Calliah Mullen is the sister to Irene Adler and has always been called the ugly sibling. After hearing it for so long, Calliah believes it and cuts her self to relieve the pain. When see meets Sherlock and John, her views on the world, herself, and her sister change. Will it be for the better or worse?


24. Chapter 24

Thank you Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan on livejournal for the transcripts. They help so much.

Here is the next part of The Hounds of Baskerville

I own nothing, except Calliah

In the morning, Sherlock and I went to Henry’s house. Sherlock knocks on the door. As soon as Henry opens the door, Sherlock surges though, being loudly cheerful. “Morning!” He says. I roll my eyes and smile at Henry softly. Sherlock comes back and clasps Henry by the shoulders. “Oh, how are you feeling?” Henry looked terrible. He looked like he hasn’t slept and was worried. I frown at him. Sherlock ducks his head down to get a better into Henry’s face.

“I’m…I didn’t sleep very well.” Henry confesses exhaustedly.

“That’s a shame. Shall I make you some coffee?” Sherlock asks. He looks up at the ceiling above the door and points. “Oh look, you’ve got dump!” He grins falsely at him until Henry turns his head to look at the ceiling, then drops the smile and turns and walks away towards the kitchen. I chuckle softly and follows him. Hurrying over to the cupboards, he starts opening and closing each one rapidly. Finally he finds the metal jar that he’s looking for and takes it out, rummaging inside it while he elbows the cupboard door closed. Tucking something inside his coat, he goes over to the sink and picks up a couple of mugs, taking them over to the central island just as Henry tiredly wanders in.

“Listen… last night.” Henry starts. Sherlock gives him that horrifying attempt at a friendly smile while he takes the top off the coffee tin. I sit down and chuckle. Sherlock cannot smile. “Why did you say you hadn’t seen anything? I mean, I only saw the hound for a minute, but...” Sherlock has been dumping spoonfuls of coffee into the mugs without even looking, his eyes locked on Henry’s, and now he slams the coffee tin down onto the surface and steps closer to him, his eyes back to their normal intensity.

“Hound.” Sherlock says.

“What?” Henry asks.

“Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?” Sherlock asks.

“Why – what do you mean?” Henry asks.

“It’s odd, isn’t it? Strange choice of words – archaic. It’s why I took the case. “Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.” Why say “hound”?” Sherlock says.

“I don’t know! I…” Henry says.

“Actually, I’d better skip the coffee.” Sherlock says. He flares out of the kitchen.

Henry sighs wearily. I look at him as I get up. “Sorry about him. He is going through a lot. He will fine soon.” I say and then leave.

Later, Sherlock and I are walking back through the village but Sherlock 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. I keep walking and smile at John. He smiles softly and I sit by him. Sherlock goes through the kissing gate and walks along the path towards John, who looks up as he hears him approach. His expression becomes uncomfortable as he tucks his notebook into his pocket. Grimacing briefly, Sherlock stops in front of him, also looking awkward. “Did you, er, get anywhere with that Morse code?” Sherlock asks.

John gets down and helps me down. “No.” he starts walking and I walk with him.

“U, M, Q, R, A, wasn’t it?” Sherlock asks. John and I keep walking and I hear Sherlock following. “UMQRA.”

“Nothing.” John says.

“U.M.Q…” Sherlock starts to say.

“Look, forget it. It’s… I thought I was on to something. I wasn’t.” John explains.

“Sure?” Sherlock asks.

“Yeah.” John says.

“How about Louise Mortimer? Did you get anywhere with her?” Sherlock asks.

“No.” John says.

“Too bad.” I say.

“Did you get any information?” Sherlock asks. I chuckle.

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 explains.

“Funny doesn’t suit you. I’d stick to ice.” John says and I laugh.

“John…” Sherlock says and I hear the pain in his voice. I look back and frown.

“It’s fine.” John says.

“No, wait. What happened last night ... Something happened to me; something I’ve not really experienced before ...” Sherlock says.

“Yes, you said: fear. Sherlock Holmes got scared. You said.” John says.

Sherlock catches up to us, takes a hold of John’s arm and pulls him round to face him. I stop and turn to the boys. “No-no-no, it was more than that, John. It was doubt. I felt doubt. I’ve always been able to trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes, until last night.”

“You can’t actually believe that you saw some kind of monster.” John says and then looks at me. “You either Calliah.”

“No, I can’t believe that.” Sherlock says and John looks back as Sherlock grins 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 says and walks away from us. Sherlock turns and calls after him.

“Listen, what I said before, John. I meant it.” Sherlock says. John stops and turns to us. “I don’t have friends.” He bites his lip briefly. “I’ve just got one.” I look at him. John looks away as he takes that statement in for a moment, then he nods briefly and glances back at Sherlock.

“Right.” He turns and walks away.

“And then what am I?” I ask.

“My family.” He says and I grin.

“John? John!” Sherlock calls after John and starts chasing him. I groan and follow. I shouldn’t have brought heels on this trip. Never listening to ‘Anthea’ again. “You are amazing! You are fantastic!”

