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hanna scares chuck norris ([info]adaptordie) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2012-05-04 16:32:00

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Entry tags:hanna heller, sherlock holmes

WHO: Hanna Heller and Sherlock Holmes
WHAT: Hanna is injured. Sherlock tries to help.
WHEN: Mid-afternoon
WHERE: The X-Mansion
RATING: TBD
STATUS: In Progress

Although most of the people in the city seemed to have been recently affected with some strange change or another, thus far Hanna had, fortunately, managed to avoid such a thing happening to herself. While she was rather relived of that fact - particularly as she shuddered to think what would happen if she were changed in some way - she also found herself growing more and more restless. She knew there was every chance that she likely would have felt that way sooner or later even without the changes taking place around her, but she was fairly certain that the feeling had been sped up a bit by having the very few that she knew in the city suddenly either not themselves or preoccupied by those around them not being themselves. Regardless of the reasons, though, she had finally decided to do something to entertain herself and had wound up seeking out the one area of the mansion where she knew without a doubt that was possible.

The Danger Room was, by and far, her favourite part of where she was staying. Unlike the kitchen, where so many seemed to flock to escape others, the Danger Room was, more often than not, actually devoid of life. And, on those rare occasions when it wasn't, all she had to do was wait for whoever was using it to exit and then she was free to explore the various programs herself without worrying about being interrupted. Obviously, some of the programs were strictly off limits to her as they were designed for those with abilities that she didn't possess. However most of the ones in the database were right up her alley. And really, it wasn't as though she wasn't accustomed to being in situations a bit outside of her normal scope of abilities anyway. That was practically how her entire life up to date had gone.

Unfortunately, while Hanna was unquestionably talented at getting out of situations that most would never survive, she also was rather good at one other thing as well: forgetting her own limitations. For instance, most people who had been shot less than three weeks earlier wouldn't even dream about picking a program that really tested them in any significant form. However, Hanna wasn't most people. Fighting to survive came as second nature to her as breathing and she wasn't about to stop pushing herself to her absolute breaking point just because she happened to have a hole in her hip that wasn't fully healed.

So she'd gone into the Danger Room and selected a program that she probably shouldn't have selected. Then she'd spent the next hour fighting computer generated foes and figuring out ways to escape what appeared to be inescapable situations with nothing more than the tools around her, her own ingenuity, the gun in her hand and the clothes on her back. And finally, when she'd defeated the program in three very different, yet equally efficient, ways she exited the room.

Then she came to a complete stop. Sweat-soaked, limping ever so slightly, and with a patch of bright red blood coating the area of her left hip, she stared at the only other person in the hallway for a long moment before finally tipping her head in acknowledgement. "Hello," she murmured finally, unsure of what else to say or do.


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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-04 11:58 pm UTC (link)

When the man standing there didn't return her greeting but instead pointed out that she was injured, Hanna blinked then frowned in faint confusion. Slowly her gaze fell downward to her couple week old gunshot wound and she blinked again. Sliding her gun into the waistband of her pants, she pressed at the blood-soaked denim covering the wound then nodded, raising her gaze back to Sherlock.

"Yes, I am," she answered simply. There wasn't any wavering in her tone, nothing to indicate she was at all bothered by the injury. One of the perks of her genetic altering was a very high pain tolerance, although Hanna didn't realize as much. She simply knew she didn't hurt in ways that others she'd encountered did. The reasons for why that was so really didn't matter to her.

"There is a fully stocked medical facility at the other end of the corridor. That is where the bullet was removed upon my arrival here," she answered honestly after another second or two. Then she tilted her head to the side a bit, studying him closely for a heartbeat. "I do not recognize you. Are you new?" she asked curiously.

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-05 12:29 am UTC (link)
Well, that was good. At least it wouldn't take too long to get where her injury could be patched up. Not that he necessarily knew how to do anything more complicated than slapping a plaster on it, but with any luck, that would be the only thing that she'd need. "I suppose you could say that," Sherlock said at her question, gesturing towards the direction that she had indicated the medical facility was, motioning for her to go in front of him to lead the way.

