How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 67

(Alice’s POV: )

Sherlock, John and I raced across the terrain in the Land Rover towards Dewar’s Hollow. After a very short, fast drive, Sherlock pulled up where the woods begin and we got out and continued on foot.  We ran as fast as we could in the woods, and we got there just in time to see Henry bringing a pistol up and opening his mouth as he aims the muzzle towards it.

“No, Henry, no! No!” Sherlock shouted, all three of us scrambling down the slope, shining our torches at him as fast as we could. Henry stood up and stumbled backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in their direction. His voice was high-pitched and hysterical.

“Get back. Get – get away from me!” He cried.

“Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax.” John said calmly.

“I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!” Henry shouted.

“Just put the gun down. It’s okay.” I said, trying to not aim my own gun at him.

“No, no, I know what I am!” He argued, his voice hoarse with anguish as he looked to me.

“Yes, I’m sure you do, Henry. It’s all been explained to you, hasn’t it – explained very carefully.” Sherlock said, probably sounding as reassuring as I’d ever hear him.

“What?” Henry asked.

“Someone needed to keep you quiet; needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you’d both clung on to, because you had started to remember.” I said, trying to sound my best like Sherlock had. Sherlock began to step closer to the young man.

“Remember now, Henry. You’ve got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy.” Sherlock said calmly. Henry’s gun hand began to droop momentarily as his eyes flickered to me, but then he raised it again, his face full of his struggle to understand.

“I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought...” He said, his voice shaky. He lost control and began to scream in anguish. “Oh je... oh je*** I don’t – I don’t know any more!” He screamed. Sobbing, he bent forward and aimed the muzzle into his mouth again.

“No, Henry!” I shouted.

“Henry, for g*d’s sake!” John cried, lunging towards the poor man.

“Henry, remember. ‘Liberty In.’ Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago.” Sherlock encouraged. Henry began to calm a little but still remained hunched over with the gun’s muzzle against his mouth. “You’d started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn’t an animal, was it, Henry?” Henry started to straighten up, blinking.

“Not a monster.” I said, stepping closer. Henry turned to look at me. “A man.” Henry’s eyes widened as the memories began to come. After several moments Henry gaped at me as the truth reasserted itself in his mind.