Fic: The Cuckoo's Lullaby, 11/17
Aug. 7th, 2014 12:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swissmargTitle: The Cuckoo's Lullaby
Author:
swissmarg
Beta readers:ruth0007, 
dioscureantwins
Rating: R
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Other characters: Irene Adler, OCs
Word count: ca. 85K when complete
Summary: Sequel to 'Cracks in the In-Between Places'. A Swiss holiday seems to be the perfect way for the Holmeses and the Watsons to recover from their recent troubles and deepen their attachments to each other, but when Tristram's mother and the bogeyman both turn up, loyalties are put to the ultimate test.
See Chapter One for additional notes
Read Chapter Eleven on AO3
Sitting in the hotel restaurant, waiting for their dinner, Tristram takes his new knife out of his pocket and admires it for about the fiftieth time. It's classic red, and it has not only a magnifying lens, but also a wire cutter and a pair of scissors in addition to the basic kit. Emily got a silver one with a pen, a saw and a screwdriver, which is also rather cool. They were only allowed to pick three extras each. John said it was because otherwise it would have been too expensive, and Father said it was because they didn't have all day. Emily chose different ones than Tristram on purpose. This way, she said, they could have twice as many between them and they'd be an even better team. Sometimes Emily is fairly clever. Pretty much all the time, really, except for maths.
John and Father came out of the bedroom just when the animal rescue programme he and Emily were watching ended and told them to put their jackets back on. Both Father and John were all red around the mouth and neck, and Father's clothes were rumpled. Tristram couldn't tell about John's clothes because they're usually kind of rumpled anyway. Tristram doesn't mind anymore when Father and John kiss (as long as he doesn't have to watch), but he's beginning to wonder if it's really normal that they spend so much time doing it. Doesn't it get boring putting your mouth on someone else's after a few seconds?
It turned out they were going to the knife museum after all. It wasn't even up on a mountain. Like the nature museum they went to that morning, it was just a building on a street, although it was a bigger, more modern building in a bigger, more modern town that they had to take a train to get to.
John was in a good mood all afternoon, laughing and joking. He sat next to Father on the way there so that Emily and Tristram could both ride facing forward, and at one point he and Father put their hands on top of each other on Father's leg, the same way they did in the car on the way to the airport the first time, before Mister Tonga was arrested. Tristram wouldn't have said John seemed particularly worried before, but now it was as if his whole body was lighter and his whole face kept pulling upward. Tristram began to see what Emily meant about how her father used to be, before her mother was killed.
Father was more subdued, although maybe it just seemed that way in comparison to John's exuberance. He was certainly engaged and present, readily answering Emily's questions about the mummified remains of a Stone Age man that were found in the Alps a couple of decades ago. Even so, Tristram had the feeling he was brooding over something. It might have been a case, or Irene, or something else altogether. It wasn't over John, though, because he held onto John's hand tighter than tight and even when they let gojust as someone walked past, Father kept his leg pressed right up against John's.
There was a time not too long ago - really not long ago, just a few days - when that would have made Tristram feel resentful because why should John get to sit next to Father and put his hands on him when Tristram was sitting on the other seat all alone? Even if he wasn't really alone, because Emily was right next to him. But the point was, he wasn't next to Father. However, he knows now that if he'd really needed it, Father would have pulled him over and let Tristram put his head on his lap. Or Tristram could have put his arms around Father and held him as tight as he wanted, like he did back at the safe house. If he had needed it. He didn't, but he knows he could have. Both of those things, and more, are possibilities now. It never occurred to him that they were before. Before they had John and Emily. But so many things are different now. Better. So maybe John needed Father's leg against his.
John smiled at Tristram then, as if he'd read his mind. Tristram smiled back quickly and looked out the window, because they were coming out of the tunnel.
Later, at the knife company's visitor's centre, Father sat at the pocket knife assembly station with Tristram on his lap and helped him work the machine because Tristram couldn't do it himself with one hand in a cast. It was almost like sitting together on the toboggan, except it was quieter and there wasn't any wind taking his breath away. And he and Father talked while they put the knife together, discussing what the best tools would be and why. Father said it was too bad there wasn't a wire or something that could be used as a lock-pick, but when they got home he'd add one for him.
Then they went to a snack bar because the missed lunch eventually caught up to Emily and Tristram. Father and Tristram sat on one side of the table, and John and Emily sat on the other side. Tristram told Father about the duel with the icicles, and they had a nice discussion about whether it's possible to kill someone with an icicle. (The conclusion was: not by stabbing, but possibly by bludgeoning, if the icicle were big enough.) Tristram also told him about the bird calls, and Father said he thought it would be an excellent idea to learn a bird call or two. And then Emily thought of the idea to make a whole secret code with bird calls that only the four of them would know. Just in case. She didn't say in case of what, but they all knew. And Father said he thought that was an excellent idea too.
So all in all it was a fairly brilliant afternoon. If it hadn't been for Father's preoccupation with whatever it was he was preoccupied with, Tristram might have called it perfect. Even tonight, as they all sit together in the hotel restaurant, Father's eyes have a distant look to them although he's looking right at Tristram. It's not that Tristram thinks Father doesn't see him or is lost in thought; it's more like he's trying to see more. Like he can't get enough of whatever it is that he sees there, in Tristram's face. It's slightly unnerving, even for Tristram, who's more than used to being the subject of his father's scrutiny and all manner of stares.
John doesn't appear to notice it. Instead, he seems to be pre-occupied with something of his own, as he looks a bit self-conscious. "Here, I erm... got you all something." He lifts his hips up so he can dig something out of the pocket of his trousers. He comes up with some key chains. They all have a plastic square attached with some sort of picture enclosed in the plastic. John hands one key chain to each of them - one for Emily, one for Tristram, and one for Father.
