PARA/DOX

Never Disappoint a Holmes

Sherlock waited on the other side of the computer, tapping his fingers against his arm as he watched the lighting change against the Doctor's face. The curtains were drawn across the large window, casting the apartment in darkness that was interrupted only by the glowing orange light which was attached to the squeaking fan. It was not too difficult to tell when the flash drive's contents popped up just by the sudden illumination of John's face. His eyes squinted, his face slacked. He stared at the computer for a moment, as if he was trying to determine what exactly was expected of him. It was only then that Sherlock remembered that the device was password protected. This would be the final test, would it not? If John Watson really was intended to have this information he would be the only one to be able to access it. For a moment the doctor thought, before at last he typed in a couple of keys upon the keyboard, pressing his fingers apprehensively into the buttons. For a moment he breathed, in fact he breathed for the two of them as Sherlock had long since begun to hold his lips shut in anticipation. John Watson pressed enter, and suddenly the screen turned white again. White, with a beep of success.
"My God." John muttered.
"What was it, what was the password?" Sherlock asked excitedly. John looked up at him, staring through the dull lighting as if he was trying to tell what exactly he was dealing with. Perhaps he was starting to doubt if this was a boy or a cyborg standing before him.
"My high school locker combination." John admitted. "It knew...somehow..."
"He said it was only meant for you." Sherlock agreed, coming around the counter without due permission. Nonetheless, John didn't stop him. Sherlock couldn't make much of the information; in fact all that was displaying was a page displaying the different folders that had been archived. Some of them were more telling, labeled things such as 'time travel' and 'DNA'. Others were more obscure, with numbers and letters to symbolize the importance of the folder. The one which sparked Sherlock's interest the most was a folder labeled in his own name, 'Sherlock Holmes'.
"It's research, years of research. But this is impossible." John announced, the mouse hovering over the date of the latest entry into the folder. Sherlock wondered how the computer could even process such a number, it being forty years in the future from where they currently stood.
"I told you. Time travel." Sherlock announced. "Click on my name."
"No, no. I'm not going to look into this anymore. We need to tell Doctor Moriarty, if this is anything so important..."
"No!" Sherlock exclaimed, pushing the Doctor away from the laptop long enough to yank the flash drive from the port and back safely into his hands. "If you're not going to follow my instructions then I'll do it myself! I won't let you involve him, he's foul!"
"I'm not defending his character, I'm defending his position! He's the head of the project; he can't just be kept out of it!" John whined. The computer also blinked its protest, though Sherlock imagined this was because he hadn't properly ejected the external hardware.
"He can and he will be kept out of it. I don't trust him as far as I could spit, he killed my brother and he'll kill me too. Not if you can help it." Sherlock insisted. "But if not..." the boy dropped the flash drive to the carpet, allowing it to settle within its chosen fibers before he raised his foot warningly above.
"If you won't help me, and me alone, I'll crush it. And we'll have to wait another forty years before we get anywhere." Sherlock warned. John pushed his fingers against his cheeks, cowering into the corner of the counter and sliding anxiously down onto the floor. He gave a low wail of protest, as if he couldn't determine what his main priorities were going to be. Loyalty or discovery? Sherlock's foot was wavering; he was slowly but surely losing his balance. He didn't intend to break the flash drive unless he had to, though he may fall over and accidentally bring his weight down if John didn't hurry with his decision.
"Alright...alright!" John exclaimed, holding his head in his hands as he trembled with the effort of declaring treachery. "I'll help you."
"Thank you." Sherlock muttered, jumping at least a foot away from the precious device so as to ensure its safety. Once again it had become the most valuable thing in the room, perhaps even more so than Sherlock himself.
"I'll...I'll look it over. If I can do the science myself I'll dedicate my life to it." John pledged in a trembling voice, trying to keep himself steady all the while he was looking quite pathetic upon the tile floors.
"You cannot let anyone else know, not until it's finished." Sherlock begged. "I was told that you were the only one I can trust within that agency. I want it to stay that way."
"I'll do what I can." John promised. Sherlock smiled, stooping over onto the carpet to retrieve the flash drive he had dropped. The Doctor got shakily to his feet, anchoring himself by his palms and rising to meet Sherlock as close to eye level as he could.
"Keep me informed, Doctor Watson." Sherlock insisted, his eyes narrowing as he slid the flash drive over the counter to be received by its designated master. John nodded, turning the thing over in his hands a couple of times as if to properly fathom its importance.
"I uh...I'd never be so bold as to disappoint a Holmes."