The Question of Faith in Baskerville

Chapter Fourteen: Of Dogs and Battlefields

Henry traced his mum's face as he gazed at the final picture that held his happy childhood family all together. Remembering those short years of pure happiness.

He had taken John's advice. He ate a sandwich, even finished making the coffee Sherlock had started making. That woke him enough so that he could get a shower without staggering about. He even brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Finally, he dressed into some fresh, clean clothes. He actually felt a bit more like himself. Still weary to the bone and exhausted beyond belief, but definitely more human.

Now, he sat at a window looking into the conservatory, trying to fill his mind with happier times. Times when his mum would sing him gentle songs and his dad would tell stories of brave heroes of old. When Mum kept the conservatory in good repair and stocked with seemingly hundreds of flowers. Dad sharing some of his knowledge of nature and animals. Exploring the moors as a family. Finding a family of foxes. A nest of baby birds. Tumbling into bed happily as Mum tucked him in and sang a final lullaby.

Snarling! Red eyes! Ripping teeth! Demon!

Henry screamed, jolting back to the nightmarish present. His chest heaved as he fought the terror down. "Oh, God!" he wailed. "If You are real, end this! Please! End this!" Clutching his head, he curled into a frightened ball.

It wouldn't be until hours later that he would see the glass shattered from the picture frame at his feet. But the cruel parallel would not be lost.

John breathed deeply, letting his senses take in everything as he went down. He smiled a bit. So, the key to top sensors was to keep Darkness away, to keep nothing between him and God. Little wonder then that he'd had such problems yesterday.

He looked at the text Sherlock sent. Okay, keep an eye out for Heartless. He closed his eyes as the lift drifted to a stop. Nothing on this level, but something a little farther down? He looked to see that Molly had texted as well. He added, "I don't sense anything on the -1 level. But I think something further down."

"Thanks for the tip," Molly sent. "Corporal Lyons is acting as my escort. One or both of you should be informed if help is needed."

John briefly nodded, setting that aside. They each had their mission. Even if he frankly had no idea what Sherlock was doing once he was done with Major Barrymore. He exited the lift, seeing some of the scientists leaving through another door. The last one out turned off the lights.

John sighed. Well, at least the room wasn't blindingly white anymore. He decided to look under the drop clothes that went to the center of the room. More likely than not, they were the cages he noticed yesterday. But better to be sure and aware of what was currently being housed there.

"Okay, count the cages," he muttered. He flipped back the sheet for the first. "One: empty." He dropped the sheet down again. "Two." Another flap of material. "Empty but door open." He hesitated before leaving it as it was. On the off chance he ran into something dangerous, he wanted to make sure he had a safe place should his card not work. "Three."

An animalistic shriek made John jump back. The monkey rattled its cage.

John blew out a breath. "Housing one monkey." He shook himself as he moved to the last cage. "Fourth and final," he said. He paused. Was that door ajar? His gut twisted as he saw the bottom corner. Something had at least been attempting to force its way out. He sent a text to Sherlock. "Any recent records of an animal escaping its cage in the first lab?"

He cast a cursory glance over the lab. The scientists hadn't been in a panic. No alarms had been raised. It must have been something left over from this morning. They just hadn't replaced the cage.