The Puppeteers (Mycroft Holmes)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11 - Stockholm

The timestamp on the video was just two days after Sherlock was taken. Havi went through it, reporting that the box was a sensory and sleep deprivation chamber. Everytime Sherlock seemed to fall asleep, a bright light and loud noise jolted him. He would thrash in the water, sinking below the surface and coming up gasping to try shouting again but of course it was all to no avail. It was probably soundproofed and the fact that be was floating just added to his sense of being completely cut off. Hallucinations were likely to start in a few hours.

The link was traced back to Stockholm, Sweden, just as the message had indicated. It wasn't until the camera cut out for an hour and came back with the timestamp registering as live that Mycroft made sense of it.

It was a joke. Sherlock had no chance of escape, and, as it became evident once the lid was opened, his captors were both cruel and gentle - the perfect formula for the worst scenario.

Sherlock was screaming against the tape when the feed turned live. He was arching and writhing in the water, eyes wild. Two days in the chamber and the hallucinations were in full swing.

Despite the water that had no doubt gone cold and numbed his limbs, beads of sweat were washed away as he thrashed. They had added heat to the stimulus.

The chamber door was wrenched open and Sherlock was dragged out by a man's hands. Another camera was connected to the feed but kept so that only Sherlock could be seen. While he was probably still adjusting to the light, a blindfold was wrapped around his eyes. He bucked away from the hands but a punishing fist was delivered to his abdomen and he quieted. They stripped his clothes off and began drying him when a woman's voice intervened. The camera was shifted slightly, indicating someone was behind it. She stroked his hair and rubbed feeling back into his hands and arms and he leaned into her desperately, starved for sensation. She murmured to him and a cloth was handed to her with a bucket. Sherlock was made to sit on the edge of the chamber.

She wrung the cloth out and quickly, efficiently washed his excrement away.

The woman dried Sherlock off gently, murmuring to him as he shivered. She draped him in a blanket. He shivered silently.

She waited for only a moment before helping Sherlock into some clothes. He moved obligingly but made no efforts to help. His limbs were probably just coming out of numb shock. She wrapped her arms around him, allowing the camera a look at her upper body but her face remained carefully hidden. Sherlock buried his face in her chest.

Watching his brother's control slip and his desperate desires for some sort of contact be used against him, Mycroft went cold.

She rubbed Sherlock’s back and carded her hands through his hair before motioning to someone. Rough hands pulled Sherlock away and he cried out against the tape. The woman cupped his cheek gently but didn't help him. Chains were latched around his wrists and then connected to posts. His arms were outstretched and his body slumped as he tried to get control over his numb feet. The tape was ripped off.

His chin was raised by the crook of a finger and a gentle voice asked him a question. He lunged, trying to pull out of the restraints. A metal pipe swung into view and smacked into his ribs. He cried out and slumped. The woman's hand touched the spot on his abdomen gently and she tsked.

The question was asked again but too quietly to come in clearly on the camera. Sherlock shook his head. He was hit again. The interrogation continued for hours. Mycroft was forced to close the feed and return to work.

When he opened the feed again, the pipe was swinging towards Sherlock. Mycroft cringed but a hand shot out to catch the pipe. The woman's hands returned to stroking Sherlock's face. Her voice was soft. Sherlock had taken a beating to the face sometime in the interim and she pressed a cold cloth to the bleeding cuts now. She cleaned his face and helped him drink some water. He slumped against her and she held him tightly. The men unchained him and Sherlock fell to his knees. She let him bury his face in her stomach and continued to run her hands through his curls.