Tristram looks at his and is surprised to see there's a picture of Father in the plastic. In fact, it's a copy of the rail pass picture they took at the airport. Well, not a copy; it's one of the very pictures from the strip that came out of the machine. Tristram flips the key chain over and sees himself looking back at him. He turns it back to Father's picture and can't help grinning.
"Cool!" Emily exclaims. She's grinning at her key chain too, and for a moment Tristram feels an odd almost-jealousy that Emily also has a picture of Father to carry around with her. But then she tilts her key chain toward Tristram, and he sees that it's the picture of her own father from the photo booth. "And look, there's me on the back," Emily says and shows him. She leans in a bit more so she can see Tristram's key chain. He obliges and turns it over so she can see the other side too. She laughs. "Your and Sherlock's hair is both sticking out the same."
John had pointed that out too, when they first got the pictures. Tristram flips the plastic trinket back and forth quickly several times. It almost has the effect of a flip book. He watches, fascinated, as his features morph into his father's and back, over and over.
"Who's on yours?" Emily asks.
Tristram is about to frown at her in confusion, because she's just seen who's on his, but then he realises she's asking Father. Surely he also has himself and Tristram.
Father closes his hand around the key chain John gave him and slips it into his pocket. His face looks long and he's keeping his eyes down. "There's a picture of Tristram," he says, but he's being evasive; Tristram knows the signs.
"Can I see?" Emily asks and holds out her hand.
"It's the same picture Tristram has on his," Father tells her, which means no. He's frowning, but he says it gently, almost too quietly.
"Here, you can see mine." John hands her the key chain he'd kept for himself.
Tristram leans in to see it too. One side has Emily and the other has the picture of John and Father laughing together in the photo booth and looking silly.
Tristram's a little bit - just a tiny bit - disappointed that he's the only one who's not in any of the pictures on John's key chain. But there wouldn't be any room for another picture anyway. And he doesn't have John or Emily on his, and Emily doesn't have him or Father on hers. So somehow it all evens out. Still, he's left with a vague sense of dissatisfaction despite the fact that he likes his key chain very much.
Tristram is curious, though, which picture is on the other side of Father's key chain. It's not likely to be Emily. That leaves either John or... Is it one of the photos that weren't supposed to be taken? One of the ones with their fathers kissing... or the one where they were staring into each other's eyes?
Once Tristram and Emily are in bed, Sherlock follows John into the bathroom. He closes the door behind them, takes John's face between the palms of his hands and presses a kiss to his mouth, holding it until John has to pull back to breathe. Sherlock only lets him fill his lungs once before he puts his lips on John's again and plasters their bodies together, both hands moving onto John's back - one sliding up into his hair and the other down to press his hips forward against Sherlock's.
John's hands find their way to Sherlock's hips and squeeze. "You're welcome," he somehow manages to murmur into the non-existent space between them.
"For what?" Sherlock says distractedly.
"No idea, but whatever it is, you're welcome to it. Everything..." He can't speak for several long seconds then. When Sherlock finally lets him come up for air again, he says, "Let me just get cleaned up a bit and I'll er... meet you in the other room."
"I want you inside me," Sherlock says breathlessly and pulls John's shirt out of his trousers so he can get one hand up underneath.
"Yeah, erm... God, okay, but have you..." John takes half a step back to give Sherlock more room to work with and swallows heavily. "Sherlock, it's not something..." They go in for another long kiss, but when Sherlock starts unbuttoning John's shirt, John angles his head down so that Sherlock can't reach his lips easily for a moment. He clears his throat but keeps his eyes closed. "Have you ever done that before?" he asks.
Sherlock pauses. "What difference does that make?" He sounds irritated.
John exhales. "So, okay. It's..." He lifts his head and looks at Sherlock. "I haven't. I don't have anything against in in principle, but if neither of has experience... I like how things have been going. There's no rush, right? I - It's my fault for all that 'properly' rot, I'm sorry if I made you think-"
Sherlock frowns thunderously. "If you don't want to have anal intercourse with me, you only need say so."
John huffs out a laugh. "Sherlock, I think I would quite literally do anything you wanted me to, which is a fairly frightening thought. But for this..." John takes a deep breath and looks Sherlock square in the eye. "Did you get an enema kit, along with the condoms and lubricant?"
"That's not necessary," Sherlock scoffs.
"Well, no, not technically, but it's my preference. For both of our health and safety. I'm almost out of gloves too, I've been using them up on Tris's back. Look, if we're going back tomorrow anyway- When we get back. We can try it then. Either way. Both ways. Anything you want... I mean," he hedges tentatively, "if you still want to...if we're still..."
Sherlock stills his hands and squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the side of John's face. "I honestly can't imagine ever not wanting this... you..." he says in a low voice. He takes a deep breath and continues, "I don't just mean that particular act... or any of that. I just ... you..."
John turns his head enough to find Sherlock's lips. "I know, yeah, me too. God, so much. So much," he repeats almost inaudibly.
Sherlock finishes unbuttoning John's shirt as they kiss. John still has a white t-shirt on underneath, but that doesn't stop Sherlock from smoothing his hands over John's torso wherever he can reach. When John doesn't reciprocate, Sherlock picks John's hands up from where they are still gripping Sherlock's hips and places them on the placket of his shirt.
John smiles into their kiss. "What are you doing?"
"Obvious."
"I'm not having sex here in the bathroom." There's not much weight behind the words, though, and John doesn't make any attempt to stop Sherlock from continuing to disrobe him.
"Dull," Sherlock says as he pulls John's shirt off his shoulders.
