Sherlock: The Human Robot

5 - It's All a Mess

It was busier in 221B now that Mrs. Hudson was away. The flat floated way more than usual, and that was just after one day. Papers all over the floor, couch and tables. Sherlock was still trying to solve the puzzle on who is behind this. Of course he did. He doesn't like not knowing, and to be honest, neither of you did.

Sherlock could really get to your nerves – wait, that's what he usually does – but in times like this it was just a pain to watch him. He eats less than he does in other times, doesn't sleep at all, maybe one or two hours but that's it. His mind is spinning like never before and he's all over the place. He doesn't sit down in his chair for more than a minute at time. He's desperate to get these people.

As you were sitting in a café, having a coffee, you tried to deduce the people around you. You could say that after hanging with Sherlock for some years, you had caught up with some of his skills, or at least tried to do so. A couple sat across you. They talked together, about something serious it seemed. The woman looked sad and didn't want to look the man in the eyes. You looked away, knowing that starring at people wasn't nice. Instead you turned to your right just to see a man coming in the door and walked up to the lady behind the desk. His hair was brown, and it matched his brown leather jacket. As he turned around after getting his order, you could see that his eyes were blue, and that he also had some nice cheekbones, but they didn't overcome Sherlock's. As your eyes studied him further down, you saw that he didn't have a ring on his finger so he wasn't married, and he was young. Around Sherlock's age, perhaps two or three years older.

"Enjoying the view?" you heard someone ask. You quickly raised your head to see that the man stood in front of you. "Ehm... I'm sorry, didn't mean to stare at you like that," you tried to excuse yourself. "That's okay, I don't mind," he said with a smirk on his face. From his accent you could tell he was British. "May I sit down," he asked and pointed at the empty chair above you. "Sure, yes."
The man sat down, followed by some silence. You weren't really good talking to strangers. For all means, this guy could be one of those who are after you.

"So, may I ask what your name is?" The man took a sip from his coffee. Oh no. Should I tell him? If he is after me, then he probably already knows my name. "I'm Charlotte," you lied. The man smiled to you, "It's nice to meet you, Charlotte. My name is Tony. Tony Hawk," he replied. After the introduction, you started a conversation and somehow Sherlock became the subject.

"Have you heard about the famous detective who came back from the dead? Or, he wasn't actually dead because no man can literally come back from the dead," he chuckled. "What's his name again, something rare... Ehm... Holmes isn't it?" he looked questioning at you but you weren't sure how to respond. You didn't want to leak more than you needed about Sherlock. "Yes, I've heard about him," you finally said. "He's a real mystery. People say he isn't even human because he doesn't care about anyone except himself and having this reputation they say he's gone mad," he leaned over the table and whispered. You squeezed so hard around the coffee cup in frustration that your knuckles started to become white. "Are you alright?" Tony asked you when he noticed your expression. You slowly let go of the cup and tried to stay calm. "Yes, of course," you forced yourself to say and smile.

After talking with Tony for some more minutes, he excused himself and told you he had to be somewhere. You didn't think more about it so you decided to give a call to John to hear what they're up to. John answered that he and Mary was at Sherlock's place, and that he was literally a mess.
"Oh, God," you said to John's message.

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"Have you talked to Lestrade?" John asked Sherlock as he watched the detective who was clearly looking for something. "Haven't got time for that, John."
"Mycroft?" John tried but Sherlock only waved the question out in the air. "Sherlock, he could send out some people to look for them. And, he could probably keep us under protection."
Nothing seemed to work to get Sherlock's attention away from his work so John just gave up. He knew it was hopeless anyway.
"I think John's right about this, Sherlock," you supported John. "If we are in danger, it's possible Lestrade might be too," you said.
"So you can go and talk to him then," Sherlock responded to us, still running around in the flat. You, Mary and John looked at each other.
"Y/N and I can go then. Mary, stay here and watch over him in case something happens," John spoke in a low voice. "Yeah, sure. Go," she told us and so we left to pay a visit to Scotland Yard.

When you and John entered Scotland Yard police station, Donovan came in your direction and greeted you. From the look on her face, she seemed a bit out of focus. "Hello, the freak isn't with you today?"
You and John sent a look to each other and you saw he wasn't less pleased with her comment than you were. "No, he's working," John explained to her. "We're here to speak to Lestrade," he continued. Donovan looked down on the floor before looking at us again.
"You haven't heard?" she asked. You both looked at her and started to get worried. "Heard what exactly?" you asked her. She took a deep breath before she spoke.
"Lestrade is at the hospital. He has been in an accident..."

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You phoned Sherlock and told him to come down to the station. Soon after he arrived and you told him what happened. Mary had come along as well. "He was driving on his way here, when another car crashed right into his. They say he'll be alright, but he's badly injured. There wasn't any trace of the other driver nor was there any blood in the car."
Sherlock looked to his right to see Anderson coming our way, looking at some papers.

"Where's the evidence from the accident?" Sherlock interrupted him, as he clearly didn't see us, as he was too busy reading whatever stood on that piece of paper. Anderson looked up at us. "Oh, so you're here. The evidence is just over there," he said and pointed the direction. We all started to walk, when Anderson stopped us by putting his hand in front of us.
"Don't touch anything," he said before letting us go.

On a table, there were several plastic bags with things in it, some covered in blood. Lestrade's jacket, his car keys, some files and more.
"Do they know what kind of car hit Lestrade? Or if they got the car number? That could lead us the driver," John said.
"That's not necessary," Sherlock answered. "They know we'd try to do that, they're not dumb."
"They? You know who did this?" Mary asked him. Sherlock didn't look at us. Instead, his eyes was fixed on something on the table; one of the plastic bags. You turned to look at it and your jaw dropped as you saw what it was. In that plastic bag, there was a white object – a white rook from the game of chess.