Fic: Still Sherlock 3/?
Title: Still Sherlock chapter three
Author: ununpentium
Fandom: BBC Sherlock with the fusion of the novel Still Alice
Rating: Mature
Wordcount: 1371 (this chapter)
Warnings: Choosing not to warn (this means there will be potentially triggery and upsetting things but warning will give the plot away)
Read from the beginning on AO3
Chapter three on AO3
Tuesday morning saw Sherlock and John having a rare lie in together in bed. The sunlight was streaming through the open window; summer was making its presence known. John lay with his head cushioned on Sherlock’s chest, his head rising and falling with each of Sherlock’s breaths. Sherlock was lazily carding his fingers through John’s sandy hair.
“Have you ever thought about what you want to do after you fully retire?”
“Not really,” John answered sleepily, “don’t really mind as long as I’m with you.”
Sherlock smiled softly.
“I’ve always had this notion of buying a cottage by the sea.”
“That sounds lovely. Quite a bit different from London though, you sure you wouldn’t get bored?”
Sherlock closed his eyes.
“I’d have you.”
~*~*~
After an unusually quiet month, marked by the noticeable absence of any cases and a steep increase in the amount of explosive experiments being performed by Sherlock, Donovan finally rang with a case.
“A body has been found by the docks, sealed inside a shipping container,” Sherlock explained to John as they were on their way to Docklands in the cab, “The container, carrying a Ferrari, was sealed two months ago ready for transportation on a ship which was never cleared to sail. The container was about to be loaded onto another ship today and so it was unsealed so the car could be checked.”
“But?”
“But the container had not been unsealed during the past two months, and yet when it was opened, the car had gone and it had been replaced with a dead body. CCTV footage has been recovered from a camera pointing towards the container which apparently confirms the container was not disturbed. So how did a body make its way inside?”
“What do you think? Fake CCTV feed? A camera can’t capture 360 degree footage around the container, can it?”
Sherlock rubbed his hands together in excitement.
“I can’t theorise without having all of the data, John, you know that. But we do know that the CCTV camera was mounted on a pole nearby the container. It was remote controlled and had a three hundred and sixty degree axis of rotation. It was set to continually rotate, taking five minutes to make one complete turn.”
“How long was the container not visible for?”
Sherlock consulted his moleskine journal where he had written down the basic facts of the case.
“About three minutes. Not long enough to break into the container, remove a car, deposit a body and reseal it.”
“Could they not have kept coming back every time the camera was pointed away?”
Sherlock smiled at John, amusement dancing across his eyes.
“The police already came up with that idea. Footage from other CCTV cameras in the vicinity that are fixed disproves that theory.”
The cab came to a stop and Sherlock leapt out, leaving John to pay. Sherlock strode over to Sally Donovan, immediately demanding to see the body.
“Hi Freak. Ask me nicely and I might let you.”
Sherlock drew a deep breath.
“You called me here, Donovan. Stop wasting my time and show me the body.”
Donovan rolled her eyes and lifted up the police tape for Sherlock and John to walk under. She led them across the site, weaving around other shipping containers waiting to be loaded onto the cargo ship that was currently docked.
“He’s inside the green one,” Sally pointed to it, “we’ve already taken some photographs and checked the CCTV footage like I told you, but that’s all.”
Sherlock headed straight for the container without acknowledging Sally further. John apologised and ran after Sherlock. When John entered the container, Sherlock was already kneeling over the body with his magnifier.
“Okay, so, adult male. Probably late fifties.” John began, kneeling down beside Sherlock.
“Would you say he’s been dead about a week? Rigor Mortis has come and gone, and-”.
Sherlock frowned. What was he about to say? It was like the word had dropped out of his head.
John looked up at him quizzically.
“As I was saying, Rigor Mortis has come and gone and it is visible from the body that, that… um.” Sherlock gesticulated towards the green discolouration on the skin of the body, covering the entire torso and most of the arms and legs.
“Putrefaction has begun. Yes, I’d estimate that he has been dead between seven and eight days. A post-mortem would confirm.” John jumped in.
Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Putrefaction. That was the word he was looking for.
Sherlock snapped open his eyes and began thoroughly investigating the rest of the container, starting with the corner furthest away from John.
~*~*~
Night had fallen and Sherlock and John were sitting in a cab on their way back to Baker Street. The case had been, as Sherlock had said, “stupidly easy once you peeled back the layers of incompetence provided by the Metropolitan Police.” The CCTV feeds had turned out to be crucial and once Sherlock had double checked them it was evident that the camera had been set to take a longer rotation on one night eight days previously, ensuring there was enough time to deposit the body and reseal the container. Once Sherlock deemed the case too dull he immediately ordered John to leave with him, leaving the Met to piece together exactly why there was a dead body in a shipping container.