"I need a good wash, for one thing." John nuzzles against Sherlock's head as Sherlock places butterfly kisses on his neck. "Feels like I've tramping up and down the entire country."
"It's a very small country," Sherlock points out. Without detaching his lips from John, he leans back and gropes around for the faucet to the large, round bathtub.
"Sherlock, wait, you... you want us to take a bath together?"
Sherlock straightens and glances from the large tub to John with a sly look. "I believe it was made for that specific purpose." He's about to turn the water on when John puts out his hand to stop him.
"We can't hear what's going on out there with the water running," he says gently.
Sherlock's expression falters then turns into a scowl. "Yes. Right." His hand drops away from the faucet and he stands there, one hand still on John's chest, staring down at his fingers distractedly.
"You go first, then we can switch," John offers, trying to keep the mood upbeat.
Sherlock pushes away from John and stands with his head down, bracing himself against the sink. "I wish this were done." His voice is bitter and low, and as tense as his shoulders.
John takes half a step toward Sherlock but stops before he touches him. He thrusts his fisted hands into his pockets. "Tomorrow. We can go home tomorrow and this whole thing will be over in no time."
"Is Sherlock hurt?" Emily asks in a hushed voice once their fathers have disappeared into the bathroom.
The lights are off, the curtains drawn tight. When they came back after dinner, the curtains were open, which threw everyone into a tizzy until Father decided all it meant was that the housekeeping staff had been in. They hadn't been able to clean that morning because Father was in the room. But the curtains are closed now, and John said he'd leave instructions with the front desk to leave them that way.
John and Father both read to them tonight from the Harry Potter book. At first they sat like they had the other night: John on the sofa bed with Tristram and Emily on either side of him and Father in the chair with his feet propped up on the end of the bed, doing something on his phone. Then John got to the end of the chapter and everyone started to shift for the tucking-into-bed part when Father said, "Give me the book, I'll read another chapter."
John and Tristram kind of sat there and gawped at him. Emily grinned and plucked the book out of her father's limp hands and shuffled forward to hand it to Father.
"Chapter ten," she said and settled back against her own father's side.
And then Father read. That chapter had Dumbledore in it too, and Father did his voice every bit as perfectly as Tristram - and Emily - had suspected he would.
Father read to them before, of course, back at their flat. Tristram had been mildly surprised that he'd agreed when Emily asked him, but he'd been quite willing; perhaps even flattered.
Tristram considers with a guilty start, lying there in the dark next to Emily, that perhaps Father had wanted to be asked to read before tonight too. Maybe that's why he sat in the chair at the end of the bed and pretended to be busy with his phone: because he wanted to be included but didn't know whether he was welcome. Of course Tristram would never in a million years have thought to ask his father to read him a story at bedtime. Has this side of his father always been there, waiting for someone to discover it? Or is this him trying on a part, like he does when he pretends to be a streets and sanitation worker or a clergyman or a policeman? (Tristram knows Father could get in a lot of trouble for that last one and he's not to tell anyone.)
Father's done quite a lot of things, come to think of it, that aren't exactly typical for him, since he and John have become boyfriends. The whole boyfriends thing itself is the hugest one, of course, but there are a lot more. Not that any of the new things are bad - some of them are quite good, in Tristram's opinion - but he can't help thinking that Father's always relieved when he can take off the reflective vest or vicar's collar or uniform and wash the dirt or dye or styling gel out of his hair.
What if he's just playing a part now? Tristram doesn't think he's pretending to be John's boyfriend for a case; the way he and John were looking at each other in that one picture, the genuine pleasure and happiness in his voice when he and John really get talking, the fact that he invited John and Emily into their home and took them to meet Grandmother ... no, that's not fake. But maybe he's doing it for John. Maybe he's acting the way he thinks John's boyfriend should act because he wants to be that person. But can he keep that up forever? What will happen when he wants his old hairstyle and clothes back, figuratively speaking? Tristram gets an unpleasant chill in the pit of his stomach at the thought. Because he doesn't want to go back to life without John and Emily.
He doesn't think Emily would stop being his friend if Father and John weren't boyfriends anymore. John said he was Tristram's friend too. Maybe they could still go to the park on Sunday morning once in a while and have a bun. And maybe John would still sit in the waiting room while he plays games with Mrs Daniels. Maybe. But there definitely wouldn't be any stories at bedtime or having breakfast together. No more pillow fights. No more of John taking care of his injuries - not that Tristram expects to get hurt that badly again, but he's oddly come to enjoy their little nightly ritual of re-applying bandages and talking about things he'd never talk about with Emily or his father.
On the other hand, maybe Tristram has nothing to worry about. Maybe this is simply how Father acts when he has a best friend who's also his boyfriend. Tristram has no data for comparison.
But Emily has asked him a question. Another example of atypical behaviour: Father following John into the bathroom. It's a good guess on Emily's part, that he might be hurt. That's pretty much the only reason Tristram knows of for two people to go into a bathroom together, is for one to help the other because they're hurt or sick. But the four of them been together all afternoon and evening, and he didn't see anything happen to Father that might require medical care. So he answers, "No, I don't think so."
"He went in the bathroom with my dad," she points out, in case Tristram hadn't seen the connection.
"Maybe they wanted to kiss." Tristram can't think of anything else. Even though John said that they might see him and Father hugging or kissing and he didn't want them to be uncomfortable about it, Tristram's noticed they're always careful to go into another room when they want to kiss each other more than just a quick greeting or good-bye.
"In the bathroom?" Emily asks, incredulous. Tristram can imagine the sceptical twist to her mouth and has to smile.
