Sherlock meets The Flash and Arrow

Chapter 30

John

Caitlin starts crying quietly through the mic in my ear. Sherlock looks...flummoxed. "What? What did I say?"

She hiccups. "Cisco was so much like..." She trails off, but pulls herself together. "Like Reverb."

I can hear Felicity comforting her. It doesn't seem to be helping much. Caitlin says, quietly, "He never wanted to be evil. This could kill him."

Then Barry's voice crackles through the mic. "It just might. He wouldn't talk to me, but he showed me pictures. Awful comparisons of him and Reverb. Of what Reverb did to me and of what he did to Sherlock. If he wallows in that too much...He might never get over it."

I sigh. "I'd recommend that Sherlock talks to Cisco, but somehow I think that'd make it worse."

For once, Sherlock looks baffled. "Why would you even consider having me talk to him?"

"You could...comfort him. Show that you forgive him. That you're not harmed. Say that you're not holding it against him; that you understand why he did what he did. He'll believe it when it comes from you."

Sherlock still looks baffled. "But I'd be lying. I am harmed. I can't even stand up right now."

I groan. "And that is why you're not going to be talking to him."

"What? What did I do? I thought all of your morals said not to lie."

"Cisco doesn't need morals, he needs—"

Felicity's voice rings clearly through the mic. "He needs the truth. Sherlock, you'll be fine. You of all people know that. But Cisco doesn't. The fact that he hurt you is tearing him apart right now. More than anything, he needs to know that you're okay with what he did. That you don't hate him for it. That you forgive him."

Oliver

Sherlock breathes in and sighs. "I guess I can only say I'll try my best."

John smiles. "I'll come with you. As long as you don't commit any social faux pas, we'll be fine."

Sherlock sighs. "I wouldn't hold out too much hope."

Cisco

I hate myself right now.

I mean, it's probably pretty common.

John must hate me. I tried to kill his best friend. Sherlock must hate me. I tried to kill him.

I saw the look of horror on Barry's face. The way that Diggle stayed away from me. How Oliver looked so shocked.

My tech's better than any of theirs. I had a link to the Cortex mic. They didn't even know it was there.

I heard Caitlin's gasp. Felicity's squeak.

They trusted me.

I betrayed that trust.

Behind me, someone knocks on the door. I ignore them. They keep knocking.

Then I hear a voice, smooth, and entirely devoid of the anger I expected. "Contrary to what everyone around here seems to believe, I am not actually a superhero. I cannot get through this door without a plasma torch."

Then another, rougher voice adds, "Actually, I seriously doubt that's true."

Sherlock sighs. "Alright, fine. I could probably get through here in about a minute. But in respect for your societal construct of privacy, I won't."

A tiny smile breaks on my face. "Actually, I kind of want to see this. The tech on that door is a higher grade than on Fort Knox."

"Fort Knox is such an American cliche. You sure you want me to do this? Isn't the polite thing to knock or something? Wait for you to let me in?"

John scoffs. "Since when do you care about polite?"

I smile slightly. "No, please. Try your best."

I hear the familiar sound of my chair sliding across the ground followed by fingers tapping my keyboard. It's oddly comforting. I say, a little louder, "You know that's password protected?"

Sherlock says, "In a manner of speaking."

Then John, sounding shocked, says, "You got in. In one try!"

I can hear Sherlock's smile. "I saw him put the password in. It may be protected and infallible, but humans certainly aren't." Then his voice goes solemn. "Cisco. Unfortunate choice of a password."

I groan. "Definitely."

John, confused, asks, "What do you mean?"

Sherlock replies, "His password...It's V183N0tR3v3r8."

John

Sherlock types a few things into the computer. With a flourish, he stands up and walks over to the door. He bends over and carefully examines it. "Pressure pad, voice sensor, iris scanner and thumbprint reader. Okay."

He paces back to the computer and types a few more things. Then he walks over to the door again, standing on the pressure pad. He looks directly at the eye scanner and puts his thumb on the reader. Carefully enunciating, he says, "I want to work on my tech."

The passphrase sounds so absurd on his lips, I start laughing.

The door doesn't open.

I can hear Cisco's smile as he talks. "Not as easy as it seems, is it?"

Sherlock, calmly replies, "I knew it wouldn't open."

I look at him. "Then why'd you do it?"

"Because I need to put an image of my iris, a record of my voice, an exact measurement of my weight, and a scan of my thumbprint into the database. I have no other devices with which to take those records, so I'm using this."

He walks back to the computer and clicks on a few things. Then he walks over to the door and repeats the same procedure again.

The door slides open.