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swissmargTitle: Cracks in the In-Between Places
Author:
swissmarg
Beta readers:
ruth0007, billiethepoet
Rating: PG-13
Relationship: John/Sherlock
Word count: ca. 93,500 when complete, this chapter 4,482 words
Summary: AU set in the universe ofnox_candida's Getting Better. John and Sherlock work together to flush out Mary's killers, and Tristram has to come to terms with what his father's new friend means for him. No series 3 spoilers (or series 1 or 2, for that matter).
See chapter one for the complete header with warnings, acknowledgments, disclaimers, and notes.
Chapter 14 on AO3
Chapter Fourteen
Tristram is awake before Emily again the next morning, but this time it's not terribly early. It's Monday, so they have school - at least Tristram assumes they're going back, as no one's said otherwise - and they'll need to leave in about an hour. He crawls out of bed and finds his school uniform in the semi-darkness. Once he's dressed, he lifts the sheet and shakes Emily's shoulder, telling her he'll meet her downstairs for breakfast. He makes sure his phone is in his pocket and goes down.
His father's already up and dressed, flitting around between the kitchen and the living room with a cup of tea. Tristram says, "Good morning," and gets a grunt and a nod over the rim of the cup in reply. He puts two slices of bread into the toaster and peeks into the living room. Doctor Watson isn't there, but Father's blanket is on the couch, so Doctor Watson probably slept in Father's room. Is probably still in there, in fact, since the bathroom door is open and the bedroom door is closed. That gives Tristram a bit of a queer feeling, which doesn't make sense because Father isn't in there with him, and apparently wasn't last night either. Also, Emily has been sleeping in Tristram's room all weekend, with Tristram, and that's not weird. It's not the same, though, somehow, although Tristram can't say exactly why.
He goes into the bathroom while the toast is cooking, and when he comes out, Emily is there, blinking sleepily but wearing her uniform. "Where's my dad?" she asks Father.
Rather than responding, Father goes down the short hallway and knocks on the bedroom door. "John?"
There is an answering rumble of some sort. Satisfied, Father comes back to the kitchen and puts his tea cup on the sideboard.
The toast has already popped up, so Tristram puts the pieces on a plate, which he hands to Emily, and puts in two more.
"Did he sleep in your room?" she asks Father conversationally, as she reaches absently into the refrigerator for the butter.
Father hums an affirmative response.
"My father slept on the couch," Tristram announces, just so there's no misunderstanding.
Father gives Tristram an odd look, but doesn't say anything.
The bedroom door opens and Doctor Watson emerges, wearing loose sweatpants and a sweatshirt with something written on the front that's obscured by the bundle of clothes he's clutching in front of him. He blinks the same way Emily did just a few minutes ago. "Morning everyone," he says, his voice still rough from sleep.
"Hi Daddy." Emily jumps up to give him a hug. He hugs her back with one hand and runs a hand over her hair, then looks over at Tris and smiles. "Morning, Tris."
"Hi," Tristram says, then busies himself with the next two pieces of toast that pop up.
"You sleep all right on the couch?" Doctor Watson asks Father.
"Didn't end up sleeping," Father says, but he mumbles the words a bit and looks away, which makes Tristram suspicious. But why would he lie about whether he slept or not?
Doctor Watson becomes a little more alert at that too, but apparently for another reason. "Anything new?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.
Father shakes his head and pushes off the counter he was leaning against. "She was still too heavily sedated. If you get ready quickly, we can go to the hospital together after we bring the children to school."
Doctor Watson disappears into the bathroom, and Tristram hears the water turn on. Emily gets out orange juice and butter, and they settle down to breakfast.
It's a bit weird - but fun - to leave the flat with everyone half an hour later. Emily is still telling her father about using the microscope yesterday, and Doctor Watson says he wants to see the notes and illustrations they made.
Just as they get to the bottom of the stairs, Mrs Hudson pops out, still in her dressing gown, and says good morning. She pretends she happens to be checking if the newspaper is there yet, but Tristram can see that her fingers are already smudged with newsprint from licking them to turn the pages.
She doesn't manage much more than an introduction before Father pulls the front door open and says they have to run. They won't actually have to run, of course, but they may have to make quick time if they're walking with Doctor Watson and Emily, neither of whom are anywhere near as fast as Father.
"Oh, watch out, there's a package!" Mrs Hudson warns Father - who's looking back at Doctor Watson and not paying attention to where he's going - just before he steps on it.
Everyone looks down. A white plastic box is standing right outside the door. Tristram recognises it as the type that's used to transport body parts. Father must have asked someone to drop something off for one of his experiments. But Father doesn't pick it up. Instead, he snaps his arm out as if to hold everyone else back, and crouches down, craning his neck so he can look at it from every angle.
"Sherlock?" Doctor Watson's voice has that sharp edge to it. Not the one he used yesterday when he got angry at Father for mentining that other case, the one with Moran. No, this voice is the one he used when he said, 'Three minutes,' on Friday Afternoon. Three minutes until the not-bomb was supposed to go off. Tristram takes a careful step backwards up the stairs.
"What is it?" Emily wants to know.
"Stay back," Doctor Watson says, still sharp. Then he turns to Mrs Hudson. "I'm sorry, would you mind taking them-"
"Of course," she agrees. "Tristram, Emily, why don't you come inside with me." She reaches out and puts a hand on Emily's shoulder. "We can go right on through to the back-"
"No need for that, Mrs Hudson. It's not an explosive," Father says without taking his eye off the box for a second. "In fact..." He sticks his hands into his coat pockets and comes up with a pair of plastic gloves that he quickly wriggles his fingers into. Then he flips open the lid of the box as if it's a treasure chest. Nothing happens, aside from him letting out a long sigh. Tristram knows that sigh. It's the one he makes when he's hit upon a particularly interesting puzzle. Tristram stands on his toes to see what's inside the box.
