A Very Spook Halloween, Sam and Gene!

[consulting_det]

"A Very Spook Halloween, Sam and Gene!"
Who: Sherlock, Peter Carlisle, Sam Tyler, Gene Hunt
Notes: About 6-8 months after most of the action in the Addicted Verse

John had gotten married
to that awful Mary person after all, even when he'd poured out his
shrunken, cold little heart to the other man.  Even after they'd become
lovers.  Evidently, it was for

Comments

[consulting_det]

"Yes you did," Sam lied. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa with Gene again, firmly cementing them as being an old, boring couple. He extracted himself from Gene's bear like arm and wandered out to kitchen to get something to drink. Seriously, who passed out at three in the afternoon? "How's yours and the Freak's love life

[consulting_det]

"You lot were going to just leave him there too." And Sherlock as well because he had no intention of getting involved, but while Sherlock had been part of the crew since he was eleven years old, he was still the outsider. He joined late. He lived at Grantchester Academy. He was never there with them except when Peter dragged him along-- That was Sherlock's reasoning at least. It was only because he had gotten use to being alone after his brother shoved him away. Stupid, stupid man. Sherlock still hated him for it.

Peter's fiddling around caught Sherlock's attention after a moment and the man frowned, batting Peter's hand away. "Stop it. Those are human incisors."

[carlislestyle]

"We would never leave Sam behind, he just made us laugh. We let him out, we always did," Peter remarked with a small shrug, Sam didn't need babying and he and Gene did take care of him when they could and would! "Besides, I didn't want to go there anyway, I wanted to go guising but no one else did, did they?"

Peter looked at the teeth in his hand and pulled a face before jerking his hand away. He suddenly felt a bit bad for the poor sod who got their teeth taken out.

"Seems a little... sickening here, doesn't it?"

[consulting_det]

"It's all from one man," Sherlock said smartly. "Heart, portions of the intestines -- quite a lot of that actually so likely sold to each place. We found one eye already. Here are some teeth-- There had been more at ours as well and skin-- Oh, lovely, look at this. A piece of skin here as well. See, the skin follicles? Could be pig, but I'd bet it wasn't. Beautiful."

Only Sherlock would say that!

[carlislestyle]

"Repulsive, Sherlock. Wrong. Evil. Ghastly. Brutal. Harsh," Peter offered, all of these words were just things that Sherlock could use to prevent his excitement of a poor blokes suffering. Peter loved stuff like this as much as the next person but actually caring was a good thing to do or so he believed anyway. He wished Sherlock was better at it.

"Come on Sherlock, try to care. You wouldn't like your skin nicked."

Though he supposed if it had t be nicked, this was a great place for it to end up.

[consulting_det]

Sherlock hummed lightly and moved around Peter, almost like a dancer. He glided. He turned. He touched the man's back and then put on his gloves. "Peter, the suffering is over. The brilliance of the criminal mind to do this is beautiful. Evil can be beautiful. I care enough to find this mind and stop him. Isn't that enough?"

he was asking as a mate, asking because he was confused. He never understood why this happened. No one understood him-- Well, Peter did try. But Sherlock had trouble connecting just the same.

He didn't really care. And that drove off John. "I'm trying to care...more."

[carlislestyle]

Peter offered Sherlock a smile and shrugged his shoulders somewhat. "And you do, I mean look at the track record. When you were 17, you barely gave a damn. Now you sort of care enough to try and get justice. I'm just saying, gotta be a bit a tactful in case someone over hears us."

He didn't want anyone thinking they were stray psychos coming to play with the gore, especially since Sherlock wasn't technically a copper.

"Easy trick I always use, just think what it would be like to have your skin ripped off and then you sort of understand better," Peter offered, he didn't expect miracles but it was worth it.

[consulting_det]

No, no, that was terrible. A terrible idea. Sherlock could see it all in his head, the way his muscles would give and tug at his bones and how a twist would be needed at the least fatty areas of his body to cause the skin to give way.

He had yet to touch anything of importance so he reached towards Peter and traced his eyebrow. "The problem is that I can imagine it. I know exactly what it would be like." And he can't feel it because that was not who he was. He didn't have that part of him.

He was a sociopath. Even if he was trying to be better than that.

[carlislestyle]

"Then imagine what you'd feel if John was found skinned alive."

