[Here Sholmes is, wherever Kim is. He's brought a cup of tea for him, sitting down on the couch or whatever he's resting on. His expression is one of sincere concern.]
Are you feeling better? This is for you, by the way. Be careful. It's hot.
[Sure, let's say it's a couch. He's been napping on and off, it seems, but the sound of Sholmes approaching gets his eyes open again and he shifts up into a proper sitting position. Cecile, who was resting on his chest, hops up onto his shoulder.
He's removed the cloaks and his jacket, and changed into a clean T-shirt. His right arm has a few bandages along the forearm, while the left is heavily bandaged over the stump. It looks like a little colour has returned to his face.]
I appreciate it. [He takes the teacup. A moment passes, and he processes that he was asked a question.] The healing helped.
They had monitors everywhere, watching all the different worlds. Some of them, ones we know. Krankaz. Nerak. Ahnkeen. And they opened these holes in the... [His voice trails off, a peculiar look on his face as he reconsiders his words.] --no, maybe they were "windows"...?
[Kim nods. He pulls his satchel closer and from it, he produces a small device. It's hard to tell what it is, but it's tube-like, and small enough to fit in a pocket.]
I'm no great detective. I'm a regular, everyday police detective.
[It's said with a firmness that suggests he takes a sort of pride in being normal. But it looks like those words warmed him, despite what he's saying.]
And look how far you've come as a so-called "regular, everyday police detective". Look at how much you've helped others.
[He smiles, lightly.]
You're extraordinary just for making it through these circumstances with your head squarely on your shoulders in the first place, my dear fellow. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.
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week 6 day 5
Are you feeling better? This is for you, by the way. Be careful. It's hot.
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He's removed the cloaks and his jacket, and changed into a clean T-shirt. His right arm has a few bandages along the forearm, while the left is heavily bandaged over the stump. It looks like a little colour has returned to his face.]
I appreciate it. [He takes the teacup. A moment passes, and he processes that he was asked a question.] The healing helped.
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I'm...glad. But...goodness. What in the world did you have to live through, Lieutenant?
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We infiltrated a Magisterium laboratory, I believe. They were developing bombs there. And performing experiments.
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[Again, that name. That dreadful name.]
...Were there children there?
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They had monitors everywhere, watching all the different worlds. Some of them, ones we know. Krankaz. Nerak. Ahnkeen. And they opened these holes in the... [His voice trails off, a peculiar look on his face as he reconsiders his words.] --no, maybe they were "windows"...?
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[His eyebrows furrow.]
So they were behind the "windows"... [He murmurs, before raising his head.] Were they sending anything through those "windows"?
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And... I believe they were putting people in them, too. Experimentally. [What little colour had returned to his face is draining from it now.]
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[And....oh. His own face shifts to something simmering, upset.]
I wonder...if that explains our appearance in that world, all those weeks ago.
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[There's still a haunted look on his face as he thinks of the experiments, and the "windows." But he tries to put it aside for now.]
There were some worlds we hadn't seen yet, too. One that they called "the next place"... It might be where we'll end up going next.
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[He sighs. Yes. The windows, the worlds...]
[He stares down at his hands for a moment, before clenching them into fists.]
I suppose we'll finally meet them head on. Bring an end to all of this. These experiments need to stop, once and for all.
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... Yes.
We will. We might have what we need now.
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[He also looks at the missing left arm, that stump. His left metal hand clicks and whirrs.]
Is that what...you're referring to?
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The "guidance system" for a Dust Bomb.
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[...Somehow, even that little tube-like thing is...horrifying. Just from everything that went into it.]
Do we know where the bomb is?
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[His eyes narrow.]
Supposedly, the dead have one... Perhaps they're the ones who ought to have this.
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I heard that as well. I suppose we can give it to a Watcher who can deliver it in the right hands.
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How was he, by the way? [Since Sholmes just said he spoke to him.]
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[...]
He said your arm got torn by one of the "windows".
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Yes. [He holds the stump in front of himself.] The other half was left on the other side. In another world.
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[At least he died right after losing his own hand, so that sort of outweighed everything, but...]
It...it must have been terrifying.
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[Well, it's honesty week. He can't really downplay it.]
It's going to be hard to take notes tomorrow. Or... do a lot of things. God.
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[A hand to the shoulder.]
No one would think of abandoning a great detective like you.
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I'm no great detective. I'm a regular, everyday police detective.
[It's said with a firmness that suggests he takes a sort of pride in being normal. But it looks like those words warmed him, despite what he's saying.]
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[He smiles, lightly.]
You're extraordinary just for making it through these circumstances with your head squarely on your shoulders in the first place, my dear fellow. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.
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