"Oh my God," says Doctor Watson, who also steps forward to look at the contents. "Are those-"
Mrs Hudson peers into the box, too, then gasps and turns away, her hand against her cheek.
"Cool, is that an eye?" Emily says, before Mrs Hudson pulls her back to the doorway of her flat.
"Say hello to Princess." Father sounds almost proud.
"Are they returning them?" Doctor Watson asks. "Why not bring them to Bart's? Not that it's possible to re-attach an eye. The tooth maybe, it looks like they got the whole root."
Tristram wants very much to see what's in the box now, but his father's head is in the way.
Father looks up at Doctor Watson from where he's hunched down on the floor as if he were mad. "This is the message, John. We're not bringing these to Bart's. Well, maybe to use the lab. Wouldn't it be brilliant if they've put something inside?" He leans down so close to the box his nose is practically touching it.
"Sherlock, no," Doctor Watson says in a voice that allows no contradiction. He bends down to pick up the box, but Father grabs his wrist to stop him.
"This is evidence, John."
"Those belong to Abigail McCarthy, and she might well like to have them back."
"You can't give them back. You said yourself they can't do anything with the eye, and she won't miss one more tooth. She'll probably be glad not to have it, one less to worry about it going bad."
"You did not just say that."
"I did, and I'm not going to apologise. Not if this helps us to get one step closer to- Oh!" Father's eyes light up and his grip tightens on Doctor Watson's arm. "Oh, John! An eye and a tooth! I thought at first it must have something to do with eyeteeth, but then why wouldn't they simply have taken an eyetooth? And that would be ridiculous anyway, no message there. No, it's-"
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," Doctor Watson completes the thought, with Mrs Hudson chiming in for the last phrase as well.
"But what does it mean?" Mrs Hudson asks, looking from one man to the other.
Doctor Watson and Father are staring at each other. It's not one of those long, electric stares they used to give each other at the Watsons' house and that made Tristram uncomfortable without quite knowing why. This stare makes him uncomfortable, too, but he knows why: Doctor Watson and Father are about to have another disagreement.
"Go back upstairs," Doctor Watson says. He's still looking at Father, but Tristram knows he's talking to him and Emily.
"But we're going to be late for school!" Emily complains.
They really are. At this point, they'll have to take a cab to have any hope of getting there on time.
"You're not going to school," her father tells her.
"Wrong," Father says, standing up in one smooth motion.
"You do know what that phrase means, don't you?" Doctor Watson says. "Revenge, Sherlock. Tit for tat, a life for a life."
"Yes, but look how this was done." Father gestures down at the open box, where Tristram can now see the eye, packed in plastic, staring up at the ceiling. Father's done things with eyes - both animal and human - before, so this isn't anything shocking. "Precise. Neat. They took exactly what they needed, no more, no less. They're not going to do anything messy, and they're not going to repeat themselves. No bombs, no kidnappings-"
"Oh dear," Mrs Hudson says, her voice quavering. "All this talk of bombs and kidnapping, Sherlock, I'm not sure it's right."
"Quite right, Mrs Hudson," Father says. He takes out his phone and snaps some pictures of the box from different angles, saying at the same time: "Tristram, come along. I'm taking you to school."
"Sherlock, this is mad-" Doctor Watson protests, but Father keeps talking right over him.
"It's exactly as safe as staying here, with the added benefit of leaving both of us free to follow up on other leads." Father puts away his phone again and picks up the box, tucking it under one arm. "Or, if you must, you can go wipe noses and put on plasters. Tristram? We'll have to get a cab." He inclines his head toward the street.
Tristram looks at Doctor Watson. He's staring at Father, looking grim.
"You can leave Emily with me, Doctor Watson," Mrs Hudson offers. "I'd be happy to watch her if you need to go to work."
"I want to go with Tris," Emily says firmly. "If he's going to school, so am I."
"Yeah, hold on," Doctor Watson says, not taking his eyes off Father. "You have to be sure, Sherlock. This isn't about you being clever. We know what they're capable of."
Father shakes his head and smiles, but he's not smiling at Doctor Watson, exactly, and certainly not to reassure him. He's smiling the way he does when he's engaged, when he comes as close as Tristram knows him to being happy. "Oh, you're wrong, John. It's all about being clever now. This is a new game, with new rules. And yes, I'm sure."
Tristram doesn't understand what his father means about a game, but he said no more bombs or kidnappings, and his father's always right. Always. He hopes Doctor Watson agrees, because he doesn't want to have to choose.
Finally, Doctor Watson nods. "All right." Everyone lets out their breath. He jerks his head toward Emily. "Come on."
Emily darts over to him, and Tristram scrambles to get to the door.
"Is there anything you'd like me to do, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asks.
"No, thank you, Mrs Hudson. It's all under control."
Father is practically buzzing with energy on the way out to the street. His eyes are bright and his hands are flying all over, waving down a cab, plucking at the box, adjusting and re-adjusting his scarf. Doctor Watson, on the other hand, almost seems to have been turned to stone. His mouth is fixed in a thin line and his shoulders are rigid, his hand clamped around Emily's shoulder.
"Can I see the eye again?" Emily asks once they're settled in the cab.
Doctor Watson barks out, "No," before Father can answer. Emily starts at the sharp tone. He turns to her and explains carefully but with a thrumming sort of tension, "Emily, a lady was hurt very badly. She's half blind now. That can't ever be fixed. Sherlock is going to see if he can find any clues that will help us track down the people who did it. He's not taking the eye and the tooth to play with, or do experiments on, or because he's curious like you and Tris were yesterday with the samples you looked under the microscope. Do you understand?"