"Maybe they wanted to brush their teeth first." That seems more reasonable. The toothpaste adverts on the telly are always going on about how they make your breath kissably fresh. Maybe they just didn't want to wait that long with taking turns.
They lie there silently, listening. Tristram fancies he might hear a voice, but it's speaking too low and indistinct for him even to tell whether it's Father or John. Maybe it's not even coming from inside their suite. There's definitely no sound of water running, though.
Emily breaks the silence. "How much longer do you think we're going to stay here?" Her voice floats across the mattress to him, disembodied.
The question of when they're going back, of course, is entirely dependent on why they're here in the first place. A question which Father and John have been evasive at best on. So Tristram gives the only answer he can: "I don't know."
"What if we miss so much school they make us repeat the year?" Emily wonders. She sounds anxious.
Tristram's not really anxious about missing school. He wouldn't even care about repeating the year, as such. It's not as if he has any friends in his class that he wants to move up with. But it would be incredibly dreary to have to re-do all the same worksheets and readings. Even if they go back soon, though, he's going to have masses of work to catch up on, and he'll still have the cast for another three weeks. And even after that, the physical therapist at the hospital warned him, his right hand would be weak for a long time. He should practise left-handed writing some more.
But then he remembers his father said everything with the school was taken care of. He tells Emily, and that seems to comfort her. Although 'taken care of' could mean lots of things. Tristram keeps that thought to himself because really, it won't do them any good to worry about it.
"Did your father say anything to you? About why we're here?" Tristram asks instead. Because John's apparently talked to Emily about things before that no one thought to discuss with Tristram. To be fair, the reverse is true as well. Tristram hasn't always been entirely forthcoming with Emily on certain matters. Like the fact that the bullet that hit him was meant for her father.
"He just said we all needed to get away after everything that's happened," Emily says.
Neither of them have to mention what those things are: not just him getting shot, but the almost attack at the airport, Friday Afternoon, her Aunt Claire being killed...
"What did your dad tell you?" Emily asks back. Tristram hears her shifting, and feels the mattress jiggle as she turns onto her side to face him.
"He said it was a holiday. But I also think he's working on a case." He didn't say it directly, but he hinted at it. On the other hand, he's been spending an awful lot of time with Tristram and John and Emily, going to restaurants and playing - and sleeping all night - which he definitely wouldn't do if he were on a case. Still, there's undeniably something else occupying his father's thoughts.
"But they caught the man." Tristram can hear Emily's little frown.
But Father also said, when he came back from the airport, that it wasn't over yet. Tristram doesn't know whether Emily didn't hear that or didn't understand what it meant. Another secret. He absolutely cannot tell her the one about her father being the hit man's target. That's over now anyway. But he thinks she does need to know about this.
So Tristram turns onto his side too and says in a low voice, "He wasn't the one behind it all. Whoever sent him is still out there."
Tristram can actually hear Emily's throat click as she swallows. "The bogeyman," she whispers.
"There's no such thing as a bogeyman," Tristram says firmly, repeating what Father said. It gives him more confidence to hear his voice forming the words. "Whoever it is, it's just a person. And I think my dad and your dad are still looking for him."
"Here?" It sounds like she thinks that's a pretty far-fetched idea. It also sounds as if it hadn't occurred to her before that they might not be safe here, and she doesn't really like the idea.
Tristram tries to reassure her as best he can. Father's said several times that they were safe here, and Tristram has to believe that's true. "I think... I think this is like the safe house, only it's a whole safe country. They can't get us here. But maybe we can't go back until they find whoever's the real bad guy."
"How can they find him from here?" Emily asks.
That's a reasonable question. Father does a lot of his investigations through the computer and his phone, but when it really comes down to it, he's best tracking down leads in person. But Father isn't the only one working on it this time.
"I think my uncle's helping them," Tristram says.
Uncle Mycroft has to be involved. They stayed at his house that one night when John and Father went out together, and then they all had to leave head over heels in the middle of the night. That was when everything really started. And Uncle Mycroft arranged for this trip too. Tristram's almost one hundred percent certain that Uncle Mycroft's helping to catch whoever sent Mister Tonga. No, he's sure. One hundred percent.
"I hope they find him soon," Emily says.
The bathroom door opens and they fall silent. John comes out and closes the door behind him, then goes into the bedroom. The shower starts.
John's left the bedroom door open. Tristram doesn't want him to hear them talking about all this stuff. Tristram knows that he and Father are trying to keep as much as they can from Tristram and Emily so that they don't get scared. Admittedly, Tristram's panic attacks are probably a factor in that decision. As is Emily's insecurity about being separated from her father, which even Tristram's picked up on. He wonders what else there is that he and Emily haven't guessed yet. What other dangers are lurking.
He turns onto his back and waits for sleep.
Chapter notes: The Victorinox (Swiss army knife maker) visitor's centre and museum website is here. It is about an hour from Meiringen by car. They only actually offer one model of knife for self-assembly, the Spartan. But it would be cool if they let you put on any attachment you wanted. :)
The mummified Stone Age man is 'Ötzi', named for the Ötztal region on the Austrian-Italian border where he was found.
The 'Friday Afternoon' that Tristram references is from Getting Better, when he and Emily were kidnapped.
I have been reliably informed that children in the UK are not held back in school due to absences, so Emily and Tristram would have nothing to worry about.
Author:
swissmargBeta readers:
ruth0007, Rating: R
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Other characters: Irene Adler, OCs
Word count: ca. 85K when complete
Summary: Sequel to 'Cracks in the In-Between Places'. A Swiss holiday seems to be the perfect way for the Holmeses and the Watsons to recover from their recent troubles and deepen their attachments to each other, but when Tristram's mother and the bogeyman both turn up, loyalties are put to the ultimate test.