“Yes, all right! You don’t have to overdo it.” John says, not stopping.

Sherlock and I catch up to John and Sherlock walks backwards in front of us. “You’ve never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable.”

“Cheers… What?” John asks. Sherlock turns around and walks beside John, taking out his own notebook. I needed to get a notebook.

“Some people who aren’t geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others. Sherlock explains and I laugh.

“Hang on – you were saying “Sorry” a minute ago. Don’t spoil it. Go on: what have I done that’s so bloody stimulating?” Sherlock stops just outside the pub door and turns back to John and me, showing what he has just written in his notebook:


“Yeah?” John asks.

Sherlock pulls back his notebook and writes in it again. “But what if it’s not a word? What if it is individual letters?” He shows us the notebook and now it reads:


“You think it’s an acronym?” John asks.

Sherlock puts his notebook away. “Absolutely no idea but…” He turns towards the pub door and trails off when he sees a familiar figure standing inside at the bar. 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. Sherlock storms into the pub. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Greg!” I smile and rush over. I had become good friends with Greg over the year.

I hug him and he hugs back. “Hello doll.” He looks at Sherlock. “Well, nice to see you too. I’m on holiday, would you believe?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Sherlock says.

Greg takes off his sunglasses off as John walks over. “Hullo, John.”

“Greg!” John says.

“I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?” Greg asks us.

“I’m waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?” Sherlock asks.

“I’ve told you: I’m on holiday.” Greg says.

“You’re brown as a nut. You’re clearly just back from your ‘holiday’.” Sherlock says.

“Yeah, well I fancied another one.” Greg says and tries to look nonchalant.

“Oh, this is Mycroft, isn’t it?” Sherlock asks. I smiled, Mycroft was worried.

“No, look…” Greg starts to say.

“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 says. I bust up laughing.

“That’s his name.” John explains.

“It is?” Sherlock asks, frowning.

“Yes – if you’d ever bothered to find out. Look, I’m not your handler ...” Greg says and turns away to pick up his pint from the bar. “... and I don’t just do what your brother tells me.”

“Yes you do.” I say softly.

“Actually, you could be just the man we want.” John says.

“Why?” Sherlock asks.

“Well, I’ve not been idle, Sherlock.” John says and rummages in his trouser pocket. “I think I might have found something.” He shows us a sale invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies. “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.”

“Excellent.” Sherlock says.

John looks at Greg. “Nice scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy.” Sherlock and Greg exchange a look, and John slaps his hand down on the bell on top of the bar. “Shop!”

Later we are in a small Snug next to bar. I was standing with Sherlock at the coffee machine. “Time to test my theory. Are you doing okay?” He asks me.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.

“Well, you were freaked out about that thing. Even if it was drugs, it can be scary.” Sherlock explains.

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. I just hate that I can’t help. I feel so… unhelpful. Extra baggage that you two don’t need.” I say and sigh.

“You aren’t.” Sherlock says as he puts some of Henry’s sugar into the mug.

“Yeah. I might just go upstairs and sleep. Okay?” I ask.

“Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?” Sherlock asks. “Should I get Mycroft to come get you?”

“No. I just need to sleep. I’ll text you and find out where you are. I’ll meet up with you then.” I say and smile at Sherlock.

“Okay…” he says softly. I go up to the room and lays down. I curled up and thought about calling Mycroft but thoughts against it. He didn’t need me to bother him. I sigh and try get my thoughts under control. I was useful. The boys liked having me around. I kept thinking this but my brain wasn’t agreeing with me. I had a little voice saying that I was worthless. Mycroft would give up on me. Sherlock thought I was an idiot. John felt pity for me. I sit up and bring my knees to my chest and start to rock.

“Not an idiot. Useful.” I say softly.

I keep repeating this for a while as I rocked. I close my eyes and suppress a sob.

Useless. Idiot. Hindrance.

These words were running through my head.

I get up and grab my make-up bag. I rummage through it and find what I was looking for. My blade. I shallow and go into the bathroom. I sit on the edge of the tub and think about where to do it. I decide on my stomach and stand up. I move my shirt up and make a cut on the side of my stomach. I sigh in relief and close my eyes. My brain was finally shutting up. I make a couple more and lean against the sink and smile. Finally, quite. I turn around and clean up. I felt a lot better and I could even take a nap now. I didn’t sleep well because of the hound, but I could sleep now. I lay down and fall asleep.

I wake up to my phone ringing. I groan and answer it. “Hullo?”

“Why aren’t you with the boys?” I hear.

I rub my eyes, still half-asleep. “Who is this?” I asks and yawn.

“Your boyfriend.” I hear and I smile.

“Croft. How are you?” I ask.

“I’m fine. Why aren’t you with Sherlock and John?” He asks.

“I was tired. I needed some more sleep.” I say and sit up. I groan slightly. I look down and see blood on my shirt. Shit. They opened up.

“Are you okay?” Mycroft asks.