Emily nods, chastened. Tristram sneaks a look at his father, because he's pretty sure that a big part of the reason he wants to take the eye and the tooth to the lab at the hospital is curiosity. The fact that he might also be able to track down some criminals (or killers, if this is related to the Moran case) is a lesser point. But his father isn't even looking at Doctor Watson. He's looking out the window, his fingers drumming rapidly on the lid of the transport box. He's probably already thinking about what he wants to do once he gets to the lab.
&&&&&&
After school, Doctor Watson is waiting for Tristram and Emily with a cab. Tristram expects they'll all go back to Baker Street, but Doctor Watson apologises and explains that with all the excitement that morning, he forgot Emily has an appointment to see the lady with the Geomag and the ping-pong. Tristram had forgot all about her too. Father said he'd make an appointment for Tristram, but he didn't, and now Tristram will just have to tag along and wait with Doctor Watson in the waiting room, which isn't fair at all. Emily doesn't think so, either, and says she won't go in without him, but Doctor Watson asks her to please not make it any more difficult, and Tristram can tell he's this close to losing his temper. Emily goes, dragging her feet.
Once she's gone, Tristram scowls at the floor for a good five minutes while Doctor Watson goes out to get himself a coffee from the machine down the hall. When he comes back, he wordlessly sets a can of some fizzy drink down next to Tristram and slumps down into the chair beside him, blowing on his coffee. Tristram wouldn't mind drinking the fizzy drink - Father and Mrs Hudson never buy any, so it's a forbidden novelty for him - but he doesn't want to forgive Doctor Watson yet. Although he knows that doesn't make much sense, since it's not Doctor Watson's fault that Emily's inside playing games and he's stuck out here. Still, he doesn't want to give Doctor Watson the satisfaction of him drinking it.
Doctor Watson doesn't mention the drink, though. He just sits there quietly, drinking his coffee. When he's just about done with it (Tristram can tell by the way the sound of him sipping gets a bit more hollow as the cup empties), he starts talking. Tristram, captive audience that he is, can't help but listen.
"When I was first in the army," Doctor Watson begins, and Tristram's interest is immediately, helplessly piqued, because he knows that Doctor Watson used to be in the army, but he's never said a word about it. It's true they played army games yesterday, but Tristram realises only now that those scenarios were probably based on real ones Doctor Watson experienced. He wonders, with a somewhat guilty thrill, whether Doctor Watson has ever killed anyone.
"There was this bloke," Doctor Watson is saying, "one of the other doctors at the base where I was stationed. Captain Gentry. We called him Gents. Sometimes Ladies and Gents." Doctor Watson grins. "Sometimes just Ladies." Tristram is still staring at the floor, but he can hear the smile.
"Gents was a big guy, probably even bigger than your dad." Doctor Watson puts his cup down and folds his hands, which Tristram sees out of the corner of his eye. "But calm," he continues. "He never lost his head. No matter what was going on around him, he kept it together. Mortar rounds going off close enough we can feel the ground shaking, bodies coming in missing half their parts, Gents was as calm as a day at the beach. To me, he was everything a military doctor should be, and I wanted to be just like him. He was competent and efficient, he knew when to ignore protocol if it would save a life, and he didn't seem to be affected by the immensity of the tragedies going on around us.
"But you know what I figured out fairly quickly was, Gents was like that because he didn't care. I mean, yes, he cared about saving patients, but he didn't have any emotional investment. If they died, or were sent home crippled or paralysed or blind, that was just the way things worked out. So while the rest of us would go out and get drunk off our rocks, or pick fights to burn off some of that anger and desperation we'd picked up, Gents would be working another shift to cover our sorry arses when we turned up hung over or with our knuckles too swollen to operate."
Tristram thinks he sees where Doctor Watson is going with this. He's pretty much describing Father's attitude toward the people in his cases, both the victims he's able to help, their families, and those who are beyond help. Father cares about solving the cases, but he doesn't care about the people. He doesn't get sad when someone dies, even if it's a serial killer case and there's a new victim while he's working on it. In fact, he likes those best because they give him the freshest data.
Maybe Doctor Watson has just figured this out, and is trying to explain it to Tristram. Tristram knows it already, though, and it doesn't bother him. He knows it's the biggest reason why some of the police officers his father works with don't like him very much, but Tristram can see Father's point: as long as he gets the results and solves the cases for them, it doesn't matter one way or the other how he feels about it.
Doctor Watson goes on with his story: "I tried to do that," he says. "I tried to block it out and not be affected by the patients' anger, or their fear, or the thought of what kind of future they might have, but I couldn't. I simply couldn't, it always got to me, and I thought, well, I'll never be as good a doctor as Gents. I'll always have this weakness. But do you know what happened then?" Doctor Watson asks.
Of course Tristram doesn't, but this is one of those rhetorical questions he's supposed to wait for the answer for, and Doctor Watson provides it right away.
"I found out I was wrong about Gents," he says. "Everyone was. Because one day, he went through the ward, made sure all his patients were comfortable, topped up with pain medication, what have you, went back to his barracks, and... Well, he tried to kill himself, Tris." Doctor Watson's hands tighten over each other.
Tristram is so startled by that statement that he turns to look at Doctor Watson. Not only is this a twist he didn't see coming, he is deeply disquieted by the suggestion - through the parallel he's drawn in his own mind - that Father might also try to kill himself. Why would he do that? It doesn't make any sense.
