The Hounds of Baskerville (Part 2)

(Open POV)

Moors…

Sherlock is driving them across the moors.

"So, the email from Kirsty – the, er, missing luminous rabbit." John said.

"Kirsty Stapleton, whose mother specialises in genetic manipulation." Sherlock said.

"She made her daughter's rabbit glow in the dark." Mikoto said.

"Probably a fluorescent gene removed and spliced into the specimen. Simple enough these days."

"So…" John said, looking across to Sherlock and waits for him to continue the sentence.

"So we know that Doctor Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. The question is: has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit?"

"To be fair, that is quite a wide field." Shirai said, while Sherlock looks round at her in startled surprise as if realising that that's true.

"Girls, let's go." Jared said, typing in coordinates in his vortex manipulator while Mikoto and Shirai teleported away with him in a flash of blue light. "Sherlock, John, we'll catch up with you two later."

Inn…

Sherlock is back at the inn. Jared reappeared in a flash of blue light with Mikoto and Shirai. Saten and Uiharu is eating dinner nearby. Sitting in an armchair by a roaring open fire, Sherlock's face is still full of shock and disbelief. Unaware of his distress, other patrons sit at nearby tables having their evening meal. John comes in and sits down in the armchair on the other side of the fire.

"Well, he is in a pretty bad way. He's manic, totally convinced there's some mutant super-dog roaming the moors." John said, with his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth, Sherlock glances nervously at the army doctor for a moment, then continues to gaze in the direction of the fire, lost in thought. "And there isn't, though, is there? 'Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we'd know." Sherlock clasps his fingers together, closing his eyes and breathing heavily as if trying to fend off a panic attack. "They'd be for sale. I mean, that's how it works." He remembers something and reaches for his notebook. "Er, listen: er, on the moor I saw someone signalling. Er, Morse – I guess it's Morse."

Sherlock blinks rapidly and repeatedly while John is looking at his notes.

"Well, this doesn't seem to make any sense." Mikoto said, while Sherlock pulls in a sharp breath through his nose and then blows the breath out again through his mouth.

"Er, U, M, Q, R, A. Does that mean ... anything …" John said, as he finally realises how distressed his colleague is looking and pauses for a moment before putting his notebook away and sits back in his chair. "So, okay, what have we got? We know there's footprints, 'cause Henry found them; so did the tour guide bloke. We all heard something."

"It did sound scary," Uiharu said, and Sherlock blows out another shaky breath. "Jared left us with this."

"A pair of Torchwood contact lenses. Makes sense as to how Jared said you were on stanby." John said, while he looks across to Sherlock and frowns momentarily. "Maybe we should just look for whoever's got a big dog."

"Henry's right." Sherlock said.

"What?" Saten asked.

"I saw it too." Sherlock said, his voice shaking.

"What?" John asked, shocked.

"I saw it too, John, Jared, Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu."

"Just ... just a minute." John said, sitting forward. "You saw what?"

Sherlock finally meets our gaze but his face is twisted with self-loathing as he forces himself to admit the truth.

"A hound, out there in the Hollow." Sherlock said, talking through gritted teeth. "A gigantic hound."

"You saw a hound." Mikoto said, as John almost laughs as Sherlock looks away, trying unsuccessfully to blink back tears. "A big one."

"You're kidding, aren't you?" Shirai asked, and John sits back in his chair again, not quite able to cope with this strange reaction from Sherlock.

"Um, look, Sherlock, we have to be rational about this, okay? Now you, of all people, can't just …" John said, while Sherlock blows out another breath. "Let's just stick to what we know, yes? Stick to the facts."

Sherlock looks round at John.

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains – however improbable – must be true." Sherlock said, softly.

"No. Sherlock." Jared said, laughing a little. "It goes like this. 'When you have eliminated all which is impossible then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'"

"Maybe from your world. Or 9 years in the future." Sherlock said, looking at Jared. "You told me about an adventure involving the Silurians. That same adventure also had Rory Williams and Homura Akemi being erased from time."

"What does that mean? That quote?" John asked, looking between Sherlock and Jared. "The one with impossible, improbable, and true or truth."

Looking away again, Sherlock reaches down and picks up a drink from a nearby table. Looking down at his trembling hand, he sniggers.

"Look at me. I'm afraid, John, Jared, Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu. Afraid." Sherlock said, taking a drink and then holding up the glass again, his hand still shaking. "Mikoto, this is how you felt after Level 6 Shift."

"Yeah. It was." Mikoto said, looking at Sherlock. "Sherlock?"

"Always been able to keep myself distant …" Sherlock said, taking another drink from the glass. "... divorce myself from ... feelings. But look, you see …" He holds up the glass and glares at his shaking hand. "... body's betraying me. Interesting, yes? Emotions." Sherlock slams the glass down onto the table. "The grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment."

"Yeah, all right, Spock, just …" John said, realizing that he is starting to raise his voice, he looks around at the other people in the restaurant behind him and then looks back at Sherlock in a more soft tone. "... take it easy."

"He's right. Sissy was like this too with Level 6 Shift." Shirai said, as Sherlock is blowing out a few more breaths and still failing to bring himself under control. "You need to calm down, Sherlock."

"You really do." Jared said, and Sherlock glances panic-stricken at him and John.

"They're right, Sherlock, you've been pretty wired lately, you know you have. I think you've just gone out there and got yourself a bit worked up." John said.

"Worked ... up?" Sherlock asked.

"It was dark and scary …" Uiharu said, sadly. "Wherever you were at."

"Me?! There's nothing wrong with me." Sherlock said, laughing sarcastically before looking away, almost beginning to hyperventilate, then puts his fingertips to his temples, groaning in anguish.

John looks at Sherlock in concern.

"Sherlock …" John said, while Sherlock begins blowing out breaths again, his fingers trembling against his skin. "Sher…"

"Sherlock…" Jared said, grabbing Mikoto's hand.

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!" Sherlock said, loudly, furiously before glaring round at John and Jared. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He looks round at the other patrons, all of whom are now staring at him and the consulting detective looks away again, then looks at John and Jared. "You want me to prove it, yes?"

"If that will make you feel better. Sure." Jared said, while Sherlock pulls in a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. "Do a deduction."

"Thank you, Jared. We're looking for a dog, yes, a great big dog, that's your brilliant theory. Cherchez le chien. Good, excellent, yes, where shall we start?" Sherlock naked, as the patrons have gone back to their eating.

Sherlock looks over his shoulder and points towards a man and woman sitting opposite each other at a table in the corner of the restaurant. His voice becomes savage and relentless as he goes into deduction mode.

"How about them? The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes." Sherlock said.

"Yes?" John asked.

"She's got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not exactly what we're looking for." Sherlock said.

"Oh, Sherlock, for God's sake …" John said, quietly.

Sherlock looks briefly across at the man and his jumper with reindeer and holly leaves knitted into it before turning away again.

"Look at the jumper he's wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it. Maybe it's because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it's a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money." Sherlock said, at a quick fire rate before taking another quick glance at the man, and he began talking at a quick fire rate again. "He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economise on his own food."