See Chapter One for additional notes
Read Chapter Eleven on AO3
Chapter Eleven
Sitting in the hotel restaurant, waiting for their dinner, Tristram takes his new knife out of his pocket and admires it for about the fiftieth time. It's classic red, and it has not only a magnifying lens, but also a wire cutter and a pair of scissors in addition to the basic kit. Emily got a silver one with a pen, a saw and a screwdriver, which is also rather cool. They were only allowed to pick three extras each. John said it was because otherwise it would have been too expensive, and Father said it was because they didn't have all day. Emily chose different ones than Tristram on purpose. This way, she said, they could have twice as many between them and they'd be an even better team. Sometimes Emily is fairly clever. Pretty much all the time, really, except for maths.
John and Father came out of the bedroom just when the animal rescue programme he and Emily were watching ended and told them to put their jackets back on. Both Father and John were all red around the mouth and neck, and Father's clothes were rumpled. Tristram couldn't tell about John's clothes because they're usually kind of rumpled anyway. Tristram doesn't mind anymore when Father and John kiss (as long as he doesn't have to watch), but he's beginning to wonder if it's really normal that they spend so much time doing it. Doesn't it get boring putting your mouth on someone else's after a few seconds?
It turned out they were going to the knife museum after all. It wasn't even up on a mountain. Like the nature museum they went to that morning, it was just a building on a street, although it was a bigger, more modern building in a bigger, more modern town that they had to take a train to get to.
John was in a good mood all afternoon, laughing and joking. He sat next to Father on the way there so that Emily and Tristram could both ride facing forward, and at one point he and Father put their hands on top of each other on Father's leg, the same way they did in the car on the way to the airport the first time, before Mister Tonga was arrested. Tristram wouldn't have said John seemed particularly worried before, but now it was as if his whole body was lighter and his whole face kept pulling upward. Tristram began to see what Emily meant about how her father used to be, before her mother was killed.
Father was more subdued, although maybe it just seemed that way in comparison to John's exuberance. He was certainly engaged and present, readily answering Emily's questions about the mummified remains of a Stone Age man that were found in the Alps a couple of decades ago. Even so, Tristram had the feeling he was brooding over something. It might have been a case, or Irene, or something else altogether. It wasn't over John, though, because he held onto John's hand tighter than tight and even when they let gojust as someone walked past, Father kept his leg pressed right up against John's.
There was a time not too long ago - really not long ago, just a few days - when that would have made Tristram feel resentful because why should John get to sit next to Father and put his hands on him when Tristram was sitting on the other seat all alone? Even if he wasn't really alone, because Emily was right next to him. But the point was, he wasn't next to Father. However, he knows now that if he'd really needed it, Father would have pulled him over and let Tristram put his head on his lap. Or Tristram could have put his arms around Father and held him as tight as he wanted, like he did back at the safe house. If he had needed it. He didn't, but he knows he could have. Both of those things, and more, are possibilities now. It never occurred to him that they were before. Before they had John and Emily. But so many things are different now. Better. So maybe John needed Father's leg against his.
John smiled at Tristram then, as if he'd read his mind. Tristram smiled back quickly and looked out the window, because they were coming out of the tunnel.
Later, at the knife company's visitor's centre, Father sat at the pocket knife assembly station with Tristram on his lap and helped him work the machine because Tristram couldn't do it himself with one hand in a cast. It was almost like sitting together on the toboggan, except it was quieter and there wasn't any wind taking his breath away. And he and Father talked while they put the knife together, discussing what the best tools would be and why. Father said it was too bad there wasn't a wire or something that could be used as a lock-pick, but when they got home he'd add one for him.
Then they went to a snack bar because the missed lunch eventually caught up to Emily and Tristram. Father and Tristram sat on one side of the table, and John and Emily sat on the other side. Tristram told Father about the duel with the icicles, and they had a nice discussion about whether it's possible to kill someone with an icicle. (The conclusion was: not by stabbing, but possibly by bludgeoning, if the icicle were big enough.) Tristram also told him about the bird calls, and Father said he thought it would be an excellent idea to learn a bird call or two. And then Emily thought of the idea to make a whole secret code with bird calls that only the four of them would know. Just in case. She didn't say in case of what, but they all knew. And Father said he thought that was an excellent idea too.
So all in all it was a fairly brilliant afternoon. If it hadn't been for Father's preoccupation with whatever it was he was preoccupied with, Tristram might have called it perfect. Even tonight, as they all sit together in the hotel restaurant, Father's eyes have a distant look to them although he's looking right at Tristram. It's not that Tristram thinks Father doesn't see him or is lost in thought; it's more like he's trying to see more. Like he can't get enough of whatever it is that he sees there, in Tristram's face. It's slightly unnerving, even for Tristram, who's more than used to being the subject of his father's scrutiny and all manner of stares.
John doesn't appear to notice it. Instead, he seems to be pre-occupied with something of his own, as he looks a bit self-conscious. "Here, I erm... got you all something." He lifts his hips up so he can dig something out of the pocket of his trousers. He comes up with some key chains. They all have a plastic square attached with some sort of picture enclosed in the plastic. John hands one key chain to each of them - one for Emily, one for Tristram, and one for Father.
Tristram looks at his and is surprised to see there's a picture of Father in the plastic. In fact, it's a copy of the rail pass picture they took at the airport. Well, not a copy; it's one of the very pictures from the strip that came out of the machine. Tristram flips the key chain over and sees himself looking back at him. He turns it back to Father's picture and can't help grinning.
