Family Matters

The Sherlocks grand house, an imposing structure even by the standards of the era, stood as a testament to wealth and status.

Its expansive grounds and towering façade would easily be considered a mansion by modern American standards.

Inside, the halls were adorned with opulent decorations, a blend of antique elegance and contemporary luxury.

Benjamin sat in the lavishly furnished living room, engrossed in his hobby, reading a book on how to meticulously restore a classic car.

Nearby, a young maid was dutifully wiping down the glass of the shelf, though her eyes kept straying to Benjamin.

She was not alone in her admiration; Benjamin was well aware of the effect he had on women, young and old alike. However, he remained indifferent, focused on his task.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall, announcing the arrival of his father.

Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and carrying a sleek briefcase, Schneider exuded an air of authority and control.

He entered the room with a purposeful stride.

"Benjamin," Schneider called upon seeing his son, his voice a blend of formality and concern. "How's it goin'?"

Benjamin ignored him, his attention firmly on the intricate details of the car's engine on the pages.

The maid, sensing the tension, quickly finished her task and excused herself, slipping out of the room as unobtrusively as possible.

Schneider watched her leave before turning his attention back to his son. "Looks like you're pretty tied up," he remarked, a hint of frustration in his voice. "But I got to have a word with you."

Benjamin finally looked up, his eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"What's your deal, Schneider?" Benjamin asked casually, his tone laced with indifference, calling his father by his first name.

Schneider paused for a moment, his expression stern. "Benjamin, I need to discuss something with you," he said firmly, stepping further into the room.

Benjamin rolled his eyes, setting down the book he had been flipping through.

"Can't it wait? I'm afraid I don't have the bandwidth for any conversation right now," he replied dismissively, gesturing vaguely around the room.

Schneider sighed, his frustration evident. "Benjamin, your behavior of late... it's raising some red flags," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Benjamin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Red flags? Please. I don't need you to worry about me," he retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

"you're entitled to your own opinion, buddy but others see it differently," Schneider replied, his tone softening slightly. "Listen, kid, your teachers and the staff have been filling me in on some disturbing stuff. Your attitude and behavior towards other…"

Benjamin shrugged nonchalantly. "So what? They don't know what it's like to be in my shoes," he muttered under his breath.

"Benjamin, I'm telling you, people care about you and they're worried sick. And I'm right there with them," Schneider said firmly, stepping closer to his son. "Benjamin, this attitude of yours, this disrespect towards others? It's gotta cease, right now."

Benjamin met his father's gaze, his own filled with defiance. "I don't need their approval. I'm a lone wolf, doing my own thing!," he snapped.

Schneider sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. Benjamin was just too tough a nut to crack. "Benjamin, you're part of this Sherlock family, and that means you've got obligations. Shape up, son! Y…."

Benjamin cut him off, standing abruptly. "Expectations? Like fitting into some predetermined mold? Not my scene" he exclaimed, his voice rising. "You can't manipulate me like a marionette. I'm a person with my own thoughts and feelings!"

Schneider held up a hand, trying to calm the rising tension. "Benjamin, slow down son. Hear me out," he said firmly, his voice steady.

"You're living a life that many others can only imagine, Benjamin. But with that comes a responsibility to be a good person, to show respect, and to stay humble...."

Benjamin turned away, pacing around the room. "Respect? Humility? Those are just words. What do they even mean in the real world?" he raised his voice, frustration evident in his voice.

Schneider approached him cautiously, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's about being aware of how your actions affect others, son. Having some empathy, some understanding," he explained gently.

"Tch!"

Benjamin's voice dripped with accusation as he said, "Yeah, let's talk about Mr. Jones while my life is still on fire."

His father's brow furrowed slightly in response. "Which Jones?"

"Barnaby Jones!"

Schneider shook his head, his eyes turning cold and steely. "Hey, trust me, you don't want to go digging up that old grave. It's best left buri..." He turned away, running a hand through his graying hair.

Benjamin's tone turned sharper, his face contorting with anger. "So, that's what this is about? Is that why you said I must be responsible for that kid? Because he's Jones' son? That's low, Dad!" He stepped closer, fists trembling at his sides.

"Stop, Benjamin, else I'd..." Schneider's hand twitched towards his pocket, where the vial of antidote lay hidden.

"You'd what? You'd withhold the antidote when I go berserk? Or you'd use my dead mother's memories against me and rub it in my face about how she'd have wanted me to get better?!" Benjamin's voice cracked, his eyes brimming with tears.

His father's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Hmm, so what? We should talk about a man you definitely sent to heaven? Did you forget, son?" Schneider took a step forward, his voice a low growl.

"I didn't do it, Dad!" Benjamin yelled back, his fists clenching tightly. He pounded his fist into his open palm, trying to control his rage.

"So, you're saying you didn't do it, but you were the only one around when Barnaby Jones was found in the pool?! That's convenient." Schneider's lips curled into a sneer, his eyes never leaving Benjamin's.

"H... He in... I..." Benjamin stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darting around the room.

Before Benjamin could finish his sentence, his father's gaze hardened, cutting through the air with authority. "Enough, Benjamin. I've heard enough excuses. You were there, and you know it. Now, what's done is done, but you need to face the consequences."

Benjamin clenched his fists, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I didn't mean for it to go down like that," he muttered, almost to himself.

"You're not a kid anymore, it's time to own up to your own mistakes," his father said sternly. "You can't keep living in denial. Face the music!"

Benjamin turned away abruptly, his shoulders tensed with unresolved anger and guilt. "I…"

A maid then interrupted as she walked in, announcing, "Old Roger is here." She curtsied quickly, sensing the tension in the room, and then stood by the door, waiting for instructions.