"I'm not new to this city, but I haven't been staying here long. And certainly not regularly. My name's Sherlock," He said, figuring that getting the introductions out of the way would be the best method of going about this.

"Are you one of Charles's students?" Sherlock asked, figuring that the answer to that question was rather obvious. She was about the age that most of the people about here were, and really, why else would she be staying at the school? It was unlikely that she was hiding from threats to her life as well. "I had heard talk about them training down here. For something."

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-05 12:40 am UTC (link)

"My name is Hanna," she replied as she began making her way toward the lab without much preamble. "I am..." She hesitated, brow furrowing as she struggled with how best to explain what she was doing in the mansion. "A guest of Charles'. He has recently begun privately tutoring me in some subjects of interest, however."

Glancing at Sherlock, she explained simply, "I lack the proper social skills or experience to take classes with the others yet." If she was bothered by that fact, it certainly didn't show. "As for training, I cannot speak for the reasons for others but I was simply alleviating my boredom. I killed the reasons for my need to train shortly before I arrived here."

Once again, there wasn't any real emotion to her tone at all. Instead she sounded eerily neutral; she might as well have been discussing the weather for all of the inflection she provided. Reaching the door to the lab, she pushed it open and stepped inside, turning to give Sherlock room to enter as well. "Why are you staying here if you are neither student nor instructor, Sherlock?" she questioned with a slight furrowing of her brow.

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-05 02:36 am UTC (link)
Sherlock wasn't entirely sure how to react to her statements. His emotions towards what she was saying were mixed. He certainly understood what it was like not having the sort of social skills that were necessary for interacting with others. Not that his lack of them had allowed him to excuse himself from the interactions that were required in his youth, but he couldn't help but have a certain appreciation for Charles's willingness to allow her to take lessons until she got used to others. Not that Sherlock expected those here to be as cruel as the individuals he had had to deal with during his childhood, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. But then there was the other statement to consider, so casually dismissing killing, possibly murder, as something that was just a matter of life. Of course, her phrasing of it made it sound like a matter of self-defensive, so even as confusing as it was, Sherlock couldn't help the small blossom of amusement that bubbled up in him.

"Just because those reasons are dealt with is no reason to fall out of practice," Sherlock said with a bit of a smile. "I'm sure having a place to keep sharp probably helps in the long run," He said, stepping into the lab and heading towards the storage areas to see if he could find what was needed to both clean and doctor the wound.

"And I'm a guest as well," Sherlock said with a bit of a smile. "Or, well, a friend of someone who is a guest that I've been keeping company lately," Pausing for a moment, Sherlock pulled out the bandages and antiseptic before turning back to Hanna. "And, well, I've been avoiding my own place."

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-05 04:02 am UTC (link)

"Why?" Hanna asked, forgoing every other bit of their conversation and focusing on the last thing he'd said. Her question was direct, as was typical for her, and her gaze was locked firmly on him as she waited for a response she wasn't certain he would provide. To clarify what she was asking, wholly unaware that it might instead come across as encouraging him to answer, she immediately followed up with a curious, "The place you stay is your own. Why would you avoid it? Did something happen there that you wish to forget?"

More often than not, when she began to pry in the lives of those around her, she was shut down by some vague answer that left her even more confused and curious than she'd been to start with. However Hanna wasn't going to stop asking her questions. She had been raised with the belief that knowledge was power and there was very little that could convince her that wasn't true.

Although she did make a point of unbuttoning her jeans and lowering them down, then raising her shirt up to reveal the bloody gauze that covered her bullet wound so he could treat it. There was no hint of embarrassment present at her dropping her pants to reveal her panties and raising her shirt to just below her breasts. There was zero indication that she thought there was a thing wrong or taboo with what she was doing. She was apparently injured, even if the pain was little more than a mild nuisance to her, and he was willing to help. She saw no reason to refuse for something as inconsequential and wholly foreign to her as modesty.