"Maybe he's not hungry, Sherlock." Jared said, squeezing Mikoto's hand.

"No, small plate. Starter." Sherlock said, at a quick fire rate, becoming almost frenetic. "He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well-off – you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes." He asks the question he's expecting to come from John and Jared at any moment. "'How d'you know she's his mother?'"

"Was this how I was acting when going to destroy all of those labs?" Mikoto asked, looking at Shirai.

John and Jared, who until now have been looking at their colleague with concern as Sherlock's voice – while lowered – has become increasingly intense, smiles briefly.

"You were tamer than this, sissy." Shirai said, frowning.

"Will you two not interrupt my deduction?" Sherlock asked, before going back to talking at a quick fire rate. "Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive – fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he's turned to his widowed mother for help. 'Widowed?' Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck – clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well-dressed but her jewellery's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it – it's sentimental. Now, the dog …" He looks at the thick wiry hairs on the lower part of the woman's black trousers. "... tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knees, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is – a West Highland terrier called Whisky. 'How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?' 'Cause she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name and that's not cheating, that's listening. I use my senses, John, Jared, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I've never been better, so just Leave. Me. Alone."

Sherlock glares at John and Jared, who stares back at him in shock.

"Yeah." John said, clearing his throat. "Okay. Okay."

Distressed by his colleague's venom, John tries to settle back in his chair while Sherlock stares towards the fire, breathing heavily. Jared is squeezing Mikoto's hand out of worry for Sherlock.

"And why would you listen to us? We're just your friends." John said.

"We're your only friends, Sherlock." Jared said, sadly.

"I don't have friends." Sherlock said, savagely.

"Naah. Wonder why?" John said, softly before getting up and walking away.

Shortly afterwards, John storms out of the pub and stops just outside, breathing heavily. He gazes up into the sky and blows out a breath, pulling himself together, then looks into the distance and his eyes narrow. The flashing light is back on the hillside. As it continues to flash, he starts to walk in its direction.

Jared typed in coordinates into his vortex manipulator and teleported away in a flash of blue light, mostly because he knows this adventure is going to be slow.

(Jared's POV)

Village…

I reappeared in a flash of blue light to be back at the village. Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu have been worried about me as I caught up with them about what happened so far, including the bits I missed due to time traveling. Later, Sherlock is walking back through the village but stops when he sees John in the church graveyard, sitting on the steps of a war memorial and looking through the notes in his notebook. Sherlock goes through the kissing gate and walks along the path towards John, who looks up as he hears him approach. John's expression becomes uncomfortable as he tucks his notebook into his pocket. Grimacing briefly, Sherlock stops in front of him, also looking awkward.

"Hey John, were you able to get anywhere with the Morse Code?" I asked, looking at John.

"No." John said, stepping down as he starts to walk away.

"U, M, Q, R, A, wasn't it?" Sherlock asked, while John kept walking and the consulting detective and I followed along behind him with the trench coat lover voicing the initials as a word. "UMQRA."

"Nothing." John said.

"It sucks knowing the answer but can't say it." I said, looking at the girls from Academy City. "I know what it is."

In Sherlock's mind, he puts full stops in between the letters but still voices it as a word.

"Can't you say it?" Mikoto asked, looking at me.

"He can't. Not without making this adventure worse." Shirai said, sadly.

"Which is why he keeps traveling forward in time." Uiharu said.

"I feel bad." Saten said, frowning. "This village is nice."

"But keeping us away from Baskerville isn't the answer, now is it?"

"Girls, we've discussed this." I said, looking between Uiharu and Saten. "I'm not letting a Level 1 and a Level 0 into Baskerville."

"Putting it that way. It makes sense as to why you wanted Misaka and Kuroko there."

John smiles briefly and glances over his shoulder but still keeps walking, "You being funny now?"

"Thought it might break the ice a bit." Sherlock said.

"Funny doesn't suit you. It suits Jared and those four girls there. I'd stick to ice, Sherlock." John said.

"You're not wrong. Half of the adventures Tokiwadai's Ace goes through is literally a comedic slice of life." I said, while Sherlock looked at John and my retreating back, his face full of pain. "But they can be serious too at times."

"John ... Jared…" Sherlock said, looking between John and I.

"It's fine." John said.

"No, wait. What happened last night ... Something happened to me; something I've not really experienced before …"

"Yes, you said: fear. Sherlock Holmes got scared. You said." John said.

"Sherlock, you're scared of this adventure. That's what you said." I said, sadly. "You're scared of the 'Hounds of Baskerville'."

Sherlock catches John and I up, takes hold of one of John's arms and one of my arms and pulls the two of us round to face him.

"No-no-no, it was more than that, John, Jared. It was doubt. I felt doubt. I've always been able to trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes, until last night." Sherlock said.

"You can't actually believe that you saw some kind of monster." John said.

"No, I can't believe that." Sherlock said, grinning bitterly for a moment. "But I did see it, so the question is: how? How?"

"Yes. Yeah, right, good. So you've got something to go on, then? Good luck with that." John said, turning and starting to walk away again.

"Girls, can we go back to Academy City now?" I asked, looking at Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu while typing in coordinates into my vortex manipulator. "Sherlock can handle this case without me."

Sherlock turns and calls after John and I.

"Listen, what I said before, John, Jared. I meant it." Sherlock said, as John and I stopped and turned back to face him. "I don't have friends." He bites his lip briefly. "I've just got two."

"So, we're your only friends." I said, and John and I look away as we take in that statement for a moment, then we nod briefly and glances back at Sherlock. "Maybe it's like S.O.N.G. or something. A single word."

"Right. A song." John said, turning and walking away again with me and the girls from Academy City behind us.

Sherlock looks down, then instantly raises his head again and his eyes begin to flicker in realisation of something.

"John? Jared? John! Jared!" Sherlock said, starting to chase after John and I after pushing Mikoto out of the way. "You two are amazing! You both are fantastic!"

"Yes, all right! You don't have to overdo it." John said, not stopping.

"John, Jared, you both have never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light, you two are unbeatable." Sherlock said, catching up and overtaking John and I, then walking backwards in front of us.

"Cheers. ... What?" John asked.

Sherlock turns round and walks beside John and I, taking out his own notebook and starting to write in it.

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others." Sherlock said.

"Hang on – you were saying 'Sorry' a minute ago. Don't spoil it. Go on: what have Jared and I done that's so bloody stimulating?" John asked.

Sherlock stops just outside the pub door and turns back to John and I, showing what he has just written in his notebook:

HOUND

"Yeah?" John asked.

"What if it isn't a word? But individual letters?" Shirai asked, and Sherlock pulls the notebook back and writing in it again.

Sherlock shows us the page of the notebook again, which now reads:

H.O.U.N.D.

"Is it an acronym?" Mikoto asked.

"Absolutely no idea but …" Sherlock said, putting his notebook away.

"So, you gave Sherlock a hint." Mikoto said, while Sherlock turns towards the pub door and trails off when he sees a familiar figure standing inside at the bar. "Were you leading him in the right direction?"

Wearing grey trousers and a grey shirt with a light jacket over the top, heavily suntanned and with sunglasses on, Detective Inspector Lestrade has his hands in his trouser pockets and is looking the absolute epitome of casual drop-dead gorgeousness.

