jumpthegun | IC Inbox (v1.0)

No. You're using different logic. It should be the same for you and anyone else you're with. I'm willing to risk seventy percent.

It is not the same. Gabriel was not the instigator of the experiment and was in a different location - centrally in the morgue - specifically to attract any anomalies. Our deaths were not equal, our revival rates similarly so.

It is irrelevant, John, the experiment is done.

Besides, I told you I would come back.

Yes, you've said that. And I've said it doesn't matter.

You know I'd put myself on the line. I don't care how valuable you think I am. It's my life. I get to decide what to do with it if you get to decide what to do with yours.

[Wait, he said that?

He said what?

Sherlock frowns at the tablet and scrolls up to read the conversation over, concern growing in him when he realises that he doesn't recall sending most of these messages already. John's response is going ignored as Sherlock flicks through other messages for the day, finding a conversation with Davesprite he'd already forgotten too.]

Turn on your audio, John.

[That's ominous. John does as asked, immediately. He'll save raging at Sherlock until he knows what's going on.]

I'm here. What's wrong?

[He switches to audio too. It's not his favoured medium by far, but it's far harder to go back and check a spoken conversation than scroll through text. His voice is tight and worried.]

Give me a phrase to recall, any phrase. Wait thirty seconds, ask me to repeat it.

[The most basic of memory exercises. Even children could do this.]

Vatican cameos. [Danger. High alert.]

What's this about, then?

[Good phrase. Apt.]

Shush, John. Don't say anything until you ask me to repeat it.

[He will concentrate. This cannot be what he fears it is.]

[John pulls a face and just watches the clock on his tablet. At thirty seconds, he speaks up again.]

What was the phrase, Sherlock?

[Something strange has happened over the last thirty seconds.

But he has no idea what it is. He doesn't even know why he feels a vague sense of disquiet, as if there's something he ought to be afraid of that he can't quite put his finger on. The message from John surprises him, pulls him out of his reverie.

It also confuses him completely.

He replies in text. It's what he prefers, John should know that by now.]

What phrase? What are you talking about? It doesn't matter, I'm glad you're here. I was about to contact you to tell you I'd returned, but it seems you're ahead of me for once.

[If this is a joke, this is a horrifying joke. John's eye widens.]

Sherlock, check the last few messages we've sent to one another. Something is very wrong with your memory.

[His first reaction is to scoff and roll his eyes. Of course there's nothing wrong with his memory, it's always perfect. That's what the mind palace is for, it holds every piece of important information until he needs it. If things get deleted, it's always purposeful because they're boring or irrelevant.

But his actual memory? It's superb, it's one of the reasons he's such a good detective.

It's unlike John, though, to make a flippant remark at a time like this. So he does what he likely would not for anyone else, and obeys without questioning it. What he finds sends panic flooding abruptly through him like a tsunami. He can see the repeat, he can follow his own thought process on the screen to test his theory, and yet he remembers none of it.

It sends him into a genuine tailspin. If he can't remember, then he can't deduce, if he can't deduce then he is nothing.

He can't deny the evidence, it's there in front of him presented by the only person he would ever trust completely in matters of deduction. Himself. His fingers are shaking so badly that the messages he sends end up riddled with mistakes and he doesn't even care.]

Memort compromides. Help. Help. Help. Hel;

Sherlock. Hey. Turn on your video and just breathe, okay? You did this for me. Just breathe. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. This is temporary. This is entirely temporary.

[He doesn't even think to argue, for once.

The video clicks on to show that Sherlock has come to a dead stop in the middle of the snow. His face, what's visible of it above his scarf, is stained with tears already. The image is shaking like mad because his hands are trembling so badly.]

John, my mind-- they took my mind! No-- No, nobody can take my mind, I just have to think harder. Give me another phrase, do it. Do it again.

[John feels tears pricking at his own eye. The only other time he's seen Sherlock this emotional bad been... well. The hound and the fall. And when they'd met up the first time. His heart goes out to his best friend, knowing how horrifying this must be for him. Sherlock's mind is the thing he cherishes most. John wishes he could be there now. Video is as close as it gets, and he's going to have to hope Alfie and the rest are asleep because this is a bit loud.]

The Fall of the Reichenbach.

[John watches Sherlock closely on the video, trying to look for any signs the memory is disappearing.]

[Good.

A strong phrase, a pivotal memory, though the flash of recognition in his eyes is wary. Why would John pick that in particular? No. No, it doesn't matter right now, all that matters is recalling the phrase for thirty seconds.

He closes his eyes, and John will just get a shaking view of Sherlock's lips moving silently, repeating the phrase over and over. For about ten seconds. Then everything begins to change in small and subtle ways. The words he forms are just The Fall after that, then just Fall, then nothing. His lips tremble, but his tears dry up.

By about twenty five seconds the video feed has stopped shaking and he opens his eyes himself, looking genuinely surprised to see John on the other end of the video.]

Your eye looks red, is it infected?

Oh, Sherlock... [John pinches the bridge of his nose before wiping a few stray tears from his eye.] Have you got a pen? Anything to write with? I want you to write on your hand or anywhere that you'll see it easily--paint it on the edge of your bloody tablet if you have to:

'Read the full conversation before replying.'

You're gonna be flipping out for the next however long this lasts if you don't.

Edited 2016-12-27 22:33 (UTC)

What are you talking about?

[He's starting to look a little irritated now.]

Are you crying? [He tuts. Crying means someone close to him, not Sherlock. Means Barnes or Solomons, two people he's made sure he's aware of. Likely the latter, the former seems to have gone off grid.] If he doesn't respect you now, he never will. Move on.

What? [John pulls up short because he has no idea what leap of logic Sherlock just made there or who he's even talking about.]

Solomons, you've had an argument with him.

[This is what they've been talking about all along, isn't it?]

It's obvious.

That's not... how the hell do you know anything about that? It's not obvious to most-

Never mind.

This isn't about Alfie, Sherlock. It's about you. And the fact your death price is turning into that bloody blue fish from "Finding Nemo."

[He doesn't have a death price. It's a valuable piece of information, it makes the experiment not a total loss, that the eye application could at least stave off that much. He rolls his eyes, it's obvious he thinks John is just trying to deflect.]

You must have argued recently.

[His voice turns more musing, working things out bit by bit.]

Unlikely to be over food or other supplies. Either he has done something you consider reprehensible, or you have done something he considers so. You will bend on most things, it's a habit left over from childhood to placate a situation and try to, fruitlessly, appease everyone around you. So it's something even you won't bend on. He has killed someone-- No, that makes no sense, he isn't a senseless murderer. Gang leader, perhaps; psychopath, no. There aren't many people here deserving of being killed so--

[Of course, it's been staring him in the face. Hadn't they just had the Joker in their custody? The one person most people want to see gone, and someone both Alfie and John have a hatred for thanks to the woman dead before he got here. Finley, or something like that.]

He wanted you to kill the Joker. Revenge killings aren't really your style, John.

You're making a good argument for them at the moment, Sherlock. [John grits his teeth. The fact that Sherlock can cut straight to the heart of things is amazing, per usual. But God that's not the thing to focus on right-]

I'm dealing with it. I don't need you to weigh in on how I deal with my friends. Thanks. And I'm not... I've already told him what I won't do. That's still not what this is about.

Former friend. You're obviously not dealing with it.

[He's got the bit between his teeth now, he's not letting go yet.]

Slumped shoulders, defensive posture, obvious preoccupation with an unresolved feeling of guilt.

Did it ever occur to you that I've got a lot of unresolved guilt about you? [Now that is proper deflection.]

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