"Someone found him in time," Doctor Watson reassures him quickly, "and we were able to save his life, but it turned out he actually did care about all those people he'd treated and not been able to save, or thought he hadn't been able to do enough for. He didn't want to care, but he did. And that hurt him, so much, that he didn't know what to do with all that hurt. Do you..." Doctor Watson shifts a bit in his chair so he's facing Tristram more squarely. "Do you see what I'm trying to say here, Tris?"
Tristram really doesn't. Is Father upset about a case? Does this have anything to do with him and Doctor Watson? Tristram must look as bewildered as he feels, even if he doesn't say anything, because Doctor Watson again answers his own question.
"Okay," he sighs, "what I'm trying to tell you, and obviously failing spectacularly at, is it's okay to have feelings about things. Even bad feelings. Especially bad feelings. It's okay to be angry, or sad, or not even to understand what you're feeling. What's not so good is to pretend they're not there. Because they are, and at some point they're going to come out, maybe in a way that will hurt you, or maybe in a way that will hurt someone else."
Does his father have bad feelings? Has Tristram made him feel bad? He must know - of course he does, he knows everything - that Tristram was unhappy (or scared, or angry, or … or something, he doesn't know) about him and Doctor Watson being together like that, even about them being friends, and that's why they stopped, that's why they aren't like that anymore, that's why they're sleeping in different rooms and not talking easily and laughing like they used to, and his father was sneaking around and sleeping on the floor just so he could be close to Doctor Watson but he ran away as soon as Tristram saw them. An unpleasant, prickly feeling lodges in Tristram's chest.
"I didn't mean to-" Tristram blurts out. "I didn't-" He shakes his head. He clutches at the hard plastic seat of the chair. It's smooth, and warm, and slightly tacky; Tristram wonders if that's from the plastic itself or from his fingers. He could wash one hand and not the other and try touching it ag-
"Hey, Tris, it's okay," Doctor Watson says, his voice gentle and reassuring. He reaches over and puts a hand on Tristram's lower arm. "Whatever it is, it's okay."
It's not, though, it's not, he's been selfish and childish. How would he have felt if his father had disapproved of him being friends with Emily? He doesn't want to think about that because it would have hurt, a lot. And that's how he's made his father feel. The worst part is, he feels a tiny, secret bit of triumph. He knows that's also not okay, no matter what Doctor Watson says. But he doesn't want his father to be sad, and he certainly doesn't want him to hurt himself!
"Is it... Do you want to tell me?" Doctor Watson shifts so he's facing Tristram more directly. His hand is still on Tristram's arm, not moving, not even really holding, just there, not letting Tristram ignore him.
Tristram shakes his head. He really, really doesn't. He's embarrassed, not only because he knows he messed up, but also because talking about it means talking about - or at least acknowledging - Father and Doctor Watson kissing.
"This is um..." Doctor Watson clears his throat. "That's sort of what I'm talking about. Tris?" He squeezes Tristram's arm, just a little. "You're an amazing kid. You're an amazing person, full stop. You've seen things, and done things, and been through things that- Well, lots of grown-ups wouldn't have dealt with it all nearly as well as you have. But sometimes I …" He sucks in a deep breath. "I worry about you, Tristram. Just a little, just... I wonder what's going on in your head. What you're thinking. What you're feeling."
Doctor Watson stops talking then and waits. Tristram didn't think he really needed to say anything, because there wasn't a question, but now it seems like Doctor Watson's waiting for Tristram to speak. To say what he's thinking. What he's feeling. He doesn't know. He's uncomfortable, that's all. He wishes Emily were done and they could go home. He shrugs, hoping that will be enough to appease Doctor Watson. It seems it is, because he starts talking again.
"Okay," he says. "I can understand if you're not sure. There's been a lot going on, and I can imagine some of it's pretty confusing. But Tris, this is really important. I'd really like it if you could talk to someone, sometime, about whatever it is. Or about anything, really. I'm happy to be that person, if you want. I won't tell your dad either, if you don't want me to. Or, you know, sometimes it helps to write your feelings down, or to draw a picture about how you feel. But mostly, I want you to know that you're not alone. Even if you don't feel like talking, or don't know what to say, you've got your dad, and Mrs Hudson, and me and Emily, and all of us will always stick with you. Always. Okay?"
Tristram nods because that's what Doctor Watson wants him to do. So that they can be done with this conversation.
Doctor Watson squeezes Tristram's arm once more and takes it away. That makes Tristram feel even worse, which is stupid because it means he's done talking, which is what Tristram wants. All of a sudden, he has the mortifying urge to crawl into Doctor Watson's lap and curl up there, like Emily does sometimes. He's too big for that, though, and anyway Doctor Watson isn't his father! Not that he would curl up on his father's lap either.
He picks up the fizzy drink and opens it without thinking about it, just to have something to do, something to distract himself. He takes a tentative sip; it's so prickly on his tongue he can hardly taste it, and it makes his nose and eyes water. It's definitely the drink prickling that makes his eyes water.
&&&&&&
Author:
Beta readers:
ruth0007, billiethepoetRating: PG-13
Relationship: John/Sherlock
Word count: ca. 93,500 when complete, this chapter 4,482 words
Summary: AU set in the universe of
nox_candida's Getting Better. John and Sherlock work together to flush out Mary's killers, and Tristram has to come to terms with what his father's new friend means for him. No series 3 spoilers (or series 1 or 2, for that matter).See chapter one for the complete header with warnings, acknowledgments, disclaimers, and notes.