"Yeah." I said, grabbing Uiharu's hand. "I was."

Sherlock storms into the pub, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, nice to see you too! I'm on holiday, would you believe?" Lestrade asked.

"No, I wouldn't." Sherlock said.

"Hullo, John. Hullo, Jared. Hullo, girls." Lestrade said, taking of his sunglasses as John, Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, Uiharu, and I walked over to the bar.

"Greg!" John said, happily.

"Greg, it's been a while." I said, smiling.

"I heard you were in the area. The Railgun and her friends called me. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?" Sherlock asked.

"I've told you: I'm on holiday. Mikoto and her friends called me."

"You're brown as a nut. You're clearly just back from your 'holidays.'"

"Yeah, well I fancied another one." Lestrade said, trying to look nonchalant.

"Oh, this isn't the Railgun's doing, this is Mycroft, isn't it?" Sherlock asked, looking between Mikoto and Lestrade.

"No, look …"

"Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to ... to spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?" Sherlock asked.

"That's his name." I said, grabbing Uiharu's hand.

"Is it?" Sherlock asked, frowning.

"Yes – if you'd ever bothered to find out. Look, I'm not your handler …" Lestrade said, turning away to pick up his pint from the bar. "... and I don't just do what your brother tells me."

"Actually, Greg, we need you." I said, looking at Lestrade.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I've not been idle and neither has Jared, Sherlock." John said, rummaging in his trouser pocket. "I think I might have found something." He shows Sherlock the sales invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies which he stole off the bar while he was checking in. "Here. Didn't know if it was relevant; starting to look like it might be."

"That is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant." Uiharu said, looking at the sales invoice.

"Excellent." Sherlock said.

"Nice scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy." John said, looking at Greg.

Sherlock and Greg exchange a look, and John slaps his hand down on the bell on top of the bar.

"Shop! " John said, angrily.

(Open POV)

Later, in the small Snug next to the bar, Greg, Shirai, and Uiharu are sitting at a table looking through paperwork – presumably previous invoices from Undershaw – while Gary the manager and Billy the chef sit at the other side of the table looking at them anxiously. Nearby, Sherlock has poured a cup of coffee from a filter machine and is stirring it. He ostentatiously taps the drips off the spoon into the cup and then picks up the cup and its saucer and carries them over to John, offering them to him.

"What's this?" John asked.

"Coffee. I made coffee." Sherlock said.

"You never make coffee."

"I just did. Don't you want it?"

"You don't have to keep apologising." John said, while Sherlock looks away with a hurt expression on his face.

"Am I usually like that with Kamijou and Kuroko?" Mikoto asked, as she looked at Jared.

"You mean being a tsundere." Jared said, and John relents and takes the cup and saucer. "Yeah. It's pretty cute actually."

"Thanks." John said, while Sherlock smiles happily as the army doctor lifts the cup to his mouth, takes a mouthful and grimaces. "Mm. I don't take sugar …"

"Jared's right, sissy." Shirai said, as the hurt expression comes back onto Sherlock's face as he looks away again. "You are like that around me and the ape."

"I am not!" Mikoto said, and Sherlock's like a puppy whose owner has just told him off for chewing his slippers. "Kuroko…"

John looks at Sherlock's face and feels that he has no choice but to take a longer drink from the cup.

"Um, these records go back nearly two months." Uiharu said, looking at the records.

Grimacing at the taste, John puts the cup back into the saucer and looks at Sherlock.

"That's nice. That's good." John said, turning away to put the drink down on a nearby mantelpiece while Lestrade, Saten, and Uiharu continued interrogating Gary and Billy.

"Is that when you had the idea, after the TV show went out?" Saten asked.

"It's me. It was me." Billy said, turning to his partner. "I'm sorry, Gary – I couldn't help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Cal's wedding and one thing just led to another …"

Sherlock grins behind him.

Lestrade is equally disbelieving, "Nice try."

"Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know? A great big dog run wild up on the moor – it was heaven-sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster." Gary said.

"Where do you keep it?" Jared asked, walking over to Gary and Billy.

"There's an old mineshaft. It's not too far. It was all right there."

"'Was'?" Mikoto asked, tilting her head.

"We couldn't control the bloody thing. It was vicious." Gary said, sighing before sighing again. "And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, er ... you know."

"The dog died?" Shirai asked.

"Put down."

"Yeah. No choice. So it's over." Billy said.

"It was just a joke, you know?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, hilarious!" Lestrade said, standing up and looks down at Gary and Billy angrily. "You've nearly driven a man out of his mind."

He walks out of the room. John follows him. Sherlock watches him go, then peers into John's coffee cup before following. John follows Greg across the bar and out of the pub.

"You know he's actually pleased you're here?" John asked, while Greg throws him a disbelieving look. "Secretly pleased."

"Is he? That's nice! I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his ... his …" Lestrade said, stopping and searches for the right word.

John provides an appropriate suggestion.

"... Asperger's?" John asked, as Sherlock comes out of the pub with Jared, Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu.

Sherlock glowers at John, having heard the last word.

"So, you believe him about having the dog destroyed?" Lestrade asked.

"No reason not to." Sherlock said.

"Well, hopefully there's no harm done. Not quite sure what I'd charge him with anyway. I'll have a word with the local Force." Lestrade said, nodding to the boys and girls. "Right, that's that, then. Catch you later." He smiles. "I'm enjoying this! It's nice to get London for me and Academy City for your girls out of your lungs!"

John watches Lestrade walk away, then turns to Sherlock and Jared.

"So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?" John asked.

"Well, it does look like it." Jared said, grabbing Uiharu's hand.

"But Sherlock, that wasn't what you saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog." John said, looking at Sherlock.

"No." Sherlock said, and his gaze become distant. "It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John, Jared, Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, Uiharu. Its whole body was glowing." He shudders, shaking off the memory, then turns and walks towards the car park. "I've got a theory but I need to get back into Baskerville to test it."

"How? Can't pull off the ID trick again." John said.

"Might not have to." Sherlock said, taking out his phone and hit a speed dial and now he lifts the phone to his ear before talking insincerely into his phone. "Hello, brother dear. How are you?"

BASKERVILLE…

After many generic scenes of some of the scientific experiments being conducted at the facility, Doctor Stapleton can be seen handling a fluffy white bunny inside a large clear plastic dome. Jared has told Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu to stay behind at the inn as he decided to go to Baskerville with Sherlock and John. At the entrance gates, the Land Rover approaches and stops. An armed security man goes over to Sherlock's side while the dog handler and sniffer dog also approach.

"Afternoon, sir. If you could turn the engine off." The security guard said, as Sherlock hands over his ID pass and switches the car off. "Thank you."

As the security guard goes over to the gate room to swipe the card and other soldiers check the vehicle over from the outside, Sherlock speaks quietly to John and Jared.

"I need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside." Sherlock said.

"Right." John said.

"Which means, John, you'll have to start the search for the hound." Sherlock said.

"Okay."

