ANARCHY [BBC Sherlock Fanfiction] [On Hold]

4

(Sera.)

Consciousness began to bleed its way into my mind when the wind started to heave, lashing strands of my salty, damp hair against my cheeks.

Damp.

I opened my eyes with a jolt, though I immediately regretted it when the cold glare of sunlight singed my vision. I clenched my eyes shut, rolling over, blue hues swimming across the back of my eyelids. I was lying on a wooden surface. Floor? No, it was slanted, curved upwards on both sides.

I blinked again, adjusting to the light.

Pushing myself up, my gaze fixing on a small video camera drilled into the lip of the vessel, its lens trained on me. Beyond that was ocean. Dull, grey ocean that stretched past the bank of fog. And at that moment, all I could do was remain, numbness seeping down my throat, traveling into my nervous system. The small boat rocked gently in the choppy water, mirroring the blossoming panic that was tumbling against my brain.

Eurus.

Bringing my hand up to my neck, I felt around for a pinprick scab, anything to confirm that I hadn't hallucinated Tim sedating me. I knew that Eurus knew people, the way they ticked. The doctors preceding me served as plain evidence, but I never imagined... This. An opportunity to orchestrate such a elaborate scheme should have been out of the question for a prisoner as heavily guarded as Eurus Holmes. But it couldn't have been anyone else.

I ran a hand through my hair, tangles catching my fingers as the stubborn strands were wrenched from the follicles.

She'd said something about stress before. And I'd said something back, what did I say? 'Situational pressures and tensions', I think. The stress of a physical setting... she was being clever. Not very original, but incredibly effective. If it hadn't been me she was using as her test subject, I might have appreciated the cleanliness of it further, but any rationality was now leaving me at an alarmingly steady rate.

The camera at the farther end of the boat, obviously waterproof, was a particularly grim flair. She'd mentioned stress. And now I was filling the role of  lab rat. What an ironic role reversal.

There were no chains slung over the side of the boat, and my stomach lurched at the realization. I leaned over the edge, swinging my legs around and crashing into the dark water. Hope was bad enough, but desperate hope was far worse. If there was an anchor attached to the bottom of the boat, it would mean I was close to land. If not, then I'd ultimately be screwed.

I reached under, my fingertips brushing the bottom of the tiny rowboat, which was slick with algae. Nothing.

I heaved myself back into the vessel with difficulty, nearly capsizing it. Right. So that was a smart move. Isn't it every woman's dream to spend a night soaked with sea water in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

I huddled into the side of the boat, removing my dripping clothes in an attempt to avoid hypothermia, and laying them flat against the bottom.

Eurus probably wouldn't go so far as to leave me here indefinitely, but I wouldn't put a few days past her.

I surveyed the small vessel, my search no longer specific. At this point, anything would do. It was completely bare. The workmanship of the actual structure wasn't great: there were a few blooms of rot marking the wood, but it was stable enough so as not to break apart. The camera was the only thing there, steadily blinking its red eye.