"The bullet was fired from a gun that was low calibre, causing minimal damage. Marissa Wiegler was a good shot under typical circumstances. I do not believe she meant to kill me," Hanna said, for lack of anything else to say, in an effort not so much to explain her injury but rather to fill the silence that she'd left in her wake.

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-05 04:21 am UTC (link)
"It was more like, I lost someone that's supposed to be there," Sherlock said, knowing that his answers were being driven by the natural honesty affecting him at the moment, but he wasn't entirely sure that he would deny the girl such answers even if he had the options to. It wasn't as though she could use them against him, and she had told him about herself without a hint of hesitation. It really only seemed fair. "He was sent back home, and I don't really like having to stay in the place without him. It's easier being somewhere that there are a lot of people around. Even if I only know a few of them. It's the illusion of company, all the same."

As little embarrassment as Hanna showed in the actions of dropping her pants and lifting her shirt, Sherlock was equally as lax about his reaction to such things. While he knew most men his age, perhaps other than John since he was a medical doctor and dealt with things like this anyways, would be trying to divert their eyes and sputtering at the sight, he moved to set to work, clearing away the blood soaked gauze and cleaning up the area of the wound just to make sure that the sweat from her workout didn't irritate it, before putting the replacement plaster in place.

"I had been staying at another friend's place, but she had to move here for added protection so I came as well. I haven't been told I'm not unwanted yet, so I'm assuming I've yet to wear out my welcome," Sherlock said, fastening the bandage in place before stepping back and glancing up at her description of the wound. "No. Such a wound wouldn't be fatal, but it was definitely in an area intended to cripple or at least reduce motor function. If I had to take a guess, I would say whomever fired was trying to keep you from running away."

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-05 04:41 am UTC (link)

If Hanna's tone had been surprisingly neutral thus far, it was obvious that it became downright hardened as she spoke of the woman who had not only murdered her mother in cold blood but also killed the only father she had ever known as well. Blue eyes growing positively icy as whatever emotion she'd been feeling was abruptly cut off thanks to the changes in her very molecular structure, the girl bit out a simple, "She wanted me to work for her."

Saying nothing more for a moment, Hanna pulled up her pants the moment Sherlock was done. Then her expression shifted to a sincere, if slight, smile of gratitude. "Thank you for assisting me," she stated. Looking down at the bloody bandage he'd removed, she grew contemplative for a moment before looking back at him with an openly curious look that was normally found on very young children.

"Why are you keeping the place where you live if it is filled with so many bad memories?" she asked. "Why not simply move? I don't understand."

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-05 05:09 am UTC (link)
The change was sudden and palpable. Particularly for someone like Sherlock who was used to watching for such things. Little ticks and social cues often fell outside of his range of understanding, but sudden emotional shifts, restraint being exercised to keep things from bubbling over, those things he was all too familiar with. He had similar feelings towards Moriarty. He'd kidnapped John, put him in direct danger, and even as much as Sherlock appreciated the other man's intelligence and ingenuity, given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to bring him to justice this time however it had to be done. "A rather drastic reaction to being turned down," Sherlock said with a bit of a lilt in his voice. "But I suppose the unhinged do tend towards overreaction."

Folding up the bloody bandage, Sherlock carried it over to the bin, tossing it in before turning to wash the drying blood off his hands, "I'm sure you could have managed yourself, but it's always simpler with things like that to have someone else put them in place. I'm sure anyone else in this place would have done the same," He said before her question turned him pensive.

"Because he might come back," Sherlock said. "It's been known to happen around here. Someone leaves and then they return not long after. And I don't want to put myself in a position that will make things more difficult when he does return. And they're not really bad memories... I just don't like the emptiness."

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-05 08:15 pm UTC (link)

"Oh."

When most people said something as non-committal as 'oh', they tended to not know what else to say. Hanna's use of the word, however, was meant more as understanding. She didn't pause for very long after saying it, either, before continuing with, "So as you wait, you stay here, with a friend, believing should the other person return your friend will understand your sudden desire to go back to your own home and won't be angry or hurt that you used them in the interim." She stared at him, unblinking and certainly not judging. Merely putting to words the way she saw the situation.