Chapter 14 on AO3
Chapter Fourteen
Tristram is awake before Emily again the next morning, but this time it's not terribly early. It's Monday, so they have school - at least Tristram assumes they're going back, as no one's said otherwise - and they'll need to leave in about an hour. He crawls out of bed and finds his school uniform in the semi-darkness. Once he's dressed, he lifts the sheet and shakes Emily's shoulder, telling her he'll meet her downstairs for breakfast. He makes sure his phone is in his pocket and goes down.
His father's already up and dressed, flitting around between the kitchen and the living room with a cup of tea. Tristram says, "Good morning," and gets a grunt and a nod over the rim of the cup in reply. He puts two slices of bread into the toaster and peeks into the living room. Doctor Watson isn't there, but Father's blanket is on the couch, so Doctor Watson probably slept in Father's room. Is probably still in there, in fact, since the bathroom door is open and the bedroom door is closed. That gives Tristram a bit of a queer feeling, which doesn't make sense because Father isn't in there with him, and apparently wasn't last night either. Also, Emily has been sleeping in Tristram's room all weekend, with Tristram, and that's not weird. It's not the same, though, somehow, although Tristram can't say exactly why.
He goes into the bathroom while the toast is cooking, and when he comes out, Emily is there, blinking sleepily but wearing her uniform. "Where's my dad?" she asks Father.
Rather than responding, Father goes down the short hallway and knocks on the bedroom door. "John?"
There is an answering rumble of some sort. Satisfied, Father comes back to the kitchen and puts his tea cup on the sideboard.
The toast has already popped up, so Tristram puts the pieces on a plate, which he hands to Emily, and puts in two more.
"Did he sleep in your room?" she asks Father conversationally, as she reaches absently into the refrigerator for the butter.
Father hums an affirmative response.
"My father slept on the couch," Tristram announces, just so there's no misunderstanding.
Father gives Tristram an odd look, but doesn't say anything.
The bedroom door opens and Doctor Watson emerges, wearing loose sweatpants and a sweatshirt with something written on the front that's obscured by the bundle of clothes he's clutching in front of him. He blinks the same way Emily did just a few minutes ago. "Morning everyone," he says, his voice still rough from sleep.
"Hi Daddy." Emily jumps up to give him a hug. He hugs her back with one hand and runs a hand over her hair, then looks over at Tris and smiles. "Morning, Tris."
"Hi," Tristram says, then busies himself with the next two pieces of toast that pop up.
"You sleep all right on the couch?" Doctor Watson asks Father.
"Didn't end up sleeping," Father says, but he mumbles the words a bit and looks away, which makes Tristram suspicious. But why would he lie about whether he slept or not?
Doctor Watson becomes a little more alert at that too, but apparently for another reason. "Anything new?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.
Father shakes his head and pushes off the counter he was leaning against. "She was still too heavily sedated. If you get ready quickly, we can go to the hospital together after we bring the children to school."
Doctor Watson disappears into the bathroom, and Tristram hears the water turn on. Emily gets out orange juice and butter, and they settle down to breakfast.
It's a bit weird - but fun - to leave the flat with everyone half an hour later. Emily is still telling her father about using the microscope yesterday, and Doctor Watson says he wants to see the notes and illustrations they made.
Just as they get to the bottom of the stairs, Mrs Hudson pops out, still in her dressing gown, and says good morning. She pretends she happens to be checking if the newspaper is there yet, but Tristram can see that her fingers are already smudged with newsprint from licking them to turn the pages.
She doesn't manage much more than an introduction before Father pulls the front door open and says they have to run. They won't actually have to run, of course, but they may have to make quick time if they're walking with Doctor Watson and Emily, neither of whom are anywhere near as fast as Father.
"Oh, watch out, there's a package!" Mrs Hudson warns Father - who's looking back at Doctor Watson and not paying attention to where he's going - just before he steps on it.
Everyone looks down. A white plastic box is standing right outside the door. Tristram recognises it as the type that's used to transport body parts. Father must have asked someone to drop something off for one of his experiments. But Father doesn't pick it up. Instead, he snaps his arm out as if to hold everyone else back, and crouches down, craning his neck so he can look at it from every angle.
"Sherlock?" Doctor Watson's voice has that sharp edge to it. Not the one he used yesterday when he got angry at Father for mentining that other case, the one with Moran. No, this voice is the one he used when he said, 'Three minutes,' on Friday Afternoon. Three minutes until the not-bomb was supposed to go off. Tristram takes a careful step backwards up the stairs.
"What is it?" Emily wants to know.
"Stay back," Doctor Watson says, still sharp. Then he turns to Mrs Hudson. "I'm sorry, would you mind taking them-"
"Of course," she agrees. "Tristram, Emily, why don't you come inside with me." She reaches out and puts a hand on Emily's shoulder. "We can go right on through to the back-"
"No need for that, Mrs Hudson. It's not an explosive," Father says without taking his eye off the box for a second. "In fact..." He sticks his hands into his coat pockets and comes up with a pair of plastic gloves that he quickly wriggles his fingers into. Then he flips open the lid of the box as if it's a treasure chest. Nothing happens, aside from him letting out a long sigh. Tristram knows that sigh. It's the one he makes when he's hit upon a particularly interesting puzzle. Tristram stands on his toes to see what's inside the box.
"Oh my God," says Doctor Watson, who also steps forward to look at the contents. "Are those-"
Mrs Hudson peers into the box, too, then gasps and turns away, her hand against her cheek.
"Cool, is that an eye?" Emily says, before Mrs Hudson pulls her back to the doorway of her flat.
"Say hello to Princess." Father sounds almost proud.
"Are they returning them?" Doctor Watson asks. "Why not bring them to Bart's? Not that it's possible to re-attach an eye. The tooth maybe, it looks like they got the whole root."
Tristram wants very much to see what's in the box now, but his father's head is in the way.