"Cool!" Emily exclaims. She's grinning at her key chain too, and for a moment Tristram feels an odd almost-jealousy that Emily also has a picture of Father to carry around with her. But then she tilts her key chain toward Tristram, and he sees that it's the picture of her own father from the photo booth. "And look, there's me on the back," Emily says and shows him. She leans in a bit more so she can see Tristram's key chain. He obliges and turns it over so she can see the other side too. She laughs. "Your and Sherlock's hair is both sticking out the same."
John had pointed that out too, when they first got the pictures. Tristram flips the plastic trinket back and forth quickly several times. It almost has the effect of a flip book. He watches, fascinated, as his features morph into his father's and back, over and over.
"Who's on yours?" Emily asks.
Tristram is about to frown at her in confusion, because she's just seen who's on his, but then he realises she's asking Father. Surely he also has himself and Tristram.
Father closes his hand around the key chain John gave him and slips it into his pocket. His face looks long and he's keeping his eyes down. "There's a picture of Tristram," he says, but he's being evasive; Tristram knows the signs.
"Can I see?" Emily asks and holds out her hand.
"It's the same picture Tristram has on his," Father tells her, which means no. He's frowning, but he says it gently, almost too quietly.
"Here, you can see mine." John hands her the key chain he'd kept for himself.
Tristram leans in to see it too. One side has Emily and the other has the picture of John and Father laughing together in the photo booth and looking silly.
Tristram's a little bit - just a tiny bit - disappointed that he's the only one who's not in any of the pictures on John's key chain. But there wouldn't be any room for another picture anyway. And he doesn't have John or Emily on his, and Emily doesn't have him or Father on hers. So somehow it all evens out. Still, he's left with a vague sense of dissatisfaction despite the fact that he likes his key chain very much.
Tristram is curious, though, which picture is on the other side of Father's key chain. It's not likely to be Emily. That leaves either John or... Is it one of the photos that weren't supposed to be taken? One of the ones with their fathers kissing... or the one where they were staring into each other's eyes?
&&&&&&&
Once Tristram and Emily are in bed, Sherlock follows John into the bathroom. He closes the door behind them, takes John's face between the palms of his hands and presses a kiss to his mouth, holding it until John has to pull back to breathe. Sherlock only lets him fill his lungs once before he puts his lips on John's again and plasters their bodies together, both hands moving onto John's back - one sliding up into his hair and the other down to press his hips forward against Sherlock's.
John's hands find their way to Sherlock's hips and squeeze. "You're welcome," he somehow manages to murmur into the non-existent space between them.
"For what?" Sherlock says distractedly.
"No idea, but whatever it is, you're welcome to it. Everything..." He can't speak for several long seconds then. When Sherlock finally lets him come up for air again, he says, "Let me just get cleaned up a bit and I'll er... meet you in the other room."
"I want you inside me," Sherlock says breathlessly and pulls John's shirt out of his trousers so he can get one hand up underneath.
"Yeah, erm... God, okay, but have you..." John takes half a step back to give Sherlock more room to work with and swallows heavily. "Sherlock, it's not something..." They go in for another long kiss, but when Sherlock starts unbuttoning John's shirt, John angles his head down so that Sherlock can't reach his lips easily for a moment. He clears his throat but keeps his eyes closed. "Have you ever done that before?" he asks.
Sherlock pauses. "What difference does that make?" He sounds irritated.
John exhales. "So, okay. It's..." He lifts his head and looks at Sherlock. "I haven't. I don't have anything against in in principle, but if neither of has experience... I like how things have been going. There's no rush, right? I - It's my fault for all that 'properly' rot, I'm sorry if I made you think-"
Sherlock frowns thunderously. "If you don't want to have anal intercourse with me, you only need say so."
John huffs out a laugh. "Sherlock, I think I would quite literally do anything you wanted me to, which is a fairly frightening thought. But for this..." John takes a deep breath and looks Sherlock square in the eye. "Did you get an enema kit, along with the condoms and lubricant?"
"That's not necessary," Sherlock scoffs.
"Well, no, not technically, but it's my preference. For both of our health and safety. I'm almost out of gloves too, I've been using them up on Tris's back. Look, if we're going back tomorrow anyway- When we get back. We can try it then. Either way. Both ways. Anything you want... I mean," he hedges tentatively, "if you still want to...if we're still..."
Sherlock stills his hands and squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the side of John's face. "I honestly can't imagine ever not wanting this... you..." he says in a low voice. He takes a deep breath and continues, "I don't just mean that particular act... or any of that. I just ... you..."
John turns his head enough to find Sherlock's lips. "I know, yeah, me too. God, so much. So much," he repeats almost inaudibly.
Sherlock finishes unbuttoning John's shirt as they kiss. John still has a white t-shirt on underneath, but that doesn't stop Sherlock from smoothing his hands over John's torso wherever he can reach. When John doesn't reciprocate, Sherlock picks John's hands up from where they are still gripping Sherlock's hips and places them on the placket of his shirt.
John smiles into their kiss. "What are you doing?"
"Obvious."
"I'm not having sex here in the bathroom." There's not much weight behind the words, though, and John doesn't make any attempt to stop Sherlock from continuing to disrobe him.
"Dull," Sherlock says as he pulls John's shirt off his shoulders.
"I need a good wash, for one thing." John nuzzles against Sherlock's head as Sherlock places butterfly kisses on his neck. "Feels like I've tramping up and down the entire country."
"It's a very small country," Sherlock points out. Without detaching his lips from John, he leans back and gropes around for the faucet to the large, round bathtub.
"Sherlock, wait, you... you want us to take a bath together?"
Sherlock straightens and glances from the large tub to John with a sly look. "I believe it was made for that specific purpose." He's about to turn the water on when John puts out his hand to stop him.
