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Grandeur Incarnate

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Today was just another visit to play his violin with Eurus. Have a short conversation perhaps and dwell on some unsolved cases. He went through the usual procedures, checked, scanned, scanned again and a quick pat check. Never one for any sort of touchy contact, but if it meant walking into that room hed sustain the nearly unbearable physical portion of their security. 

 

“Finally, “ Sherlock sighed dropping his arms to his sides, “I am going in now,” He picked up his violin case and  walked to the revolving door. The deafening screeches of that concrete have become as routine as his visits. As if some spark in pavlov's dog his smile began to spread across his face as he enters the room. 

 

“Hello,” Eurus says standing up.

 

“Hello oh dear dear sister of mine.” Sherlock says settling the case on the ground next to the door. 

 

“Yes, oh is that, are we playing something special today?” She inquired. 

 

They spoke for some time about the most recent piece he composed. One unlike his last one, Eurus looked at the paper and shook her head. “Just play it already, lets see whats new with you!” She sat on her bed cross legged and let out a soft laugh.

 

Sherlock simply nodded, “I present to you-”

 

 Eurus cut him off quickly, “Oh do just play it already!” Sherlock laughed in response and began his own fully composed piece. Eurus shut her eyes and swayed to the notes drifting through the glass.

 

“Oh oh, Sherlock, it isn't, is it!” She gasped clasping her hands together. Sherlock stopped momentarily, but went on to finish. Once he was done he put the instrument away.

 

Without turning around he inquired seemingly perplexed, “What?” Eurus eyes went from a shine to a realization.

 

“You don’t know, or don't realize. Oh, oh dear Sherlock.” She sighed tapping on her chest.

 

Sherlock turned around and sat on the ground, “What in the graves are you talking of Eurus.”

 

Eurus mouthed a few letters, not wanting to make it too obvious. Then she fogged up a small area of the glass and drew a small heart.

 

“I- you what?” Sherlock laughed, “Preposterous.” 

 

“Is it that girl from the lab? Oh no or is it Mr.Sheriff, wait wait no no no…” She stopped and looked about as if the hints were in that room. “Is it the soldier nurse-”

 

“Doctor,” Sherlock corrected, but did nothing to deny this. Eurus simply smiled.

 

“You do that you know.” She said laying on her bed.

 

“What?” Sherlock responded defensively.

 

“You, correct people. Always have, but you also tend to deny something. But youre not-” 

 

“I’m not defending it cause if I did you’d just make it a point to tease me ‘why getting so defensive sherlock.’ Listen close, he’s not gay.” He says as if to chastise both her and himself.

 

“Oh?” She simply responded, “How about bi? Never said anything about that did he?” She said a small smile slipping onto her face.

 

Sherlock opened his mouth. Then shut it… that question never came across. Of all the little details he could get off of anyone, sexuality was hardly one of them, it wasn’t physical. It was purely chemical… or that’s what everything he ever studied seemed to believe. As well as most scientists. And he did enjoy his scientific experiments. 

 

“Alright alright, it was good to see you Eurus, say, does next thursday work for you?” He asked.

 

“Thursday? Not sure, I have a bit on my plate… fine fine. Thursday then.” She laid back down on her bed and hummed the song sherlock had played on his violin.

 

Sherlock grabbed his case, went to the door and gave it a firm knock, “Thursday my Dear Eurus.” 

 

[end scene]

 

John placed down the newspaper he had in his hands and stretched in his chair. Then he looked around for a few moments. Deciding to pick up the paper again, reread a few sections. Nothing really stood out too much, nothing except the agonizing ticking of the clock on sherlocks desk. 

 

There was a short buzz of the doorbell. Watson shot up and looked around the room. Sherlock still hasn't arrived. 

 

A woman wearing a long sleeved shirt, pants with unbearable holes and what looked like a series of bruises covering hands, knuckles, part of her chin.

 

“Are you, Doctor Watson?” she asked seemingly unable to stand up.

 

Watson helped her quickly into the chair answering along the way, “I am, and you?” 

 

“A client, hopefully… and Sherlock?” She asked.

 

“Out, I thought he said it was an off day…” he murmured more to himself.

 

“This has to be handled today.” She said beginning to shake.

 

“Oh-okay okay well, tell me your story, what's happened. From the beginning.”

 

“I woke up- like any other day but…” she took a deep breath and gripped onto the chair she was sitting on.

 

    “In that brief moment the room was darker than usual, there were bullet holes in the wall as I shot up. Way to quickly for my liking. This was not my room, or any room a living person would be in. It was a factory, a running one but a void of people. I quietly worked my way around the machinery, seeming to grind up something, meat maybe, I don't know if it was far too dark. The one thing I remember was someone calling themselves The Ripper. There was graffiti inside, imagery of rotting corpses, but just in front of it, as if it was on display was a body. A body, it- was mutilated even their throat was cut.”

 

“That’s all I can remember clearly,” she finished. 

 

“What about the bruises?” Watson asked.

 

“The- oh those. I am not sure, I think I managed to get away… I fractured my foot at some point… I am a practicing nurse so I sorted what I could, but I had to bring this to someone; capable?.” She said wrapping her arms around herself.

 

“Why not take this to the police?” Watson questioned.

 

“Because, I don’t know who it was. I don’t remember anything beyond being at home. The persons name, face, voice. Nothing. He said I owed it, i I don't owe them a damn thing…” the girl began shaking.

 

“Alright, alright give me a moment.” Watson walked into the kitchen and quickly dialed sherlock.

 

“Sherlock, where are you- hello?” Watson said.

 

“I’m at the harbor. There’s a storm advisory apparently. Looks like mostly in this area on watch. What is it?” Sherlock asked looking at the clouds rolling around the sky.

 

“It’s, a case. If you can't get here that is going to be a big problem.” Watson replied anxiously.

 

“A case, oh good fun, why is it a problem?” he asked.

 

“Well one, the client says she needs our help now.” He answered.

 

“Now as in now and not now as in when I get there?”

 

“SHERLOCK- no can you do this through a call or something, I can’t take on this case alone.” Watson muttered through the receiver.

 

“Oh come on, you've worked on these cases with me for four years now, some of that logical reasoning and deduction should of embedded itself into you brain by now. I can try to help as much as I can but if the client as you say needs our help today you'll have to begin this one yourself.” Sherlock responded.

 

“No- I can’t, sherlock- sherlock.” Watson shut the phone and imagined punching that high cheeked bastard where he stood. “Ugh you can't-” He let out a defeated sigh and walked back into the room.

 

“We will take your case. Any information if you remember or can provide just tell me, but firstly, do you remember where this factor is?” Watson asked grabbing his coat, his phone and the hat. Nah opt out of that actually, he tossed the hat back onto the desk. 

 

“I do, I think,” The women replied getting up and shuffling to the door.

 

“Right off we go Mrs?”

 

“Ms.Hull, after you sir.” She answered following behind watson and telling him as much as she knew about the place and the directions she went. Sadly they went by foot. According to her she came to them on foot so retracing it back would be much much easier that way.