Father looks up at Doctor Watson from where he's hunched down on the floor as if he were mad. "This is the message, John. We're not bringing these to Bart's. Well, maybe to use the lab. Wouldn't it be brilliant if they've put something inside?" He leans down so close to the box his nose is practically touching it.
"Sherlock, no," Doctor Watson says in a voice that allows no contradiction. He bends down to pick up the box, but Father grabs his wrist to stop him.
"This is evidence, John."
"Those belong to Abigail McCarthy, and she might well like to have them back."
"You can't give them back. You said yourself they can't do anything with the eye, and she won't miss one more tooth. She'll probably be glad not to have it, one less to worry about it going bad."
"You did not just say that."
"I did, and I'm not going to apologise. Not if this helps us to get one step closer to- Oh!" Father's eyes light up and his grip tightens on Doctor Watson's arm. "Oh, John! An eye and a tooth! I thought at first it must have something to do with eyeteeth, but then why wouldn't they simply have taken an eyetooth? And that would be ridiculous anyway, no message there. No, it's-"
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," Doctor Watson completes the thought, with Mrs Hudson chiming in for the last phrase as well.
"But what does it mean?" Mrs Hudson asks, looking from one man to the other.
Doctor Watson and Father are staring at each other. It's not one of those long, electric stares they used to give each other at the Watsons' house and that made Tristram uncomfortable without quite knowing why. This stare makes him uncomfortable, too, but he knows why: Doctor Watson and Father are about to have another disagreement.
"Go back upstairs," Doctor Watson says. He's still looking at Father, but Tristram knows he's talking to him and Emily.
"But we're going to be late for school!" Emily complains.
They really are. At this point, they'll have to take a cab to have any hope of getting there on time.
"You're not going to school," her father tells her.
"Wrong," Father says, standing up in one smooth motion.
"You do know what that phrase means, don't you?" Doctor Watson says. "Revenge, Sherlock. Tit for tat, a life for a life."
"Yes, but look how this was done." Father gestures down at the open box, where Tristram can now see the eye, packed in plastic, staring up at the ceiling. Father's done things with eyes - both animal and human - before, so this isn't anything shocking. "Precise. Neat. They took exactly what they needed, no more, no less. They're not going to do anything messy, and they're not going to repeat themselves. No bombs, no kidnappings-"
"Oh dear," Mrs Hudson says, her voice quavering. "All this talk of bombs and kidnapping, Sherlock, I'm not sure it's right."
"Quite right, Mrs Hudson," Father says. He takes out his phone and snaps some pictures of the box from different angles, saying at the same time: "Tristram, come along. I'm taking you to school."
"Sherlock, this is mad-" Doctor Watson protests, but Father keeps talking right over him.
"It's exactly as safe as staying here, with the added benefit of leaving both of us free to follow up on other leads." Father puts away his phone again and picks up the box, tucking it under one arm. "Or, if you must, you can go wipe noses and put on plasters. Tristram? We'll have to get a cab." He inclines his head toward the street.
Tristram looks at Doctor Watson. He's staring at Father, looking grim.
"You can leave Emily with me, Doctor Watson," Mrs Hudson offers. "I'd be happy to watch her if you need to go to work."
"I want to go with Tris," Emily says firmly. "If he's going to school, so am I."
"Yeah, hold on," Doctor Watson says, not taking his eyes off Father. "You have to be sure, Sherlock. This isn't about you being clever. We know what they're capable of."
Father shakes his head and smiles, but he's not smiling at Doctor Watson, exactly, and certainly not to reassure him. He's smiling the way he does when he's engaged, when he comes as close as Tristram knows him to being happy. "Oh, you're wrong, John. It's all about being clever now. This is a new game, with new rules. And yes, I'm sure."
Tristram doesn't understand what his father means about a game, but he said no more bombs or kidnappings, and his father's always right. Always. He hopes Doctor Watson agrees, because he doesn't want to have to choose.
Finally, Doctor Watson nods. "All right." Everyone lets out their breath. He jerks his head toward Emily. "Come on."
Emily darts over to him, and Tristram scrambles to get to the door.
"Is there anything you'd like me to do, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asks.
"No, thank you, Mrs Hudson. It's all under control."
Father is practically buzzing with energy on the way out to the street. His eyes are bright and his hands are flying all over, waving down a cab, plucking at the box, adjusting and re-adjusting his scarf. Doctor Watson, on the other hand, almost seems to have been turned to stone. His mouth is fixed in a thin line and his shoulders are rigid, his hand clamped around Emily's shoulder.
"Can I see the eye again?" Emily asks once they're settled in the cab.
Doctor Watson barks out, "No," before Father can answer. Emily starts at the sharp tone. He turns to her and explains carefully but with a thrumming sort of tension, "Emily, a lady was hurt very badly. She's half blind now. That can't ever be fixed. Sherlock is going to see if he can find any clues that will help us track down the people who did it. He's not taking the eye and the tooth to play with, or do experiments on, or because he's curious like you and Tris were yesterday with the samples you looked under the microscope. Do you understand?"
Emily nods, chastened. Tristram sneaks a look at his father, because he's pretty sure that a big part of the reason he wants to take the eye and the tooth to the lab at the hospital is curiosity. The fact that he might also be able to track down some criminals (or killers, if this is related to the Moran case) is a lesser point. But his father isn't even looking at Doctor Watson. He's looking out the window, his fingers drumming rapidly on the lid of the transport box. He's probably already thinking about what he wants to do once he gets to the lab.