"In the labs; Stapleton's first." Sherlock said, and the guard brings back the ID card and hands it over, before talking quietly to John. "Could be dangerous."

John smiles momentarily.

"Jared, you need to time travel ahead of John searching for it." Sherlock said, looking at Jared. "You've already seen the hound. You'll ruin it."

"I know." Jared said, while the gate slides open and Sherlock starts the car and drives onto the base. "I'll talk to you two, later."

Jared typed in coordinates into his vortex manipulator and teleported away in a flash of blue light.

(Jared's POV)

Inn…

I reappeared in a flash of blue light a few hours into the night and asked Shirai to teleport herself back home with Mikoto, Saten, and Uiharu when I visited the inn for a bit. Shirai agreed and teleported away with them after I told her how dangerous this case is going to be and I am trying to keep them safe. I then used my vortex manipulator to teleport back to Baskerville without any worries.

Baskerville…

I reappeared when the lights come on in the lab at the same moment that Sherlock's face appears on the other side of the cage, looking down anxiously at John as he pulls open the door and goes inside.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked, worriedly as John's eyes widened in utter bewilderment as the consulting detective and I bent down to him and the two of us put our hands onto his shoulders. "John …"

"John. Are you okay?" I asked, squeezing his other shoulder. "Is everything good?"

"Jesus Christ …" John said, grabbing the bars and pulls himself to his feet, hurrying out of the cage and stuffing his phone away as he turns back to Sherlock and I, still breathless and panic-stricken. "It was the hound, Sherlock, Jared. It was here. I swear it, Sherlock, Jared. It must …" He looks around the lab which – now fully illuminated – shows that there's nowhere that a large monster can be hiding. "It must …" His voice becomes high-pitched. "Did ... did ... did the two of you see it? You must have!"

"John, everything's okay." I said, holding out a placatory hand towards John. "You don't have to be afraid. Everything's okay. You're safe now."

"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OKAY! I saw it. I was wrong!" John said, high-pitched, frantic and hysterical.

Sherlock shrugs while John breathes heavily.

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions." Sherlock said, calmly.

"What?" John asked.

"What did you see?" I asked, looking at John.

"I told you: I saw the hound."

"Huge; red eyes?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes." John said.

"Glowing?"

"Yeah."

"Nope. The hound's eyes didn't glow." I said, smiling. "I know this, because I do."

"What?"

"Jared's right. I made up the bit about glowing. John, you saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged." Sherlock said.

"Drugged?" John asked.

"Can you walk?"

"'Course I can walk." John said, his voice shaky.

"Come on, then. It's time to lay this ghost." Sherlock said, turning and heads for the door with me beside him.

"Come on, John." I said, happily. "We don't have all day!"

Still trying to catch his breath, John looks around the lab again, then stumbles after Sherlock and I.

In a small room full of cages, Doctor Stapleton is examining a fluffy white rabbit on a metal table. She looks up when Sherlock comes through the door, followed by John and I.

"Oh. Back again? What's on your mind this time?" Stapleton asked.

"Murder, Doctor Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder." Sherlock said, reaching back and turns off the light switch by the door.

"Glowing rabbit." I said, while the limited lighting coming from the window at the end of the room is just enough to show that the rabbit is glowing a bright green. "And you murdered her." I turn the lights back on. "Will you tell Kirsty what happened to Bluebell or do you want me to?"

"It's either I tell Kristy what happens to Bluebell or Jared gives her the comforting version, parental guidance version." Sherlock said, smiling unpleasantly at Stapleton.

Stapleton sighs, "Okay. What do you want?"

"Can I borrow your microscope?" Sherlock asked.

LATER…

In a larger lab, Sherlock has taken off his coat and is sitting at a bench and gazing into a microscope. Unhappy with what he's seeing, he turns away from the 'scope and crushes something which looks crystalline into smaller pieces with a little hammer. Time passes and he varies between sitting with his back to the microscope, his hands folded in the prayer position in front of him while he thinks, or gazing into the 'scope, or scribbling chemical formulae onto the desk with different coloured marker pens. Nearby, John sits on a stool with his head propped on his hand, gazing blankly into space. I am eating some chocolate chip cookies on a stool next to Sherlock as I really want this adventure to end but I know it is going to take a while. Doctor Stapleton is standing near Sherlock on the other end of him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Stapleton asked, while John looks up at her, blinking. "You look very peaky."

"No, I'm all right." John said.

"It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you're interested."

"What?"

"In the rabbits."

"Mm, right, yes."

"Aequoria Victoria, if you really want to know." Stapleton said, proudly.

John and I looked up at her.

"Why? Why did you experiment on Bluebell and other rabbits like it?" I asked, munching down on another chocolate chip cookie. "You could have left them alone."

"Why not? We don't ask questions like that here. It isn't done." Stapleton said, as a short distance from her, John, and I, Sherlock looks increasingly irritated as he picks up another slide and puts it under the microscope. "There was a mix-up, anyway. My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go."

"Your compassion's overwhelming." John said, cynically.

"I know. I hate myself sometimes." Stapleton said, mockingly.

"So, come on then. You can trust me – I'm a doctor. What else have you got hidden away up here?" John asked, and Sherlock exasperatedly takes out the slide again.

Stapleton sighs, "Listen: if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are."

Sherlock is staring intently at his latest slide, then his eyes slide across to a nearby read-out on a screen.

"Do you clone them? Is that what you do?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, of course. Dolly the Sheep, remember?" Stapleton asked.

"What about human cloning? Like the Level 6 Shift Project, also known as the Sisters Project." I said, sadly.

"Why not?"

"What about animals? Not sheep ... big animals." John said.

"Size isn't a problem, not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law, and both those things can be ... very flexible. But not here – not at Baskerville." Stapleton said.

Furious, Sherlock stands up, snatches the latest slide out from under the 'scope and hurls it against the nearest wall.

"It's not there!" Sherlock said, livid.

"Jesus!" John said, terrified.

"Sherlock!" I said, angrily.

"Nothing there! Doesn't make any sense." Sherlock said.

"What were you expecting to find?" Stapleton asked.

"A drug, of course. There has to be a drug – a hallucinogenic or a deliriant of some kind. There's no trace of anything in the sugar." Sherlock asked, pacing.

"Was it the sugar? Or what's in the sugar?" I asked, pacing another cookie in my mouth to eat it.

"The sugar, yes. It's a simple process of elimination. I saw the hound – saw it as my imagination expected me to see it: a genetically engineered monster. But I knew I couldn't believe the evidence of my own eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight – he saw it too but you didn't, John. You didn't see it. Jared would have seen it if he went down to Dewer's Hollow with us. Now, the three of us have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen apart from one thing: John, you don't take sugar in your coffee, Jared does." Sherlock said, looking between John and I.

"I see. So …" John said.

"I took it from Henry's kitchen – his sugar." Sherlock said, glaring down at the microscope. "It's perfectly all right."

"Maybe it's not a drug, Sherlock. The timeline could have changed from how I remembered it." I said, frowning.

