without being asked.
“And all that because my best friend drugged me, to see the reaction of a simple mind,” he continues bitterly. “I saw the hound because that's what I'd expected to see. I guess that means the experiment was a success… even if it turned me out of my bloody mind.”
“Was it?” Toshiko asks quietly. “As a doctor, you must have seen the effects of quite a number of drugs. What was different this time?”
“What was different?” John throws back his Scotch and Toshiko pours him another one. “I hadn't just seen the hound. I'd heard it. I'd felt it getting closer. I'd felt the fear inside me...”
“But it wasn’t the coffee Sherlock made you, after all,” Toshiko points out. John nods.
“True. But that isn’t the point. The point is, Sherlock thought it was in the sugar and he poisoned me deliberately. How could he do that to me? While at the same time declaring that I was his only friend…”
“You are,” Toshiko assures him. “But he’s a Holmes. They don’t understand boundaries of any kind. It’s like a genetic defect.”
“I can’t imagine Mycroft doing anything so foolish,” John says.
“No,” Toshiko agrees grimly. “Mr Holmes won’t do anything spontaneously stupid like that. By him, it would be pre-meditated, carefully calculated, and you’d never learn the truth about it. Trust me; you’re better off with Sherlock. At least he’d never willingly harm you.”
“No, he just might kill me one day out of pure distraction,” John mutters angrily and Toshiko nods.
“That’s the risk you’ll have to take if you want to remain on his side.”
John sighs defeatedly. “What else could I do? The idiot needs me; and I need him. I’m just sick and tired of being used without consideration.”
“Believe me; I know the feeling,” Toshiko replies. Then she takes the glass from his unresisting fingers and pulls him to his feet. “Come with me. I think we both can use a little distraction of our own. No strings attached.”
John follows her to the bedroom, and they spend the night together, clinging to each other for the little human warmth comfort sex can give two lonely people. And for that night - and for infrequently occurring future nights - it’s enough.
Epilogue
by Soledad
PART 6 - THE HOUNDS OF BASKERVILLE
Toshiko doesn’t see John after the near-disastrous affair with The Woman for quite some time. It is by her own choice, to tell the truth. She tries to keep out of the way of the flatmates of 221B as far as she can because Sherlock doesn’t have any cases and he’s bored. And a bored Sherlock is hyperactive, rude, arrogant and a real pain in the arse.
A bored Sherlock on nicotine cold turkey is a disaster waiting to happen. Toshiko really wonders how John is able to deal with him. The man must be a saint.
The day Sherlock comes home covered with blood and carrying a harpoon only reinforces her decision to stay away from them.
John later tells her that Sherlock solved a case on that particular morning by harpooning a dead pig. Something about an old sea captain being pinned to the wall of his own cottage, apparently. She doesn’t ask for details. She knows she’s better off not knowing.
When both men leave on the same day for Devon, she’s still not particularly concerned. Their cases often call them to the most unlikely places. However, when John texts her to asks what she can tell him about the Baskerville research facility, she starts panicking.
Unlike most people, she does know a lot about what’s going on in Baskerville. The government think tank - the one she used to work for some ten years before her imprisonment - was involved in quite a few Baskerville projects. She doesn’t really think Sherlock could be in much trouble; the name Holmes and his connection to Mr Holmes will likely protect him, as always. But she’s definitely worried about John.
She doesn’t want to alert Mr Holmes; not yet, not while there’s still a chance that things won’t actually go pear-shaped, but she doesn’t want to sit idly, either. Because things have an alarming tendency to go pear-shaped whenever Sherlock is involved.
So she does the only thing she can think of: she calls Ianto. If anyone, he’ll be able to deal with the situation, without actually involving Mr Holmes.
Ianto thanks her and promises to keep an eye on his wayward uncle. After that, Toshiko doesn’t hear from any of the men involved.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sherlock and John return several days later, in high spirits. Well, at least Sherlock seems to be in high spirits. John is strangely subdued, and it’s more than his usual weariness whenever Sherlock oversteps his boundaries. This time it seems deeper and more permanent.
Yet, unlike other times, he doesn’t come down to 221C to vent his frustration. So Toshiko looks up his blog, to see what’s happened - and she understands.
She understands what it must mean to a man as fiercely loyal as John that his best friend simply experimented on him, without a second thought about his mental and emotional well-being.
Or a first one, for that matter.
She’s not fooled by the light-hearted tone of the blog. She knows John well enough by now to understand how this betrayal must have wounded him.
So she sends a text message. John, come down and let’s talk.
And in the evening John comes indeed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“I’ve never been so scared in my whole life like when trapped in that bloody lab,” he admits. “Not even in Afghanistan, or when I was wrapped in Semtex at that damn pool. I could hear this monster coming from me. And then I saw it... I've been through some terrifying experiences in my life but that was one of the worst. Something that just seemed so unbelievable and so unstoppable... Those eyes...”
He shudders. Toshiko pours him another Scotch without being asked.
“And all that because my best friend drugged me, to see the reaction of a simple mind,” he continues bitterly. “I saw the hound because that's what I'd expected to see. I guess that means the experiment was a success… even if it turned me out of my bloody mind.”
“Was it?” Toshiko asks quietly. “As a doctor, you must have seen the effects of quite a number of drugs. What was different this time?”
“What was different?” John throws back his Scotch and Toshiko pours him another one. “I hadn't just seen the hound. I'd heard it. I'd felt it getting closer. I'd felt the fear inside me...”
“But it wasn’t the coffee Sherlock made you, after all,” Toshiko points out. John nods.
“True. But that isn’t the point. The point is, Sherlock thought it was in the sugar and he poisoned me deliberately. How could he do that to me? While at the same time declaring that I was his only friend…”
“You are,” Toshiko assures him. “But he’s a Holmes. They don’t understand boundaries of any kind. It’s like a genetic defect.”
“I can’t imagine Mycroft doing anything so foolish,” John says.
“No,” Toshiko agrees grimly. “Mr Holmes won’t do anything spontaneously stupid like that. By him, it would be pre-meditated, carefully calculated, and you’d never learn the truth about it. Trust me; you’re better off with Sherlock. At least he’d never willingly harm you.”
“No, he just might kill me one day out of pure distraction,” John mutters angrily and Toshiko nods.
“That’s the risk you’ll have to take if you want to remain on his side.”
John sighs defeatedly. “What else could I do? The idiot needs me; and I need him. I’m just sick and tired of being used without consideration.”
“Believe me; I know the feeling,” Toshiko replies. Then she takes the glass from his unresisting fingers and pulls him to his feet. “Come with me. I think we both can use a little distraction of our own. No strings attached.”
John follows her to the bedroom, and they spend the night together, clinging to each other for the little human warmth comfort sex can give two lonely people. And for that night - and for infrequently occurring future nights - it’s enough.
Epilogue