&&&&&&
After school, Doctor Watson is waiting for Tristram and Emily with a cab. Tristram expects they'll all go back to Baker Street, but Doctor Watson apologises and explains that with all the excitement that morning, he forgot Emily has an appointment to see the lady with the Geomag and the ping-pong. Tristram had forgot all about her too. Father said he'd make an appointment for Tristram, but he didn't, and now Tristram will just have to tag along and wait with Doctor Watson in the waiting room, which isn't fair at all. Emily doesn't think so, either, and says she won't go in without him, but Doctor Watson asks her to please not make it any more difficult, and Tristram can tell he's this close to losing his temper. Emily goes, dragging her feet.
Once she's gone, Tristram scowls at the floor for a good five minutes while Doctor Watson goes out to get himself a coffee from the machine down the hall. When he comes back, he wordlessly sets a can of some fizzy drink down next to Tristram and slumps down into the chair beside him, blowing on his coffee. Tristram wouldn't mind drinking the fizzy drink - Father and Mrs Hudson never buy any, so it's a forbidden novelty for him - but he doesn't want to forgive Doctor Watson yet. Although he knows that doesn't make much sense, since it's not Doctor Watson's fault that Emily's inside playing games and he's stuck out here. Still, he doesn't want to give Doctor Watson the satisfaction of him drinking it.
Doctor Watson doesn't mention the drink, though. He just sits there quietly, drinking his coffee. When he's just about done with it (Tristram can tell by the way the sound of him sipping gets a bit more hollow as the cup empties), he starts talking. Tristram, captive audience that he is, can't help but listen.
"When I was first in the army," Doctor Watson begins, and Tristram's interest is immediately, helplessly piqued, because he knows that Doctor Watson used to be in the army, but he's never said a word about it. It's true they played army games yesterday, but Tristram realises only now that those scenarios were probably based on real ones Doctor Watson experienced. He wonders, with a somewhat guilty thrill, whether Doctor Watson has ever killed anyone.
"There was this bloke," Doctor Watson is saying, "one of the other doctors at the base where I was stationed. Captain Gentry. We called him Gents. Sometimes Ladies and Gents." Doctor Watson grins. "Sometimes just Ladies." Tristram is still staring at the floor, but he can hear the smile.
"Gents was a big guy, probably even bigger than your dad." Doctor Watson puts his cup down and folds his hands, which Tristram sees out of the corner of his eye. "But calm," he continues. "He never lost his head. No matter what was going on around him, he kept it together. Mortar rounds going off close enough we can feel the ground shaking, bodies coming in missing half their parts, Gents was as calm as a day at the beach. To me, he was everything a military doctor should be, and I wanted to be just like him. He was competent and efficient, he knew when to ignore protocol if it would save a life, and he didn't seem to be affected by the immensity of the tragedies going on around us.
"But you know what I figured out fairly quickly was, Gents was like that because he didn't care. I mean, yes, he cared about saving patients, but he didn't have any emotional investment. If they died, or were sent home crippled or paralysed or blind, that was just the way things worked out. So while the rest of us would go out and get drunk off our rocks, or pick fights to burn off some of that anger and desperation we'd picked up, Gents would be working another shift to cover our sorry arses when we turned up hung over or with our knuckles too swollen to operate."
Tristram thinks he sees where Doctor Watson is going with this. He's pretty much describing Father's attitude toward the people in his cases, both the victims he's able to help, their families, and those who are beyond help. Father cares about solving the cases, but he doesn't care about the people. He doesn't get sad when someone dies, even if it's a serial killer case and there's a new victim while he's working on it. In fact, he likes those best because they give him the freshest data.
Maybe Doctor Watson has just figured this out, and is trying to explain it to Tristram. Tristram knows it already, though, and it doesn't bother him. He knows it's the biggest reason why some of the police officers his father works with don't like him very much, but Tristram can see Father's point: as long as he gets the results and solves the cases for them, it doesn't matter one way or the other how he feels about it.
Doctor Watson goes on with his story: "I tried to do that," he says. "I tried to block it out and not be affected by the patients' anger, or their fear, or the thought of what kind of future they might have, but I couldn't. I simply couldn't, it always got to me, and I thought, well, I'll never be as good a doctor as Gents. I'll always have this weakness. But do you know what happened then?" Doctor Watson asks.
Of course Tristram doesn't, but this is one of those rhetorical questions he's supposed to wait for the answer for, and Doctor Watson provides it right away.
"I found out I was wrong about Gents," he says. "Everyone was. Because one day, he went through the ward, made sure all his patients were comfortable, topped up with pain medication, what have you, went back to his barracks, and... Well, he tried to kill himself, Tris." Doctor Watson's hands tighten over each other.
Tristram is so startled by that statement that he turns to look at Doctor Watson. Not only is this a twist he didn't see coming, he is deeply disquieted by the suggestion - through the parallel he's drawn in his own mind - that Father might also try to kill himself. Why would he do that? It doesn't make any sense.
"Someone found him in time," Doctor Watson reassures him quickly, "and we were able to save his life, but it turned out he actually did care about all those people he'd treated and not been able to save, or thought he hadn't been able to do enough for. He didn't want to care, but he did. And that hurt him, so much, that he didn't know what to do with all that hurt. Do you..." Doctor Watson shifts a bit in his chair so he's facing Tristram more squarely. "Do you see what I'm trying to say here, Tris?"
Tristram really doesn't. Is Father upset about a case? Does this have anything to do with him and Doctor Watson? Tristram must look as bewildered as he feels, even if he doesn't say anything, because Doctor Watson again answers his own question.
"Okay," he sighs, "what I'm trying to tell you, and obviously failing spectacularly at, is it's okay to have feelings about things. Even bad feelings. Especially bad feelings. It's okay to be angry, or sad, or not even to understand what you're feeling. What's not so good is to pretend they're not there. Because they are, and at some point they're going to come out, maybe in a way that will hurt you, or maybe in a way that will hurt someone else."