“Well that was a waste of a day.”
John sighed.
“In your opinion, Sherlock, aiding the police in a murder investigation is a waste of a day?”
“It was dull, therefore it was a waste.” Sherlock huffed and turned to look out of the window at the passing traffic.
John reached out towards Sherlock’s hand and softly clasped it. Sherlock did not pull away, and so John held on to Sherlock’s hand more firmly.
“How about Thai for tea? If you ring now, it should be delivered around the time we make it back to the flat.”
Sherlock nodded, turning to look at John.
“Chicken Pad Thai?”
“As always. You’ll have to ring though; I forgot my mobile in your mad rush to get out of the door.”
Sherlock looked sheepishly at John.
“Apologies,” Sherlock frowned and tilted his head, “I don’t think I have my phone either?”
That struck John as being very strange indeed. Sherlock Holmes was surgically attached to his phone. He was never without it and he always knew where it was.
“Did you have it with you when were in Docklands?” John prompted.
Sherlock couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember what type of phone it was. He was starting to panic.
“I don’t… I don’t know, John.”
John could hear the panic in Sherlock’s voice; it was making it jump and crack. He continued to stroke Sherlock’s hand in a soothing manner.
“Why don’t we rule out where it isn’t first? Have you checked your jacket pocket?”
Sherlock patted his chest, trying to feel for a phone shaped lump. What did a phone feel like? His hand was shaking.
“Coat pocket?”
Sherlock thrust his hand in his coat pocket and his fingers brushed up against something hard and smooth. He pulled it out in order to look at it.
“There you go! In your coat the whole time,” John smiled.
Sherlock looked at what he was holding. John recognised it as Sherlock’s phone, so why couldn’t Sherlock recognise it? It was like someone had taken his schema for a phone and deleted it from his head. Interesting.
Sherlock forced a smile.
“It’s always in the last place you look, though of course that is simple logic. You don’t carry on looking after you have found it, do you?”
John was looking at him expectantly. Oh, yes, the Thai. He had to ring the takeaway and order the food. Sherlock wondered how to go about this task when suddenly it came flooding back, and he unlocked his phone, dialling the number as he fell back against the seat.
He was not relieved. He was scared.
The month he had set himself was up and he was still forgetting things; things that were vital to him and his work.
He knew the time had come to see the doctor.
----
CHAPTER FOUR
Author: ununpentium
Fandom: BBC Sherlock with the fusion of the novel Still Alice
Rating: Mature
Wordcount: 1371 (this chapter)
Warnings: Choosing not to warn (this means there will be potentially triggery and upsetting things but warning will give the plot away)
Read from the beginning on AO3
Chapter three on AO3
Tuesday morning saw Sherlock and John having a rare lie in together in bed. The sunlight was streaming through the open window; summer was making its presence known. John lay with his head cushioned on Sherlock’s chest, his head rising and falling with each of Sherlock’s breaths. Sherlock was lazily carding his fingers through John’s sandy hair.
“Have you ever thought about what you want to do after you fully retire?”
“Not really,” John answered sleepily, “don’t really mind as long as I’m with you.”
Sherlock smiled softly.
“I’ve always had this notion of buying a cottage by the sea.”
“That sounds lovely. Quite a bit different from London though, you sure you wouldn’t get bored?”
Sherlock closed his eyes.
“I’d have you.”
~*~*~
After an unusually quiet month, marked by the noticeable absence of any cases and a steep increase in the amount of explosive experiments being performed by Sherlock, Donovan finally rang with a case.
“A body has been found by the docks, sealed inside a shipping container,” Sherlock explained to John as they were on their way to Docklands in the cab, “The container, carrying a Ferrari, was sealed two months ago ready for transportation on a ship which was never cleared to sail. The container was about to be loaded onto another ship today and so it was unsealed so the car could be checked.”
“But?”
“But the container had not been unsealed during the past two months, and yet when it was opened, the car had gone and it had been replaced with a dead body. CCTV footage has been recovered from a camera pointing towards the container which apparently confirms the container was not disturbed. So how did a body make its way inside?”
“What do you think? Fake CCTV feed? A camera can’t capture 360 degree footage around the container, can it?”
Sherlock rubbed his hands together in excitement.
“I can’t theorise without having all of the data, John, you know that. But we do know that the CCTV camera was mounted on a pole nearby the container. It was remote controlled and had a three hundred and sixty degree axis of rotation. It was set to continually rotate, taking five minutes to make one complete turn.”
“How long was the container not visible for?”
Sherlock consulted his moleskine journal where he had written down the basic facts of the case.
“About three minutes. Not long enough to break into the container, remove a car, deposit a body and reseal it.”