"You must have a very understanding friend," she finally surmised. A pause then, thoughtfully, she tacked on, "That is good. It's been my experience that most aren't as fortunate."

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-06 01:22 am UTC (link)
Using? Sherlock had never considered what he had been doing could be interpreted as using. He certainly hadn't meant it that way, and there was a strong spike of worry in him that that was how Irene felt about it. Sure, he would leave if John returned, if only to settle his friend back into this place, but that didn't mean that he would completely ignore her in favor of John. He never had. Not here. "I hope she wouldn't feel like that," Sherlock said, blinking a bit at Hanna before frowning. "But I might do with making sure she knows that that isn't my intention," He said, glancing back up at Hanna before offering her a bit of a smile at her last statement.

"I have been rather fortunate," Sherlock said, feeling a bit odd that it had taken him so long to really realize just how many people he had and how they supported him. Until John, Sherlock had always assumed that he was alone, that everyone in his life was little more than the inanimate objects that surrounded him, tools to be used in his work, but now, he saw them all as so much more. And if anything, that made it a little easier for him to see the potential in everyone that he came across. "What about you? Have you gotten acquainted with anyone since arriving?"

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-06 03:53 am UTC (link)

Hanna thought for a moment. She didn't look away, didn't frown in contemplation or even blink. She simply stared up at Sherlock with a blank sort of look on her face before answering his question once she was fairly certain she had an accurate answer.

"Charles and Erik," she stated. "Erik removed the bullet from my wound and Charles invited me to stay here rather than on my own." She tipped her head to the slight ever so slightly. "No others, however," she finally admitted, clearly not bothered by such a thing even in the slightest. "I have spoken with some of the others within the house but only in passing. I wouldn't say we were truly acquainted."

Straightening up a bit as though something had just occurred to her, Hanna quickly reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper with a bit of blood covering part of it where her wound had seeped through her jeans. Frowning down at the item, which was clearly well-worn, she ran her thumb along the edge then looked back to Sherlock.

"Is it possible to remove blood from paper?" she asked, the first real touch of emotion she'd shown causing her voice to waver a bit. "Not entirely, of course, but so as to ensure the paper can be opened without tearing or sticking?"

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-06 04:12 am UTC (link)
Well, two was better than none. Especially if what she said about not having the sort of social skills that most people expected in order to make friends was true. Though, really, that hadn't stopped him here, but he supposed he had a bit of a leg up with having the ability to get a career and form bonds that way. It did make things a lot easier than having to actually approach people on his own and try and engage them in dialogue that he found neither stale nor irritating. Of course, after thinking that, Sherlock realized that the two of them had been talking for some time yet, and he still didn't feel the urge to try and make some sort of swift exit from the scene. Interesting.

Glancing down at the paper in her hand, Sherlock tilted his head to the side as he quietly inspected the document. "Most of that looks fresh. So removing it should really just be a matter of patience," Sherlock said, turning back to the cabinets and searching through them until he found a few cotton swaps, a bit of cotton crepe, and an eye drop bottle. Emptying the drops into the sink, Sherlock rinsed and refilled the bottle with a bit of water before clearing off one of the counters and turning back to Hanna.

As he held his hand out for the document, he did so carefully. It was obvious just how much it meant to her from her actions, and as much as he might have been brisk about it had time been a factor, he was more than willing to be delicate about this situation. "Trust me. I'm a professional," He said, a hint of what he hoped was reassuring in his voice. "I shall take care."

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-06 04:43 am UTC (link)

Hanna watched him with a curious glint in her eyes as he gathered all of the things presumably needed to remove blood from paper. When Sherlock asked for the document, however, she hesitated. Her expression was still neutral but it was clear from the way she pulled the paper a bit closer to herself that she wasn't at all certain that parting with it was something she wanted to do.

Peering down at the paper at his reassurances that it wouldn't come to any harm, she tightened her grip on it ever so slightly. Then, with a slight nod as she looked back to him, Hanna held it out for him to take. "It is all I have," she explained quietly as he took the blood-stained document from her. "There is no other copy of it in existence."