"No, it has to be a drug. And the 'timeline' couldn't have changed. You could have felt it, Jared." Sherlock said, sitting on the stool with his head buried in his hands. Now he lowers his hands a little but keeps his head bowed and his eyes closed. "But how did it, the drug, get into our systems. How?" Slowly he begins to raise his head, still keeping his eyes closed. "There has to be something …" The word 'hound' keeps drifting across his mind's eye. He turns his head repeatedly as he tries to follow the words inside his head. "... something ... ah, something …" His eyes open. "... something buried deep." Taking a sharp breath through his nose, he turns and points imperiously at Stapleton. "Get out."

"What?" Stapleton asked.

"Get out. I need to go to my mind palace." Sherlock said.

John sags on his seat with an 'Oh, not again' look as I did a face palm.

"Your what?" Stapleton asked.

"Looks like it's that time again." I said, while Sherlock has already turned his head away again and is staring ahead of himself. "Time for him to figure things out."

"Yeah." John said, standing up and picking up his jacket as I stood up and picked up my box of chocolate chip cookies. "Sherlock's not gonna be doing much talking for a while. We may as well go."

Sherlock is breathing deeply, focusing his thoughts. Stapleton follows John and I as the two of us head for the door.

"His what?" Stapleton asked.

"Oh, his mind palace. It's a memory technique – a sort of mental map. You plot a map with a location – it doesn't have to be a real place – and then you deposit memories there that ... Theoretically, you can never forget anything; all you have to do is find your way back to it." John said.

"So this imaginary location can be anything – a house or a street." Stapleton said.

"Yeah."

"But Sherlock said 'palace.' He said it was a palace."

"Yeah, well, he would, wouldn't he?" John asked, looking back towards Sherlock for a moment.

"That's the thing Sherlock does." I said, as John and I led Stapleton out of the room. "I saw this part on telly back home. But in real life, Sherlock would be flailing his hands around and it looks ridiculous."

(Open POV)

Sherlock gazes ahead of himself, his mind turned inwards as he walks through his memories unearthing everything he can recall in connection with the word 'Liberty.' Sherlock accesses different examples of the word and when he finds them unsuitable, he physically flicks them away with his hands and pulls in new variations before brushing those aside. The word 'hound' creeps into his mind and drifts across it as he temporarily gives up on 'Liberty' and shifts to 'In,' adding various letters onto the word to form new ones like 'Inn,' 'India,' 'Ingolstadt' and 'Indium atomic number = 49'.

Flicking that line of thought away, he starts calling up images of large dogs, running through various breeds and temporarily being distracted by the image of Elvis Presley starting to sing the first line of 'Hound Dog.' Irritated, he brushes that aside and tries to pull in all three words – Liberty, In, Hound – simultaneously and suddenly his eyes snap open and he jolts three times as if he's being repeatedly struck by lightning as the words finally crash into place:

Liberty,

Indiana

H.O.U.N.D.

Sherlock sinks back on his seat for a moment, then stands up and heads out of the lab.

THE MOORS…

It is now nighttime and the hound howls and Henry races across the grass, his pistol in one hand, terrified as the hound snarls behind him. Henry runs on, glancing back repeatedly as he hears his pursuer gaining on him. Two red glowing eyes loom out of the darkness each time he looks around, but now he suddenly seems to realise that he has a gun in his hand and he turns and fires towards the eyes.

Glass shatters and Louise Mortimer screams and throws herself out of her chair in the sitting room of Henry's house and cowers on the floor. Just beside her chair, the mirror on the wall has shattered under the impact of the bullet which Henry just fired into it. Sobbing and cowering, she looks up at Henry as he continues to aim at the mirror, his face blank, but now he comes back to himself and looks at the pistol in horror.

"Oh my God." Henry said, and Louise continues to sob. "Oh my God. Oh my God. I am so ... I am so sorry. I am so sorry."

Henry turns and runs from the room.

(Jared's POV)

BASKERVILLE…

Stapleton leads Sherlock, John, and I along a corridor and uses her card to swipe them into a large room which has Major Barrymore's office in the corner. As we go into the room, Sherlock points back to the door we just came through.

"John." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, I'm on it." John said, turning back to keep an eye on the door while Stapleton goes over to sit down at a computer.

"Project HOUND. Must have read about it and stored it away. An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana." Sherlock said, standing behind Stapleton while she types her User ID onto the computer, then adds her password. A request to 'Enter Search String' comes up and she looks up at Sherlock who dictates the letters. "H, O, U, N, D."

"Come on…" I said, while Stapleton types in the letters and hits Enter. A message comes up saying 'NO ACCESS. CIA Classified' and requesting an authorisation code. "Shit."

"That's as far as my access goes, I'm afraid." Stapleton said, sadly.

"Well, there must be an override and password." John said.

"I imagine so, but that'd be Major Barrymore's."

Sherlock spins around and walks into Barrymore's office.

"Password, password, password." Sherlock said, switching on the lights in the room he sits down at the desk. "He sat here when he thought it up." Folding his hands in front of his mouth, he slowly spins a full circle on the chair, looking around the office as he goes. Stapleton comes to the doorway with me. "Describe him to me."

"You've seen him." Stapleton said.

"But describe him."

"Er, he's a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort of man they'd have sent into Suez."

"Good, excellent. Old-fashioned, traditionalist; not the sort that would use his children's names as a password." Sherlock said, gesturing towards the children's drawings pinned on the board above the desk. "He loves his job; proud of it and this is work-related, so what's at eye level?" He rapidly scans around everything in the room without altering the angle of his eyes before gesturing to the right. "Books." Sherlock is pointing to the left. "Jane's Defence Weekly – bound copies." He looks to the right again and at the subject matter of some of the books on the bookshelf. "Hannibal; Wellington; Rommel; Churchill's 'History of the English-Speaking Peoples' – all four volumes." Sherlock stands up and looks at a bronze bust on a shelf. "Churchill – well, he's fond of Churchill." He looks back to the bookcases again. "Copy of 'The Downing Street Years'; one, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Thatcher." Sherlock looks down to a framed photograph on the desk of a man in uniform standing with his teenage son. "Mid 1980s at a guess. Father and son: Barrymore senior." Sherlock is looking at the uniform of the older man. "Medals: Distinguished Service Order."

"Sorry. I don't know British history that well. Especially for wars." I said, while Sherlock looked at me. "For me, it was the Cold War."

Sherlock looks away from me and around to John who has come to the office door.

"That date? I'd say Falklands veteran." John said.

"Right. So Thatcher's looking a more likely bet than Churchill." Sherlock said, walking out of the office and heads back towards the computer.

"So that's the password?" Stapleton asked, following Sherlock with me behind her.

"No. With a man like Major Barrymore, only first name terms would do." Sherlock said, leaning down to the keyboard, he starts to type Margaret Thatcher's first name into the 'Auth code' box but stops when he reaches the penultimate letter.

"Is it Peggy or Maggie?" I asked, looking down at the password screen, thinking that the password is limited to seven letters.

"It's a 50/50 shot, Jared." Sherlock said, while he may have already realised that it's not the correct password. "It can't be 'Peggy'. Margaret Thatcher isn't Peggy Carter, lover of Captain America."