He didn't use himself as an example, he didn't really need to. It wasn't because he though Sherlock cared for John more, it was just distant enough now not to have a massive impact but a loss that would hurt no matter what. Sherlock could lie all he wanted but he could feel like any other human, he was just a lot more closed off and distant about it.

"Remember when the cat died? You felt sad over that, loss is saddening so I'm sure this blokes family are going to feel it. But personally, I feel more sorry for the man," why wouldn't he? He'd been ripped to bloody piece!

[consulting_det]

Sherlock shook his head. "He'd be dead. And that would be it." John'd left. Sherlock already had his near brush with overdosing on his behalf. He turned away from Peter, silent, eyes down cast, absolutely stoic.

For now. But it had hurt. Those words had hurt. The memory of that cat touched him.

"I can't help the dead save to find their killers." He sucked in a heated breath and slipped away from Peter again to finish his work.

[carlislestyle]

"Same," Peter added on the end as he shoved his hands into his pockets and followed along, a small smile on his face. People could say what they wanted about Sherlock, he did feel and Peter had always wanted that. He only did this to remind Sherlock that he indeed felt, sometimes he was sure Sherlock just happened to forget.

"You can be sad, you know? About things like John. That's normal, normals fine. Its when you start getting sad for no real reason or daft reasons that you have to worry."

He knew Sherlock missed John and Peter knew Sherlock had trouble expressing it. Peter was just here to try and help.

[consulting_det]

"John is not a thing," Sherlock said, snapping, before he caught himself. He had slipped right there. And Peter was so good at seeing him, at bringing out those reactions-- "You're just like my brother."

Another slip. And oddly enough, Sherlock had the same sort of relationship with both. Peter had met him when he still adored Mycroft, when the world began and ended with him. And it had become the same with Peter. John was a bit different.

In certain ways.

Sherlock stiffened. "Shut it. I'm trying to work here."

[carlislestyle]

"I'm not! I'm weirdly thin, I'm sexually active and I never have an umbrella on me," Peter offered with an amused look on his face. He got what Sherlock meant, he could read Sherlock very well but that didn't mean that he'd openly acknowledge. He was still sure that he had so much more to learn from Mycroft.

"If you want to talk about John, you can. You can't want to, you also can. But don't start mentally comparing him to me... I know you probably do it. I would too. But if you keep doing it, you'll end up with more worries than you need."

Smiling, Peter clamped his mouth shut and made a zipping motion. No more chatter it was.

[consulting_det]

No, no more talking. He'd already said enough. The damage was done and Sherlock-- He ached. He ached and he had a tantrum. Throwing down his things, Sherlock turned and backed Peter right back up against the wall.

"Wrong!" he growled through gritted teeth. "Wrong. I compared him to you. Right down to him leaving me for the girl to come back after for the excitement of it."

[carlislestyle]

"I didn't leave you, Sherlock," Peter asserted firmly because no, he was a 17 year old wallowing in self pity and guilt any more. He didn't feel as much blame as Sherlock seemed to think he should. "I went with my family to Scotland, I said I'd commute every holiday, every weekend, every spare moment I could. I said we could work it out and you wouldn't even hear me out."

All Sherlock did was run away and get high, block out the world and ignore Peters attempts. And why should he feel guilty for that?

"I wrote to you, I sent you a birthday gift, I tried to ring you. You turn your back on me, you blocked me out because things got rough. If you couldn't even stick it out the rough times then ... then what sort of friend were you?!" Peter yelled the last part, he didn't know why he did but he found himself getting just as angry as Sherlock was

[consulting_det]

"Oh, not that old pointlessness again!" Yes, shouting was emotional and so Sherlock kept his voice low. Unfortunately, that was also emotional without him even realizing it. Idiot man. "He's not left. No, he keeps coming back. Just like you. Girls, girls, occasional bloke when you were feeling sauced up so I wasn't even unique in that regard. He only bothered, still only bother, to do anything when we're high. But that's not the point. The point is that I'm the bit of fun always waiting and brooding for your return. And when I've finally had enough and demand what I deserve, it's too much!"

Whoops. So much for not shouting.

"You could have stayed with me always. And he could have stayed. And--"

And Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt were suddenly pretending not to watch them.

Sherlock pressed his forehead against Peter's. "I don't know why being seventeen mattered." A bit of honesty right there. And-- "I'm sorry."