She wasn't entirely positive that was true, of course, but Hanna was fairly certain the CIA wasn't in the habit of leaving information about top secret experiments lying about, especially in duplicate form. She could be wrong, but she highly doubted it.

"What is your friend's name who is staying here?" she asked after a second or two, deciding that maybe talking about him would help put her a bit more at ease. It was a long shot, but it was better than standing there, completely mute, while waiting with trepidation.

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-06 05:10 am UTC (link)
Sherlock understood what that meant. The only copy meant that preservation was paramount, and he was more than certain that he could manage it without too much trouble. Laying the paper out on the counter, he carefully used the cotton crepe to sop away the worst of the blood on the outside, pulling the still wet blood away with careful applications of the rag, just firm enough to clear the page but lightly enough not to risk tearing it. "We'll have to clean it up the best that we can, then," Sherlock said, glancing back over his shoulder at her with a bit of a smile. "And then make a few copies. Just in case," He said before laying the soiled crepe out on the counter and picking up one of the swaps.

"Irene Adler," Sherlock said, holding the swap over the sink as he soaked it with a few drops from the bottle before turning his attention tot he edges of the document, gently wiping the blood away to make sure that the fold was free from anything that would stick it together. "She's a good friend of Charles's as well, and he allowed her to stay here when a situation arose which made it unsafe for her to stay in her own home. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind the fact that I wished to keep her company as well," He said, pulling the cotton swap all the way down to the edge of the paper before leaning over to blow on it lightly, encouraged by the way that the two edges of the paper separated.

"We're getting there," Sherlock said, turning to Hanna with a hint of a smile.

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-06 05:36 pm UTC (link)

Hanna smiled slightly at his assurance that his attempts to fix the document were working. She wasn't sure how she felt bout making copies of the paper. After all, information was power and she would rather not risk everyone in the city seeing something so personal about her. However she decided not to comment on that uncertainty at the moment. If he fixed it, she would decide then. For now, she kept her focus on him.

Hearing the name of the woman he was here to visit didn't really surprise her. Charles had already explained how Colligo worked. She knew that there were people here who were considered fictional within her own reality. So she didn't blink in shock, accuse him of lying, or anything else along those lines. Instead she simply replied, "I had wondered if you were Sherlock Holmes or simply someone with parents who chose to name you after him. I suppose I needn't wonder, now."

Then she inched closer, peering down at the document. "Is it strange?" she asked after a second, looking back up at the man helping her. "Having so many know about you in a way that isn't accurate?"

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-06 11:14 pm UTC (link)
"Immensely," Sherlock said as he glanced back over his shoulder at her, his attention turned back to trying to scrub the blood off the inner areas of the document so that it could be fully opened without the two sides fusing to each other. "I'm barely a blip in the global chaos back in my own reality. Beyond Scotland Yard and those who hear about me through word of mouth, I may as well not exist. To suddenly have a rather enamored crowd of admirers here who have some sort of expectations for me is a bit more than I'm used to," He said, scrubbing back towards the areas of the document before pulling back and studying it for a long moment. "I think that might do it."

He said the words as he picked up the bit of paper, blowing on it lightly to dry the slightly damp areas before gently pulling at the two sides and laying it open.

His eyes glazed back and forth over the results, a bit stunned at what was presented in front of him. The classified government document, CIA from the stamp, was outlining a set of genetic results that, well, that didn't look the least bit natural in Sherlock's understanding. He knew well enough how to read out of these print outs, and there were a number of anomalies that jumped out in his mind's eye immediately. And while, normally, he might have kept quiet about it, his mind and the honest being forced onto him just wouldn't allow it. "Are these...your genetic markers?"

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-07 04:51 am UTC (link)

Hanna might have said more on his answer to her question, in fact part of her wanted to say more. However before she could do so, he'd managed to get the paper open and she promptly forgot about everything else as she anxiously moved closer and peered down at it to make sure it was still in one piece. She sighed a breath of relief and was about to thank him when he, instead, asked about the contents.