Does his father have bad feelings? Has Tristram made him feel bad? He must know - of course he does, he knows everything - that Tristram was unhappy (or scared, or angry, or … or something, he doesn't know) about him and Doctor Watson being together like that, even about them being friends, and that's why they stopped, that's why they aren't like that anymore, that's why they're sleeping in different rooms and not talking easily and laughing like they used to, and his father was sneaking around and sleeping on the floor just so he could be close to Doctor Watson but he ran away as soon as Tristram saw them. An unpleasant, prickly feeling lodges in Tristram's chest.
"I didn't mean to-" Tristram blurts out. "I didn't-" He shakes his head. He clutches at the hard plastic seat of the chair. It's smooth, and warm, and slightly tacky; Tristram wonders if that's from the plastic itself or from his fingers. He could wash one hand and not the other and try touching it ag-
"Hey, Tris, it's okay," Doctor Watson says, his voice gentle and reassuring. He reaches over and puts a hand on Tristram's lower arm. "Whatever it is, it's okay."
It's not, though, it's not, he's been selfish and childish. How would he have felt if his father had disapproved of him being friends with Emily? He doesn't want to think about that because it would have hurt, a lot. And that's how he's made his father feel. The worst part is, he feels a tiny, secret bit of triumph. He knows that's also not okay, no matter what Doctor Watson says. But he doesn't want his father to be sad, and he certainly doesn't want him to hurt himself!
"Is it... Do you want to tell me?" Doctor Watson shifts so he's facing Tristram more directly. His hand is still on Tristram's arm, not moving, not even really holding, just there, not letting Tristram ignore him.
Tristram shakes his head. He really, really doesn't. He's embarrassed, not only because he knows he messed up, but also because talking about it means talking about - or at least acknowledging - Father and Doctor Watson kissing.
"This is um..." Doctor Watson clears his throat. "That's sort of what I'm talking about. Tris?" He squeezes Tristram's arm, just a little. "You're an amazing kid. You're an amazing person, full stop. You've seen things, and done things, and been through things that- Well, lots of grown-ups wouldn't have dealt with it all nearly as well as you have. But sometimes I …" He sucks in a deep breath. "I worry about you, Tristram. Just a little, just... I wonder what's going on in your head. What you're thinking. What you're feeling."
Doctor Watson stops talking then and waits. Tristram didn't think he really needed to say anything, because there wasn't a question, but now it seems like Doctor Watson's waiting for Tristram to speak. To say what he's thinking. What he's feeling. He doesn't know. He's uncomfortable, that's all. He wishes Emily were done and they could go home. He shrugs, hoping that will be enough to appease Doctor Watson. It seems it is, because he starts talking again.
"Okay," he says. "I can understand if you're not sure. There's been a lot going on, and I can imagine some of it's pretty confusing. But Tris, this is really important. I'd really like it if you could talk to someone, sometime, about whatever it is. Or about anything, really. I'm happy to be that person, if you want. I won't tell your dad either, if you don't want me to. Or, you know, sometimes it helps to write your feelings down, or to draw a picture about how you feel. But mostly, I want you to know that you're not alone. Even if you don't feel like talking, or don't know what to say, you've got your dad, and Mrs Hudson, and me and Emily, and all of us will always stick with you. Always. Okay?"
Tristram nods because that's what Doctor Watson wants him to do. So that they can be done with this conversation.
Doctor Watson squeezes Tristram's arm once more and takes it away. That makes Tristram feel even worse, which is stupid because it means he's done talking, which is what Tristram wants. All of a sudden, he has the mortifying urge to crawl into Doctor Watson's lap and curl up there, like Emily does sometimes. He's too big for that, though, and anyway Doctor Watson isn't his father! Not that he would curl up on his father's lap either.
He picks up the fizzy drink and opens it without thinking about it, just to have something to do, something to distract himself. He takes a tentative sip; it's so prickly on his tongue he can hardly taste it, and it makes his nose and eyes water. It's definitely the drink prickling that makes his eyes water.
&&&&&&
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no subject
Date: 2014-03-02 08:14 pm (UTC)Mmm, I felt a little like that at the end of this chapter. It all seems so confusing to Tristram. Emily, at least, seems to accept the situation but I can see Tristram worrying that he’s not able to help, or able to sort things out in his own mind . . .
At least John is making an effort, even if his efforts don’t make much sense to Tristram. I’m not sure whether he’d prefer to return to how things were before he met Emily and John, or whether he’d like to move forward! It’s great seeing how things progress, though!!
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Date: 2014-03-02 08:20 pm (UTC)And yeah, John's floundering a bit here. I thought he was getting a little too perfect at being in tune with everyone's emotions, so I wanted to show him bumbling a bit, even if he is making an effort.
Since we're seeing most of this through Tristram's eyes, it feels like Tristram's taking the biggest hits in this, but actually I think it's John who's bearing the brunt of everyone's baggage, including his own. The man's a rock.
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Date: 2014-03-07 07:38 am (UTC)And eeeep, that conversation between John and Tristram - omg, poor John, he tries so hard but Tristram just doesn't open up to him.
But yay, great chapter! Can't wait to see where all of this is going.
...okay, so I won't have to wait long because I'm popping over to the next chapter right away... :P
no subject
Date: 2014-03-07 07:44 am (UTC)I think John doesn't want to push Tristram too hard because he does also see how Tristram and Sherlock are similar in their emotional fragility, and he has seen how Sherlock reacted with anger and rejection when John tried to probe into emotional issues.
Thanks for your thoughtful response!