“Fine. Amazing.” I tell him. I get up and go to the bathroom. I set my phone down and turn it on speaker. “Just needed some alone time. You know Sherlock can me.”

“Yeah. I just… you are doing okay? In all aspects?” Mycroft asks. He was worried about me cutting. I hated lying but I couldn’t tell him.

“I’m fine Croft. I swear.” I tell him and take off my shirt. I turn on the water in the sink. “I need to get ready and go meet the boys okay?”

“Okay… Call me later?” Mycroft asks.

“Of course. Love you.” I say softly.

“Love you too.” He says and I hang up.

I sigh and clean myself up. I text John and ask where they are at. He tells me Baskerville. I nod and get dressed and head on my way.

I get to Baskerville and find the boys in a lab. “Hullo.” I say and smile at them. Sherlock was looking into the microscope and John was sitting on a stool with his head propped on his hand, gazing blankly into space. Stapleton was standing near John.

John looks over at me. “Calliah. Where were you?”

“Didn’t Sherlock tell you? I went and took a nap.” I tell him.

“Oh yes. Come sit. Sherlock was just testing something.” John tells me and I go and sit by him. When I get up on the stool, I groan. The cuts were still sore. John looks at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Perfect.” I say and look at Sherlock. I see that he is staring at me. “What?” He shrugs.

“It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you’re interested.” Stapleton tells us.

“What?” John asks.

“In the rabbits.” Stapleton says.

“Mmm, right, yes.” John says.

“Aequoria Victoria, if you really want to know.” Stapleton says proudly.

“Why?” I ask.

“Why not? We don’t ask questions like that here. It isn’t done.” Stapleton says. “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 says cynically.

“I know. I hate myself sometimes.” Stapleton says mockingly.

“So, come on then. You can trust me – I’m a doctor. What else have you got hidden away up here?” John asks.

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

“And cloning?” John asks.

“Yes, of course. Dolly the Sheep, remember?” Stapleton says.

“Human cloning?” I ask.

“Why not?” Stapleton asks.

“What about animals? Not sheep… big animals.” John asks.

“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 explains.

Furious, Sherlock stands up, snatches the latest slide out from under the ’scope and hurls it against the nearest wall. I shriek and jump. “It’s not there!”

“Jesus!” John says.

“Nothing there! Doesn’t make any sense.” Sherlock says.

“What were you expecting to find?” Stapleton asks.

“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 explains.

“Sugar?” John asks.

“The sugar, yes. It’s a simple process of elimination. Calliah and 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. Now, we have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen apart from one thing: you don’t take sugar in your coffee.” Sherlock explains.

“I see. So…” John says.

“I took it from Henry’s kitchen – his sugar.” Sherlock says. He glares down at the microscope. “It’s perfectly all right.” I frown. So we weren’t drugged.

“But maybe it’s not a drug.” John says.

“No, it has to be a drug.” Sherlock says. He sits on the stool with his head buried in his heads. Now he lowers his hands a little but keeps his head bowed and his eyes closed. “But how did it get into our systems. How?” He slowly raises his head but still keeps his eyes closed. “There has to be something…” He turns his head. “…something…ah, something..” He takes a sharp breath through his nose, he turns and points imperiously at Stapleton. “Get out.”

“What?” Stapleton asks.

“Get out. I need to go to my mind place.” Sherlock explains.

“Your what?” Stapleton asks.

Sherlock has already turned his head away again and is staring ahead of himself. John gets off his stool and picks up his jacket. “He’s not gonna be doing much talking for a while. We may as well go.” John explains. I get up and go to John.

“Calliah. Stay.” I hear. I turn around and see Sherlock looking at me.

“Why?” I ask as Stapleton and John leave.

“I like you in here. Just walk around or do something.” Sherlock says and goes back to thinking. I sighs and walk around. This stuff was amazing. “Come here Calliah.” I hear after a while. I look at Sherlock and see him looking at me.

“You figure it out?” I ask as I walk over.

“Of course. But that doesn’t matter at the moment. Come here.” He says.

“Of course it matters.” I say as I get in front of him.

“Show me your stomach.” He says.

I step back. “W-What? Why?”

“Just show me.” He says.

“No!” I say and back up more. Sherlock gets up and walks towards me. “Get away.”

“Please Calliah.” Sherlock says. I walk back more and bump into a table. I look around but know I couldn’t escape. Sherlock gets to me and looks at me. “Calliah.”

I tear up and look anywhere but at him. “Go tell John what you found out.”

He slowly lifts my shirt and I try to stop him. He gets to the scars and takes a sharp breath. “Calliah.” He says softly.

I push him away and run out of the lab into John. “Calliah? What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing.” I say and wipe my eyes. Sherlock comes out and looks at me. “It’s nothing.” I say and smile at John.

“I need to go to Barrymore’s office.” Sherlock says and starts walking. John looks at me and follows him with Stapleton. I close my eyes and calm myself down. Sherlock wasn’t going to want me to do cases with him. John would pity me more. I sigh and follow them. 

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