"We can't hear what's going on out there with the water running," he says gently.
Sherlock's expression falters then turns into a scowl. "Yes. Right." His hand drops away from the faucet and he stands there, one hand still on John's chest, staring down at his fingers distractedly.
"You go first, then we can switch," John offers, trying to keep the mood upbeat.
Sherlock pushes away from John and stands with his head down, bracing himself against the sink. "I wish this were done." His voice is bitter and low, and as tense as his shoulders.
John takes half a step toward Sherlock but stops before he touches him. He thrusts his fisted hands into his pockets. "Tomorrow. We can go home tomorrow and this whole thing will be over in no time."
&&&&&&
"Is Sherlock hurt?" Emily asks in a hushed voice once their fathers have disappeared into the bathroom.
The lights are off, the curtains drawn tight. When they came back after dinner, the curtains were open, which threw everyone into a tizzy until Father decided all it meant was that the housekeeping staff had been in. They hadn't been able to clean that morning because Father was in the room. But the curtains are closed now, and John said he'd leave instructions with the front desk to leave them that way.
John and Father both read to them tonight from the Harry Potter book. At first they sat like they had the other night: John on the sofa bed with Tristram and Emily on either side of him and Father in the chair with his feet propped up on the end of the bed, doing something on his phone. Then John got to the end of the chapter and everyone started to shift for the tucking-into-bed part when Father said, "Give me the book, I'll read another chapter."
John and Tristram kind of sat there and gawped at him. Emily grinned and plucked the book out of her father's limp hands and shuffled forward to hand it to Father.
"Chapter ten," she said and settled back against her own father's side.
And then Father read. That chapter had Dumbledore in it too, and Father did his voice every bit as perfectly as Tristram - and Emily - had suspected he would.
Father read to them before, of course, back at their flat. Tristram had been mildly surprised that he'd agreed when Emily asked him, but he'd been quite willing; perhaps even flattered.
Tristram considers with a guilty start, lying there in the dark next to Emily, that perhaps Father had wanted to be asked to read before tonight too. Maybe that's why he sat in the chair at the end of the bed and pretended to be busy with his phone: because he wanted to be included but didn't know whether he was welcome. Of course Tristram would never in a million years have thought to ask his father to read him a story at bedtime. Has this side of his father always been there, waiting for someone to discover it? Or is this him trying on a part, like he does when he pretends to be a streets and sanitation worker or a clergyman or a policeman? (Tristram knows Father could get in a lot of trouble for that last one and he's not to tell anyone.)
Father's done quite a lot of things, come to think of it, that aren't exactly typical for him, since he and John have become boyfriends. The whole boyfriends thing itself is the hugest one, of course, but there are a lot more. Not that any of the new things are bad - some of them are quite good, in Tristram's opinion - but he can't help thinking that Father's always relieved when he can take off the reflective vest or vicar's collar or uniform and wash the dirt or dye or styling gel out of his hair.
What if he's just playing a part now? Tristram doesn't think he's pretending to be John's boyfriend for a case; the way he and John were looking at each other in that one picture, the genuine pleasure and happiness in his voice when he and John really get talking, the fact that he invited John and Emily into their home and took them to meet Grandmother ... no, that's not fake. But maybe he's doing it for John. Maybe he's acting the way he thinks John's boyfriend should act because he wants to be that person. But can he keep that up forever? What will happen when he wants his old hairstyle and clothes back, figuratively speaking? Tristram gets an unpleasant chill in the pit of his stomach at the thought. Because he doesn't want to go back to life without John and Emily.
He doesn't think Emily would stop being his friend if Father and John weren't boyfriends anymore. John said he was Tristram's friend too. Maybe they could still go to the park on Sunday morning once in a while and have a bun. And maybe John would still sit in the waiting room while he plays games with Mrs Daniels. Maybe. But there definitely wouldn't be any stories at bedtime or having breakfast together. No more pillow fights. No more of John taking care of his injuries - not that Tristram expects to get hurt that badly again, but he's oddly come to enjoy their little nightly ritual of re-applying bandages and talking about things he'd never talk about with Emily or his father.
On the other hand, maybe Tristram has nothing to worry about. Maybe this is simply how Father acts when he has a best friend who's also his boyfriend. Tristram has no data for comparison.
But Emily has asked him a question. Another example of atypical behaviour: Father following John into the bathroom. It's a good guess on Emily's part, that he might be hurt. That's pretty much the only reason Tristram knows of for two people to go into a bathroom together, is for one to help the other because they're hurt or sick. But the four of them been together all afternoon and evening, and he didn't see anything happen to Father that might require medical care. So he answers, "No, I don't think so."
"He went in the bathroom with my dad," she points out, in case Tristram hadn't seen the connection.
"Maybe they wanted to kiss." Tristram can't think of anything else. Even though John said that they might see him and Father hugging or kissing and he didn't want them to be uncomfortable about it, Tristram's noticed they're always careful to go into another room when they want to kiss each other more than just a quick greeting or good-bye.
"In the bathroom?" Emily asks, incredulous. Tristram can imagine the sceptical twist to her mouth and has to smile.
"Maybe they wanted to brush their teeth first." That seems more reasonable. The toothpaste adverts on the telly are always going on about how they make your breath kissably fresh. Maybe they just didn't want to wait that long with taking turns.
They lie there silently, listening. Tristram fancies he might hear a voice, but it's speaking too low and indistinct for him even to tell whether it's Father or John. Maybe it's not even coming from inside their suite. There's definitely no sound of water running, though.
Emily breaks the silence. "How much longer do you think we're going to stay here?" Her voice floats across the mattress to him, disembodied.
