Disquiet

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Sherlock has been here about a month. He's more or less kept to himself, except when he's had to go out to get something to eat. It took about five days to settle in a bit and stop fighting the question if he was dreaming or not. He didn't like accepting that this wasn't a drug-induced high or that he was stuck in his mind palace. In the end, it helped that no one he recognised was here. After all, in his mind palace, there was always at least one person he knew.

But, it took that long because either of those options were preferable to the truth: he was in some weird alternate reality with no way home. Well, unless he found whatever door he had stumbled through to get here. And, he wasn't sure he wanted to go back. All that waited for him back there were recovery and facing the loss of Mary. Culverton Smith had been a fantastic distraction from the horror that it was his fault that Mary died. (Even if John told him it wasn't, he shouldn't have pushed Vivian.) It was a reality he didn't want to face. Yet, even here, the grief and guilt would sneak up on him.

It's why it was better to avoid people than be around them. Well, that, and the strange person who acted like she knew him so well and she didn't know him at all. That was... troubling. And he kept a look-out for her every time he did wander out. He hadn't decided what to make of her yet. So avoidance of that was the best possible answer. Still, he needed money. And while in theory, he understood the PIN devices, he wasn't sure they worked quite like the internet back home.

So, he's sitting on a bench in the plaza, next to a sign, which reads:
Sherlock Holmes,
the world's only consulting detective.

This is what I do:
1. I observe everything.
2. From that, I deduce everything.
3. Once I've eliminated the impossible,
whatever remains,
must be the truth.

But, that was really just attention seeking. He has a question of his own. So whenever anyone ventures close enough to read the sign, he allows for general introductions and eventually asks: "How do you live with yourself, if a vow you failed to keep led to the death of your friend?"

Comments

[somekindofspaceuncle]

It seems that Shiro is well and ready to leave.

He turns to do just that.

But then, he sighs forlornly, and just stops. Then, sits on the bench next to the 'quack'.

"I know I shouldn't have yelled at you. I used to be... not like this, trust me. Quiznak, I want to be the man I was. The Shiro I used to be. That's still me, I guess, because my whole memory isn't lying to me."

He readjusts his sitting, visibly uncomfortable.

Then, he tries to smile.

"Quiznak is Altean equivalent of shit, or something else impolite, by the way."

Because right now Shiro realises the detective here might've not left home, Earth, before.

"Fuck!"

Shiro says, with emphasis, slowly, experimentally. It sounds slightly strange, as if he might be not quite used to that word.

"Fuck, there I go, I DID hire you. I, I should pay you before I go. It's - it's what I'd do."

He sounds somewhat confused. He winces.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Sherlock doesn't face him. Doesn't move. Just lets the man continue on. He takes in all the information. There's a slight twitch of his lips when the man cusses. That's the most normal and soldier-like the man has sounded the entire time.

"While I'm finding that I need some form of financial support here, I have never charged a fee prior to the case being solved. And I have never charged for cases solved in less than an hour. This one will take more time, I think."

Sort of. To an extent, Sherlock believes he's solved it. But he doesn't know how to fix what he's solved. He misses John. John would know what the next step should be.

[somekindofspaceuncle]

"That's quiznaking kind of you. But I don't need mercy. I know-"

He frowns.

"I know - It's on me. Somehow, this is my fault."

It is.

"My fault for getting captured enough. My fault for not pressing, when... when I told Lance I'm not fine and Lance got frightened I'm not fine and blamed low oxygen levels to my face, and I agreed. And Lance agreed. Would Keith have agreed? I hope not."

Shiro shakes his head.

"I'm fine, honestly."

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Good thing Sherlock isn't the hitting type, or he might smack Shiro. "You're not fine. Far from it. I know 'not fine'. I fake fine all the time, when I'm not."

He purses his lips together. "Is there anyone from your universe here in the Nexus?"

[somekindofspaceuncle]

Shiro almost hums. Ah... "Princess Allura is here. Of Altea. One of leaders of Voltron coalition, of rebels against Galra. The new Blue Paladin, my teammate. I trust her with my life, so you can tell her."

"There's also prince Lotor, the newly chosen Emperor of the Galra Empire."

Ponders something quickly.

"I can call both, if you'd like. I usually keep an eye on Lotor. Always, practically."

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Sherlock shakes his head. "Not necessary. At least not for me. But I think you should talk to them. Tell them what you've told me. Tell them what I've told you. See what they say."

They're probably going to be more help than Sherlock if this man is possessed somehow or had another conscious or brain implanted into him.

[somekindofspaceuncle]

"I might tell Allura. She's my friend, almost family, I don't want to worry her, but I might."

Wince.

"I will. Thank you."

He trembles. His prostthetic arm lights up a little, then turns off again.

"It's too early today, I need to rationalise - to think of how to put it. Logically. The quiznaking princess can wait one day for a precious soldier, after all."

"Anyway, thanks, detective. You are not a quack."

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Sherlock nods once. "Come back after you talk with her. Bring her, if you think it will help. I would like to know the answer."

He means he wants confirmation if he's right.

[somekindofspaceuncle]

His jaw set, Shiro nods curtly. Awkwardly gives a salute, the one from old distant Shiro memories, from Earth's Galaxy Garrison, not from outer space.

And he leaves. He hasn't paid yet, one might notice, so he'll have to be back, someday, or so he feels.