“Could they not have kept coming back every time the camera was pointed away?”
Sherlock smiled at John, amusement dancing across his eyes.
“The police already came up with that idea. Footage from other CCTV cameras in the vicinity that are fixed disproves that theory.”
The cab came to a stop and Sherlock leapt out, leaving John to pay. Sherlock strode over to Sally Donovan, immediately demanding to see the body.
“Hi Freak. Ask me nicely and I might let you.”
Sherlock drew a deep breath.
“You called me here, Donovan. Stop wasting my time and show me the body.”
Donovan rolled her eyes and lifted up the police tape for Sherlock and John to walk under. She led them across the site, weaving around other shipping containers waiting to be loaded onto the cargo ship that was currently docked.
“He’s inside the green one,” Sally pointed to it, “we’ve already taken some photographs and checked the CCTV footage like I told you, but that’s all.”
Sherlock headed straight for the container without acknowledging Sally further. John apologised and ran after Sherlock. When John entered the container, Sherlock was already kneeling over the body with his magnifier.
“Okay, so, adult male. Probably late fifties.” John began, kneeling down beside Sherlock.
“Would you say he’s been dead about a week? Rigor Mortis has come and gone, and-”.
Sherlock frowned. What was he about to say? It was like the word had dropped out of his head.
John looked up at him quizzically.
“As I was saying, Rigor Mortis has come and gone and it is visible from the body that, that… um.” Sherlock gesticulated towards the green discolouration on the skin of the body, covering the entire torso and most of the arms and legs.
“Putrefaction has begun. Yes, I’d estimate that he has been dead between seven and eight days. A post-mortem would confirm.” John jumped in.
Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Putrefaction. That was the word he was looking for.
Sherlock snapped open his eyes and began thoroughly investigating the rest of the container, starting with the corner furthest away from John.
~*~*~
Night had fallen and Sherlock and John were sitting in a cab on their way back to Baker Street. The case had been, as Sherlock had said, “stupidly easy once you peeled back the layers of incompetence provided by the Metropolitan Police.” The CCTV feeds had turned out to be crucial and once Sherlock had double checked them it was evident that the camera had been set to take a longer rotation on one night eight days previously, ensuring there was enough time to deposit the body and reseal the container. Once Sherlock deemed the case too dull he immediately ordered John to leave with him, leaving the Met to piece together exactly why there was a dead body in a shipping container.
“Well that was a waste of a day.”
John sighed.
“In your opinion, Sherlock, aiding the police in a murder investigation is a waste of a day?”
“It was dull, therefore it was a waste.” Sherlock huffed and turned to look out of the window at the passing traffic.
John reached out towards Sherlock’s hand and softly clasped it. Sherlock did not pull away, and so John held on to Sherlock’s hand more firmly.
“How about Thai for tea? If you ring now, it should be delivered around the time we make it back to the flat.”
Sherlock nodded, turning to look at John.
“Chicken Pad Thai?”
“As always. You’ll have to ring though; I forgot my mobile in your mad rush to get out of the door.”
Sherlock looked sheepishly at John.
“Apologies,” Sherlock frowned and tilted his head, “I don’t think I have my phone either?”
That struck John as being very strange indeed. Sherlock Holmes was surgically attached to his phone. He was never without it and he always knew where it was.
“Did you have it with you when were in Docklands?” John prompted.
Sherlock couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember what type of phone it was. He was starting to panic.
“I don’t… I don’t know, John.”
John could hear the panic in Sherlock’s voice; it was making it jump and crack. He continued to stroke Sherlock’s hand in a soothing manner.
“Why don’t we rule out where it isn’t first? Have you checked your jacket pocket?”
Sherlock patted his chest, trying to feel for a phone shaped lump. What did a phone feel like? His hand was shaking.
“Coat pocket?”
Sherlock thrust his hand in his coat pocket and his fingers brushed up against something hard and smooth. He pulled it out in order to look at it.
“There you go! In your coat the whole time,” John smiled.
Sherlock looked at what he was holding. John recognised it as Sherlock’s phone, so why couldn’t Sherlock recognise it? It was like someone had taken his schema for a phone and deleted it from his head. Interesting.
Sherlock forced a smile.
“It’s always in the last place you look, though of course that is simple logic. You don’t carry on looking after you have found it, do you?”
John was looking at him expectantly. Oh, yes, the Thai. He had to ring the takeaway and order the food. Sherlock wondered how to go about this task when suddenly it came flooding back, and he unlocked his phone, dialling the number as he fell back against the seat.
He was not relieved. He was scared.
The month he had set himself was up and he was still forgetting things; things that were vital to him and his work.
He knew the time had come to see the doctor.
----
CHAPTER FOUR