Sherlock narrows his eyes and deletes everything back to the first letter, then retypes it as 'Maggie'. Looking into the screen and gritting his teeth ever so slightly, he hits Enter. The computer beeps happily and announces 'OVERRIDE 300/421 ACCEPTED. Loading …'

John comes over from the door to look at the screen. After a slight pause information begins to stream across the screen as everything related to Project H.O.U.N.D. becomes available. Sherlock's concentration becomes intense while he takes it all in, focusing on certain phrases like 'extreme suggestibility,' 'fear and stimulus,' 'conditioned terror,' 'aerosol dispersal.' A photograph comes up of the project team posing happily together and he identifies the five project leaders amongst the larger group: Elaine Dyson, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Jack O'Mara and Leonard Hansen. Clearing the photo from the screen he rearranges the names into another order:

Leonard Hansen

Jack O'Mara

Mary Uslowski

Rick Nader

Elaine Dyson

Standing beside Sherlock, Doctor Stapleton finally begins to understand.

"HOUND." Stapleton said, staring at the screen in growing horror as more information from the project appears and words and phrases are highlighted such as 'Paranoia,' 'Severe frontal lobe damage,' 'Blood-brain,' 'Gross cranial trauma,' 'Dangerous acceleration,' 'Multiple homicide,' accompanied by photographs of some of the subjects of the project screaming insanely.

"Jesus." John said, softly.

"This is why I sent Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu away." I said, looking between Sherlock and John. "None of them can be exposed to Project HOUND."

"That makes a lot of sense in actuality." Sherlock said, still scanning the information as it flows across the screen. "Project HOUND: a new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus; but they shut it down and hid it away in 1986."

"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on." I said, sadly.

"And what they did to others. Prolonged exposure drove them insane – made them almost uncontrollably aggressive. If the Railgun got exposed to it, she could become as almost uncontrollably aggressive as the Accelerator."

"So someone's been doing it again – carrying on the experiments?" John asked.

"Attempting to refine it, perhaps, for the last twenty years." Sherlock said.

"Who?" Stapleton asked.

John nods at the screen, indicating the names of the project leaders, "Those names mean anything to you?"

"No, not a thing."

"Five principal scientists, twenty years ago." Sherlock said, sighing before pulling up the photograph of the team and begins zooming in on individuals within it.

The closer footage shows that they are all wearing identical sweatshirts. Looming out of a diamond pattern in the centre of the sweatshirts is a large snarling wolf's head and the legend 'H.O.U.N.D.' is printed underneath. There is some smaller text underneath but it's not yet clear what it says.

Sherlock continues to zoom in and out of the photo to look more closely at the faces.

"Maybe our friend's somewhere in the back of the picture – someone who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986 …" Sherlock said, stopping when he sees a face he recognises, and rolls his eyes a little as he realises the truth. "Maybe somebody who says 'cell phone' because of time spent in America. You remember, John, Jared?"

"Mm-hm." John said.

"Yeah. I do." I said, letting out a sigh. "He gave us his number in case we needed him."

"Oh my God. Bob Frankland. But Bob doesn't even work on ... I mean, he's a virologist. This was chemical warfare." Stapleton said, staring at the photo on the screen.

"It's where he started, though ... and he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work. Nice of him to give us his number." Sherlock said, reaching into his pocket and taking out Frankland's card. "Let's arrange a little meeting."

He walks away from the computer with me behind him. John walks closer to it and looks at the last image – a very tight close-up of one of the sweatshirts. Stitched below the 'H.O.U.N.D.' legend is the name of the American town and state where the project was based: 'Liberty, In'.

Just then John's phone begins to ring. He digs it out of his pocket and frowns at the number on the screen, apparently not recognising it. He answers.

"Thank you for helping me as much as you did, Jared." Sherlock said, looking at me.

"It was no problem, Sherlock." I said, smiling.

"You knew how bad Project H.O.U.N.D. was, didn't you?"

"I did. Mikoto Misaka has enough psychological trauma already."

"I saw how intense she can be. After you sent me videos of her in action earlier." Sherlock said. "She can be reckless in combat."

"I knew my limits with her."

"I know you do. Are you going to let her face Moriarty? If he does come back."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Only call her and her friends for that battle. If he does come back in the worst way possible."

Lowering his phone, John begins to text.

"Was it Henry?" I asked, looking at John.

"He's attacked her." John said.

"Gone?" Sherlock asked.

"Mm."

"There's only one place he'll go to: back to where it all started." Sherlock said, hitting a speed dial on his own phone before talking into it. "Lestrade. Get to the Hollow. ... Dewer's Hollow, now. And bring a gun."

[Dewer's Hollow]

With the pistol still in his hand, Henry is walking briskly across the moors towards the woods surrounding Dewer's Hollow. Some distance behind him, Sherlock, John, and I race across the terrain in the Land Rover. Unaware of this, Henry continues onwards, stopping momentarily to stare tearfully at the woods ahead of him, but then he continues onwards. Not long afterwards Sherlock pulls up presumably where the woods begin and he, John, and I get out and continue on foot. Henry reaches the lip of the Hollow and begins to make his way down into the misty valley. Reaching the bottom he slows down and stumbles slowly forward, wandering around vaguely for a moment before coming to a halt.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dad." Henry said, softly, before squatting down and bringing up the pistol and opens his mouth as he aims the muzzle towards it.

"No, Henry, no! No!" Sherlock said, while he, John, and I scramble down the slope, shining our torches towards him.

"Be careful!" I said, as Henry stands up and stumbles backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in our direction.

Henry's voice is high-pitched and hysterical.

"Get back. Get – get away from me!" Henry said, angrily.

"Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax." John said.

"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!"

"Just put the gun down. It's okay."

"No, no, I know what I am!" Henry said, his voice hoarse with anguish.

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it – explained very carefully." Sherlock said, as reassuring as he'll ever sound.

"What?"

"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." Sherlock said, and he begins to step closer to Henry. "Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy."

Henry's gun hand begins to droop momentarily but then he raises it again, his face full of his struggle to understand.

"I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought …" Henry said, losing control and begins to scream in anguish. "Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don't – I don't know any more!"

Sobbing, Henry bends forward and aims the muzzle into his mouth again.

"No, Henry! Henry, for God's sake!" John said, lurching forward towards Henry.

"Henry, remember. 'Liberty In.' Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago." Sherlock said, urgently while Henry begins to calm a little but still remains 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 starts to straighten up, blinking. "Not a monster." Henry turns to look at Sherlock. "A man."

Henry's eyes widen as the memories begin to come. In brief flashes he starts to relive the truth. As he has always remembered, his father is scrabbling at the ground trying to get away from his attacker, but now for the first time Henry can see that what is pulling him backwards across the earth is not a creature but a man wearing a dark leather old-fashioned gas mask. The glass of the two large eye pieces is tinted a dark red and in the limited light available the eye pieces seem to be glowing. Young Henry watches from partway up the slope, cringing and terrified as the attacker pummels at his father, half strangling him and then punching wildly at his face. Mr Knight manages to pull himself from under his assailant and starts to crawl away but the other man, growling fiercely, tugs him backwards and Henry's father loses his balance and falls forward. His head strikes a rock and he collapses to the ground unmoving. Breathing heavily through the gas mask, the other man pokes at him, realises that he isn't going to move again and gets to his feet. He looks down at the man he has just killed and young Henry sees the sweatshirt he is wearing, with its picture of a snarling wolf-like creature, the letters 'H.O.U.N.D.' underneath and 'Liberty, In' below them. Young Henry's mind begins to mix everything up and, some hours later when he meets the old lady walking her dog, his new horror is complete and he screams in utter terror.