The question of when they're going back, of course, is entirely dependent on why they're here in the first place. A question which Father and John have been evasive at best on. So Tristram gives the only answer he can: "I don't know."
"What if we miss so much school they make us repeat the year?" Emily wonders. She sounds anxious.
Tristram's not really anxious about missing school. He wouldn't even care about repeating the year, as such. It's not as if he has any friends in his class that he wants to move up with. But it would be incredibly dreary to have to re-do all the same worksheets and readings. Even if they go back soon, though, he's going to have masses of work to catch up on, and he'll still have the cast for another three weeks. And even after that, the physical therapist at the hospital warned him, his right hand would be weak for a long time. He should practise left-handed writing some more.
But then he remembers his father said everything with the school was taken care of. He tells Emily, and that seems to comfort her. Although 'taken care of' could mean lots of things. Tristram keeps that thought to himself because really, it won't do them any good to worry about it.
"Did your father say anything to you? About why we're here?" Tristram asks instead. Because John's apparently talked to Emily about things before that no one thought to discuss with Tristram. To be fair, the reverse is true as well. Tristram hasn't always been entirely forthcoming with Emily on certain matters. Like the fact that the bullet that hit him was meant for her father.
"He just said we all needed to get away after everything that's happened," Emily says.
Neither of them have to mention what those things are: not just him getting shot, but the almost attack at the airport, Friday Afternoon, her Aunt Claire being killed...
"What did your dad tell you?" Emily asks back. Tristram hears her shifting, and feels the mattress jiggle as she turns onto her side to face him.
"He said it was a holiday. But I also think he's working on a case." He didn't say it directly, but he hinted at it. On the other hand, he's been spending an awful lot of time with Tristram and John and Emily, going to restaurants and playing - and sleeping all night - which he definitely wouldn't do if he were on a case. Still, there's undeniably something else occupying his father's thoughts.
"But they caught the man." Tristram can hear Emily's little frown.
But Father also said, when he came back from the airport, that it wasn't over yet. Tristram doesn't know whether Emily didn't hear that or didn't understand what it meant. Another secret. He absolutely cannot tell her the one about her father being the hit man's target. That's over now anyway. But he thinks she does need to know about this.
So Tristram turns onto his side too and says in a low voice, "He wasn't the one behind it all. Whoever sent him is still out there."
Tristram can actually hear Emily's throat click as she swallows. "The bogeyman," she whispers.
"There's no such thing as a bogeyman," Tristram says firmly, repeating what Father said. It gives him more confidence to hear his voice forming the words. "Whoever it is, it's just a person. And I think my dad and your dad are still looking for him."
"Here?" It sounds like she thinks that's a pretty far-fetched idea. It also sounds as if it hadn't occurred to her before that they might not be safe here, and she doesn't really like the idea.
Tristram tries to reassure her as best he can. Father's said several times that they were safe here, and Tristram has to believe that's true. "I think... I think this is like the safe house, only it's a whole safe country. They can't get us here. But maybe we can't go back until they find whoever's the real bad guy."
"How can they find him from here?" Emily asks.
That's a reasonable question. Father does a lot of his investigations through the computer and his phone, but when it really comes down to it, he's best tracking down leads in person. But Father isn't the only one working on it this time.
"I think my uncle's helping them," Tristram says.
Uncle Mycroft has to be involved. They stayed at his house that one night when John and Father went out together, and then they all had to leave head over heels in the middle of the night. That was when everything really started. And Uncle Mycroft arranged for this trip too. Tristram's almost one hundred percent certain that Uncle Mycroft's helping to catch whoever sent Mister Tonga. No, he's sure. One hundred percent.
"I hope they find him soon," Emily says.
The bathroom door opens and they fall silent. John comes out and closes the door behind him, then goes into the bedroom. The shower starts.
John's left the bedroom door open. Tristram doesn't want him to hear them talking about all this stuff. Tristram knows that he and Father are trying to keep as much as they can from Tristram and Emily so that they don't get scared. Admittedly, Tristram's panic attacks are probably a factor in that decision. As is Emily's insecurity about being separated from her father, which even Tristram's picked up on. He wonders what else there is that he and Emily haven't guessed yet. What other dangers are lurking.
He turns onto his back and waits for sleep.
Chapter notes: The Victorinox (Swiss army knife maker) visitor's centre and museum website is here. It is about an hour from Meiringen by car. They only actually offer one model of knife for self-assembly, the Spartan. But it would be cool if they let you put on any attachment you wanted. :)
The mummified Stone Age man is 'Ötzi', named for the Ötztal region on the Austrian-Italian border where he was found.
The 'Friday Afternoon' that Tristram references is from Getting Better, when he and Emily were kidnapped.
I have been reliably informed that children in the UK are not held back in school due to absences, so Emily and Tristram would have nothing to worry about.
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no subject
Date: 2014-08-07 09:16 pm (UTC)”Tristram couldn't tell about John's clothes because they're usually kind of rumpled anyway.”
In his own way, Tristram’s as observant as Sherlock – but what a delightful description!
”Maybe that's why he sat in the chair at the end of the bed and pretended to be busy with his phone: because he wanted to be included but didn't know whether he was welcome. Of course Tristram would never in a million years have thought to ask his father to read him a story at bedtime. Has this side of his father always been there, waiting for someone to discover it?”
What a poignant little moment - I do so like the way you write Tristram’s thoughts – sometimes he gets it right away, other time, he has the child’s perspective and other times he stumbles along and eventually comes to a completely right or completely wrong conclusion!
Thankfully no alarms in this chapter; but it was nice to see the adults talking to each other, and trying to sort through their lives, too.
no subject
Date: 2014-08-08 07:26 am (UTC)No, no alarms here... those are coming!