How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 61

(Alice’s POV: )

 A few minutes after the lights disappeared, we heard a vicious howling that was very close. My stomach tightened.

 “Did you hear that?” John asked. As soon as he did, Sherlock stormed straight past him. We turned and followed, John moving next to Sherlock and Henry next to me.

 “We saw it. We saw it.” Henry announced, sounding very panicky.

 “No. I didn’t see anything.” Sherlock said firmly.

 “What? What are you talking about?” Henry questioned, moving up to the other side of the detective.

 “I didn’t. See. Anything.” He repeated. He hurried onwards with Henry, John and I still trailing along behind him. My gut felt worse. I hadn’t experienced fear in such a long time; my body was physically reacting negatively to it.

 Some time later at Henry’s house, Henry, John and I hurried indoors. Sherlock had disappeared off elsewhere a bit ago.

 “Look, he must have seen it. I saw it – he must have. He must have. I can’t... Why? Why?” He stuttered, sounding desperate. He stopped in the doorway of the sitting room, turning back to John, who was next to me, in anguish. I felt like I was going to throw up, and had a hand on my stomach and was bent over a bit. “Why would he say that? It-it-it-it it was there. It was.” He insisted. Taking his gloves off, John ushered him across to the sofa, but I was frozen in my spot.

“Henry, Henry, I need you to sit down, try and relax, please.” John urged. Henry looked to me, appearing like a lost child.

 “You know he did. You-you can tell- you know him! Was he lying?” He asked. I began to answer but my stomach got a sharp pain delivered, and John made Henry look back to him.

 “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Henry confirmed, sitting on the sofa.

 “Listen, I’m gonna give you something to help you sleep, all right?” John told him cautiously. He looked around the room and saw a bottle of water on a bureau nearby. I stumbled over to Henry, crashing down next to him, as he was the nearest seat. He looked at me, still with the questioning look.  I shook my head, and he looked ahead of himself, unwrapping his scarf from his neck and smiling.

“This is good news, John. It’s-it’s-it’s good. I’m not crazy. There is a hound, there... there is. And Sherlock – he saw it too. No matter what he said, he saw it.” He said, more confident and sounding like he was reassuring himself more than anyone else.

 Much later, John and I went back to the inn. The pain had subsided a bit, and I was hiding it for fear of John becoming protective.

Sherlock was back at the inn, sitting in an armchair by a roaring open fire, his face was full of shock and disbelief. Unaware of his distress, other patrons sat at tables nearby having their evening meal. John and I came in, and as John sat down in the armchair on the other side of the fire, I ordered a pint. I watched them while I was waiting.

 “Well, he is in a pretty bad way. He’s manic, totally convinced there’s some mutant super-dog roaming the moors.” John began. With his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth, Sherlock glanced nervously at John for a moment, seemed to look around for me, then continued to gaze in the direction of the fire, lost in thought. “And there isn’t, though, is there? ’Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we’d know.” John continued, looking for confirmation. Sherlock clasped his fingers together, closing his eyes and breathing heavily as if trying to fend off a panic attack, which I had a feeling that he was. The bloke behind the counter gave me my pint and I hurried over to the two, sitting down on a footrest just to the right of John. Sherlock quickly glanced at me, his eyes softening a bit when he did, and I almost smiled back but the fear in his eyes made my stomach act up again. “They’d be for sale. I mean, that’s how it works.” John continued, beginning to sound doubtful. I took a large gulp of the beer and felt it land in my stomach, slightly numbing the sharp pains there.