In the present he gapes at Sherlock as the truth reasserts itself in his mind.

"You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said." Sherlock said, looking at Henry.

"It's okay, Henry." I said, while I quietly step forward, holding out my hand encouragingly towards Henry as Greg Lestrade arrives and calls out while he trots down the slope towards them. "It's okay.."

"Sherlock!" Lestrade said.

"Everything's fine. You're fine." I said, gently to Henry. "It's okay. You're okay, Henry. You're safe with us."

I carefully took the pistol from Henry's fingers.

Henry speaks tearfully to Sherlock, "But we saw it: the hound, last night. We s... we, we, we did, we saw …"

"Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it – saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus; that's how it works." Sherlock said, as Henry stares at him in confusion with the consulting detective returns his look sympathetically. "But there never was any monster."

The hound has different ideas, however, and now its anguished howl rings out in the woods above them. Everyone's head snaps up and John, Greg, and I aim our flashlights upwards to the top of the Hollow where a low shape can be seen slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.

"Sherlock …" John said.

Sherlock stares up in disbelief as Henry turns to him, horrified.

"No." Henry said, beginning to wail in panic. "No, no, no, no!"

Henry backs away as Sherlock tries simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above us.

"Henry, Henry …" Sherlock said.

"Sherlock …" John said, and the creature continues to slink along the rim of the Hollow as Henry begins to scream in abject terror while Henry crumples to his knees, continually screaming, 'No!'. "Henry!"

The hound turns towards the Hollow and looks down at everyone, snarling viciously. Its eyes glow in the torchlight as Henry continues to wail.

"Shit!" Lestrade said, staring up at the rim.

"Um…" I said, while I turned and shined my phone's flashlight into his face. "Greg, are you seeing this? Are you seeing the hound?"

Greg glances at me momentarily and his expression answers the question. Sherlock takes a quick look around to the inspector to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound.

"Right: he is not drugged, Sherlock, so what's that? What is it?!" John exclaimed, as Henry continues to wail behind us, Sherlock screws his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to handle the overload in his mind.

Sherlock stares upwards again.

"All right! It's still here …" Sherlock said, panting heavily for a moment before pulling himself together. "... but it's just a dog. Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!"

The hound doesn't think so and it raises its head and lets out a long terrifying howl.

"Oh my God." Lestrade said, stumbling backwards and now the hound turns and leaps a short way down the slope, its eyes flashing red in the torchlight. "Oh, Christ!"

John and I stares at it as it stops again, its red glowing eyes now clearly visible as it opens its mouth and reveals a mouthful of long pointed teeth that you would never see on any dog. Its snarl is completely terrifying. Henry has fallen silent, gazing up at it as if he knows that it is going to kill him shortly. Sherlock is still trying to believe what his own eyes are telling him ... and now there's movement behind them. Sherlock looks over his shoulder and sees a tall human figure through the mist. The new arrival is wearing a breathing mask with a clear visor over his face. Sherlock turns and rushes towards him, grabbing at the mask and ripping it upwards to fully reveal the man's face ... and Jim Moriarty grins manically back at him.

"No!" Sherlock said, staring at Moriarty in appalled horror and behind him the hound growls ominously again.

Jim's expression becomes intense and murderous but then his head begins to distort and flail about, morphing between Jim's face and someone else's so quickly that it's impossible to keep up with the changes. Sherlock grimaces, groaning at the insanity going on in front of him while Jim's face keeps reasserting itself.

"It's not you! You're not here!" Sherlock said, frantically and grabbing at the figure, he spins him around and then headbutts him in the face.

The figure crumples slightly and raises his hand to his face as he straightens up ... and now the man in front of Sherlock is Bob Frankland. Sherlock clings onto his jacket, his breathing panicked and frantic ... but then he turns his head to one side and looks at the mist surrounding them. Frankland still has his hand clamped over his mouth and nose, and suddenly it all begins to make sense to Sherlock.

"It's the fog." I said, smiling. "Sherlock, it's the fog."

"What?" John asked, still aiming his torch up at the hound.

"You're right, Jared. It's the fog! The drug: it's in the fog! Aerosol dispersal – that's what it said in those records. Project HOUND – it's the fog! A chemical minefield!" Sherlock said, and Greg instantly throws his arm across his face, trying to stop himself from breathing too much of the mist.

The hound stalks closer to the group, snarling.

"For God's sake, kill it! Kill it!" Frankland said, while the hound's movements become more jittery as if it's winding itself up to attack.

"Come on!" I said, as I aim Ebb and Flow in dual pistol form and fire three times at it while bullets fly past it and it flinches momentarily but then rises up and leaps towards us. "John!"

John's aim is truer and his bullets strike the hound accurately and throw it backwards. It squeals in pain and crashes to the ground, unmoving. John, Greg, and I watch it anxiously for any signs of movement, and Sherlock runs over to Henry and pushes him towards the hound.

"Look at it, Henry." Sherlock said.

"No, no, no!" Henry said, digging his heels in.

"Come on, look at it!" Sherlock said, shoving Henry forward determinedly and bullies the young man forward until they can both clearly see it lying on the ground.

In Sherlock's torchlight it is evidently nothing more than a huge dog. Henry stares at it for a moment and then turns back to where Frankland is still holding his injured face while Greg has his hands over his mouth as he tries to draw breath and come to terms with what he just experienced. Henry looks at Frankland.

"It's just ... You bastard." Henry said, hurling himself at the older man, he screams with rage. "You bastard!" Bundling Frankland to the ground, he screams into his face while John, Greg, and I run over and try to pull him off. "Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn't you just kill me?!"

Finally, John, Lestrade, and I manage to pull Henry up.

"Because dead men get listened to. He needed to do more than kill you. He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father, and he had the means right at his feet – a chemical minefield; pressure pads in the ground dosing you up every time that you came back here." Sherlock said, holding his arms out wide and spins slowly in a circle, gesturing around the Hollow. "Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once." He laughs with delight. "Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It's been brilliant."

"Sherlock …" John said, sadly.

"Really?" I asked, tilting my head.

"What?" Sherlock asked, turning to John and I.

John glares at Sherlock pointedly, "Timing."

"Not good?" Sherlock asked.

"No, no, it's – it's okay. It's fine, because this means …" Henry said, starting to step towards Frankland with me moving with him, ready to intervene if I should try to attack him again. "... this means that my dad was right."

Frankland gets up onto his knees as Henry still tries to move towards him. John, Greg, and I put a gentle hand onto his shoulders to keep him back.

"He found something out, didn't he, and that's why you'd killed him – because he was right, and he'd found you right in the middle of an experiment." Henry said, tearfully.