"Yes," she answered as she met his gaze directly. Her expression was neutral but her eyes shone with wariness as she stared at him. "They..." She paused, not sure of the best word to use, and finally settled on, "experimented on me when I was still inside my mother. It was part of a program they developed." Her blue eyes shone brightly as she admitted, "Later, they decided to end the program and destroy the evidence."

She didn't specify that both she and her mother were the evidence in question. If he was really Sherlock Holmes, as he claimed, such a statement wouldn't be necessary. Instead, she simply explained, "Marissa Wiegler was the woman responsible for properly closing down the program. She failed in her assignment."

Pausing, Hanna hesitated and frowned ever so slightly with faint worry. "Are my genetics very troubling?" she asked bluntly. She honestly wasn't sure and was curious as to what someone who wasn't close with her would have to say about them. Particularly someone who tended to react with logic rather than emotion.

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-07 05:27 am UTC (link)
Genetic experimentation in the womb. With what looked like some impressively complex results from what this document had to say. Sherlock wasn't surprised that the Americans had worked on something like this even if it was only relative to her reality. Americans always did set their sights a little too high and then decide when the responsibility got to be too much that they'd ditch it on someone else or get rid of it entirely. Shoot first, ask questions later if at all. But all the same, he had to admit, this work was remarkable. Why anyone would want to destroy it, he couldn't for the life of him understand.

"Troubling isn't the word that I would use," Sherlock said, looking over at her with a smile as he laid out the paper on the counter to remove the rest of the stains that covered up bits of the document that were vital to the information it displayed. "This is fascinating. Far more than anything I ever expected to see in my lifetime. You are, without exaggerating anything, a perfect specimen. More perfect than even the homo superior that inhabit this building and claim to be the next step of humanity," He said, glancing back at her. "You're stronger. You're faster. You're improved in every area. There are no flaws or mutations that would inhibit your health. You will probably live twice as long as any of the rest of us as long as you don't have a fatal accident. Even then, you will probably be able to survive far more than the average individual might."

Running the crepe back over the paper and smiling a bit as he managed to reveal the rest of the information. There were still some stains left on the paper, but other than that, everything was visible. Turning back to Hanna, Sherlock held the paper back out to her. "I can see why you consider it so important."

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[info]adaptordie
2012-05-07 09:22 pm UTC (link)

Hanna blinked in faint surprise, not certain what to make of the things he was saying. None of it came as a shock to her, of course. Upon discovering the document, she had done enough research to know what her genetics entailed. Her father, before his death, had also explained a few areas in greater detail. However, aside from him and the woman who was responsible for making her an orphan, no one else had ever really delved into such detail with the things she could do and seemed pleased about them.

Staying silent until he held the paper back out for her to take, she glanced down at it then back over to Sherlock. "With time, memories fade," she finally said. Tipping her head at the paper, she added, "Should the day come that I forget, this will serve as a reminder. Not of who I am but of what they meant for me to be." She glanced down at the paper once more. "The perfect soldier."

She neatly folded the paper and slid it into the other pocket of her jeans so as to avoid the blood this time. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I appreciate your assistance as well as your candor."

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[info]ifimnothungry
2012-05-08 12:11 am UTC (link)
"The candor was hardly standard operating procedure," Sherlock said with a bit of a shrug. "But I suppose sometimes absolute honesty really is the best policy," He said as he moved to wash his hands and dispose of the items that he'd used to clean the document. Clearing off the counter, Sherlock turned back to Hanna and offered her a bit of a smile. "And that may be what you were meant for, what you were made for. But it doesn't have to be what you end up as," He said. "Most thought I would end up as scientist or a scholar, but I wanted to be neither. I made myself what I am. That's the one benefit of having the freedom to do what we choose. We don't have to be anything that we don't wish to."

Turning towards the door, Sherlock moved to hold it open for Hanna, "And now that that's all taken care of," He said. "No real reason to linger around in a place like this."

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