Frankland gets to his feet but before he can say anything there's a savage snarl from behind the group. Everybody spins towards the dog. The dog whines in pain but gets up off the ground. John aims and fires towards it twice and it goes down again. Frankland takes the opportunity of the distraction to turn and run off in the opposite direction. Like the single-minded idiot that he is, Sherlock runs right across John's line of fire, forcing him to lower his pistol, and chases off after the scientist. John turns and follows him up the slope.

"Frankland!" Sherlock said, and Frankland runs through the woods with the consulting detective, John, and I in hot pursuit, Greg and Henry a little behind the three of us. "Frankland!"

"Come on, keep up!" Lestrade said, looking at Henry.

They run on.

"It's no use, Frankland!" Sherlock said, angrily.

Reaching the barbed wire fence surrounding the minefield, Frankland doesn't hesitate and jumps over. His feet tangle in the wire and he falls to the ground on the other side. He jumps up and runs on a few yards but then stops abruptly when his foot thumps down onto a mine, which makes a distinctive clink indicating that he has activated its pressure pad. He stares down at his foot, shining his torch onto the mine underneath and realising that unless he remains completely still and doesn't lift any pressure off it, the mine will blow. As we hurry towards the barbed wire, he raises his head, sighs in resignation and deliberately lifts his foot. We skid to a halt and duck down as a massive explosion rips into the air. As the blast dies down, Henry sinks back against a nearby tree while Sherlock gazes reflectively across the minefield.

(Open POV)

CROSS KEYS INN…

It is now daytime and John is sitting at one of the outdoor tables with Jared. Billy brings out a plate containing whatever is the vegetarian equivalent of a full English breakfast and puts it on the table in front of John. Billy then brings out a plate containing French pastries and puts it out on the table in front of Jared.

"Mmm. Thanks, Billy." John said, happily.

"Yeah." Jared said, as Billy walks away, Sherlock brings over three mugs and puts one down on the table. "Thanks. Croissants and pain au chocolates."

"So they didn't have it put down, then – the dog." Sherlock said.

"Obviously. Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it." John said, tucking into his breakfast while Sherlock stands next to him and Jared and drinks his coffee.

"Well, why would they?" Jared asked, drinking his mocha. "It's a dog. Maybe they've grown attached to it."

"I see. That is true from the both of you." Sherlock said, looking between John and Jared.

"No you don't." Jared said, smiling.

"No, I don't. Sentiment?"

"Sentiment!" John said, angrily.

"Oh." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes and he sits down on the bench next to John and Jared.

"Listen: what happened to me in the lab?" John asked.

"Sherlock, tell him." Jared said, and Sherlock looks at John for a moment, then turns around and reaches for a box of sauce sachets, looking worried about how he's ever going to explain all this.

"No. John, d'you want some sauce with that?" Sherlock asked.

"I mean, I hadn't been to the Hollow, so how come I heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said." John said, looking at Sherlock.

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere, when you went to the lab, maybe." Sherlock said, rummaging through the box of sachets. "You saw those pipes – pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve; and they were carrying the gas, so ... Um, ketchup, was it, or brown ...?"

"Hang on: you thought it was in the sugar." John said, while Sherlock stares at him while trying to maintain a neutral expression. "You were convinced it was in the sugar."

"Penny in the air…" Jared said, as Sherlock looks away again.

"Better get going, actually." Sherlock said, looking at his watch. "There's a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want …"

"And the penny drops!" Jared said, and John turns his head away as he begins to realise the horrible truth.

"Oh God. It was you, Sherlock. You locked me in that bloody lab. And that's why you wanted Jared to time travel ahead to not interfere with it." John said.

"I had to. It was an experiment." Sherlock said.

"An experiment?!" John exclaimed, furiously.

"Shhh." Sherlock said, looking at people sitting nearby.

"I was terrified, Sherlock. I was scared to death." John said, quieter, but still furious.

"I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore." Sherlock said, while John sighs in exasperation. "It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions – well, literally."

"Did you record it?" Jared asked, as Sherlock took out his phone to show him. "Thanks."

Baskerville…

Sherlock is alone in a room from where he can monitor the lab. Lazily sitting in a chair with his feet up on the table, he watches the screen in front of him which shows John racing across the darkened lab towards the cages as the 'hound' growls. A little later Sherlock wiggles his feet comfortably on the desk while John breathes panic-stricken into his phone. John can't be seen on the screen because he's hidden inside the cage.

"It's in here with me." John said, whispering over phone.

"All right. Keep talking. I'll find you." Sherlock said, into his phone with there being a momentary silence before talking into his phone again. "Keep talking!"

"I can't, it'll hear me." John said, talking over the phone.

"Tell me what you're seeing!" Sherlock said, switching on a small recorder and holds it up to a nearby microphone.

Savage growling is played into the lab.

"I don't know, but I can hear it now." John said, over the phone.

CROSS KEYS INN…

"Thanks for recording that." Jared said, laughing a lot.

"Of course you would enjoy a recording of it. You weren't even there!" John said, angrily. "Sherlock, why did you lock me in there and record it for Jared's amusement?"

"Well, I knew what effect it had had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on an average one." Sherlock said, and John looks up from his plate. "You know what I mean."

John and Jared gets back to eating.

"But it wasn't in the sugar." John said.

"No, well, I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas." Sherlock said.

"So you got it wrong."

"No."

"Mm. You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar. You got it wrong."

"A bit. It won't happen again."

Sighing, John continues eating, then looks round, "Any long-term effects?"

"None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will." Sherlock said.

"Think I might have taken care of that already." John said.

"Sherlock. Your brother." Jared said, while Sherlock snorts laughter, then looks across to a nearby table where Gary is pouring coffee for two other customers. "Did you forget about him?"

"No." Sherlock said, smiling apologetically across to John and Jared, who puts their mugs on the table and stands up. "I haven't."

"Where're you going?" John asked, looking at Sherlock.

"Won't be a minute. We gotta see a man about a dog. Let's go, Jared." Sherlock said, smiling down at John, he turns and walks away with Jared.

"Yeah. Not looking forward to this." Jared said, frowning.

Cell…

Jim Moriarty sits silently and calmly with his eyes closed in the middle of a small windowless concrete-lined cell. In an adjoining room, Mycroft walks towards the other side of the one-way mirror which Jim is facing, and narrows his eyes as he looks closely at the other man.

Some time afterwards, the door to the cell is unlocked and Jim opens his eyes but does not turn around as Mycroft walks in.

Later, Mycroft has left the cell again. A man in a suit has opened the cell door and has walked inside.

"All right. Let him go." Mycroft said, through a speaker.

Jim turns and casually strolls out of the cell. Behind him, the man turns and looks around the room. On almost every plain concrete panel of the walls, Jim has somehow carved a single word into the cement. In different sizes and at different angles, the word repeats all around the cell – and the word is SHERLOCK.

And with the dust which was loosened by the carving, Jim has scratched Sherlock's name backwards on the mirror so that whoever is watching him from the other side of the mirror will see the name the right way round.

The man in the suit turns and walks away, closing the cell door behind him.