Chapter Text
In truth, Barok had never planned on telling anyone about the true nature of his relationship with Albert. He was perfectly content with having his moments of happiness in secret, locked deep in hidden chests, contained behind closed doors, and blossoming in private gardens. But, a lot had changed in his life due to that fateful trial, chief among them his relation to the truth.
Disclosing the true Professor’s identity to the press had not been a pleasant experience by any means. Of course, with the support of his own living professor, it had been tolerable- but only just so. Both the papers and the people of London raked his brother’s name across the coals, and he was only a few paces behind. His heart ached for the dishonor that now came with Klint’s name, only soothed by the scarlet letters that reminded him that this was how his brother had always wanted it to be. Of course, he could not complain- it was best that the people knew the truth, that the web of secrets would no longer ensnare new prey.
Besides, it was only a fraction of the dishonor his apprentice had grown up with all his life. They both understood painfully well the weight that lies and deception could have on the soul, and the only way to alleviate it was not to back down from harsh realities. That was something their mutual friend had taught them, and something that they both kept close to their hearts and minds. Perhaps it was that mutual experience that softened Barok to the idea of telling his own small truth.
Of course, there was danger in exposing any secret- but after that trial, it seemed almost... Trivial? Of course, having... Relations with someone of the same sex was a scandal, but Barok supposed that, in the grand scheme of shocking news that his life had become, he was far less afraid of this story. It seemed so... Insignificant a secret in the face of everything else. Perhaps the world was not yet outwardly kind to it yet, but... At a point, he realized that the pain of the truth had wilted, and in its place a new feeling had grown: a wish to live truthfully.
There were even, surprised as he might be, people who stuck around him which he wanted to tell. The clarity he had felt after his accusal had not only exposed the darkness but also the light. He could now say he had those he felt like it was worth telling. Those he wanted to share his truth with, rather than simply fearing for what they might be hiding. Those he could honestly call... family and friends.
It was with that resolve that he began wondering who to tell first. After a pleasant morning helping Albert with his more... Unruly experiments, Barok considered where to spend the afternoon. Since a literal shock earlier had made his hair stand on end, he wanted nothing more than to go somewhere relaxing. Of course, there was no better place to sit down and think than across the table from his niece with a warm drink. He was truly blessed to have a living relative- he knew his apprentice was not afforded even that luxury. Though Barok was always concerned about bringing her harm, he knew there was nowhere safer than under the watchful eye of Herlock Sholmes in his infamous flat. Not only that, but... Well, the girl herself seemed to enjoy those quiet moments of tea time, and Barok could not deny her the simple comfort of partaking in meals with family.
In truth, it was one of life’s simple pleasures that he had forgotten how much he sorely missed. It was with those thoughts that he sipped his tea- though he knew a certain inspector would balk at the sight of Barok holding anything but a wine glass. Imagining that must have brought a small smile to his face, for Iris suddenly looked at him in elation.
“I saw your mouth curl up, just a bit! Did you like the tea? I made the special blend for relaxation you requested!”
He had almost forgotten how perceptive she could be. While wine was much more to his taste nowadays, Iris had brewed wonderful tea- there was a slight lemon aroma which might have made most pucker, but Barok found the slight tang enjoyable and refreshing. The rest of the herbs were fairly standard, but the ratios were mixed with both the sharpness of Iris’s mind and the softness of her heart. While the lemon kept him grounded, the earthy flavors helped ease the tenseness he often forgot he still held.
“It is exquisite as always, Iris.”
The small girl’s eyes- a lovely blue she had gotten from her lineage- sparkled with delight. Barok truly hoped she would always be able to find happiness so readily.
Suddenly, a jovial voice rang out, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, “why, if it isn’t the R-”
“Hurley... You know he’s Uncle Barry now...” Iris interrupted, a bit exasperated. Though Barok no longer felt cursed by the moniker now that the true Reaper had been exposed, Iris has been adamant that her father in particular stop using it. Though it was... Difficult to express at times, he felt a deep gratitude for the simple kindness.
The flat owner emerged from behind a fairly large cone- perhaps a voice-projecting device of some kind- before continuing. “Ah well, it matters not- to what do we owe the pleasure? Have you come with a case? And, preferably, also an advance for my fee?”
Barok shook his head, “I am afraid this is merely a social call. I came here to collect my thoughts on a matter over tea.”
The self-proclaimed- though after his theatrics in the trial Barok felt he earned the title- Great Detective merely stared at him with eyes that seemed to pierce his very soul. Though he felt indebted to Mister Sholmes for the role he played in exposing London's corruption, he still could not help but feel a bit of unease when that calculating gaze was turned on him. Donning a grin that masked his thoughts, Mister Sholmes responded with gusto, “I see! Then perhaps I shall have to gather them for you, that you might be inclined to pay for my services!”
Without waiting for a response, Barok found himself face-to-face with the detective. And not a moment later, that detective began speaking in the dramatic tone of voice Barok had come to respect, though he held on to a little annoyance.
“Well Barry, it seems you have a mystery of your own! For my eyes have grasped that... You came here to consider something about your life!”
Well, Barok had at least thought the man earned his title anyway. At some moments, particularly the current one, he found himself less sure.
“I would be impressed... Were that not what I had told you just a moment ago.”
The man seemed nonplussed though, and simply continued with a knowing strike of his hat. “Ah, but I have gathered more than that! For you see... I can tell that you came here deliberating a choice you are considering making... A choice, indeed, to reveal a truth!”
“...Daddy! There’s no time for games! If Uncle Barry has a secret, he should be allowed to tell us himself!”
The consideration of that young girl always astounded Barok. Though the strange actions and motives of her father might often leave him guessing, he knew for certain he had been a more-than-adequate caregiver, teacher, and role-model for her over the years. Still... He had been considering opening up anyway. And perhaps... Just this once, without the stakes of horrific crimes or terrible secrets, he could allow the detective his fun.
“I appreciate your concern, Iris. However... I came prepared with the idea of telling you both anyway. If the detective wishes to find out in his own... peculiar way, I shall not deprive him.”
For a fleeting moment, Barok thought he saw surprise flicker across Mister Sholmes’ carefully controlled expression. But, he recovered his gusto just as quickly, “well, an offer to deduce a Lord with his blessings- I can hardly refuse! Shall we, my dear?”
Iris carefully set down her teacup before leaping to her feet. “Oh, I’d be delighted!”
Mister Sholmes gave Barok a toothy grin before launching into his rehearshed speech, “then let me present Herlock Sholmes and Iris Wilson’s Logic and Reasoning Spectacular!”
Herlock got to his usual theatrics, spinning around and pointing at Barok. While he usually had disdain and a bit of apprehension towards the deductions that made light of gruesome situations, he found himself almost enjoying the ridiculous charade.
In his usual excited tone, Mister Sholmes began, “I said this earlier: you came to my abode because you were deliberating something. First, let me illuminate the reason why: you were feeling... Desolangry, as clearly evidenced by the fact you came alone and the awful marks adorning your face!”
Barok knew he had to get a word in, so he fell prey to the urge to analyze the predictably infuriating sentence. “What... Could ‘desolangry’ possibly mean?”
The detective only gave him a hopefully-feigned look of indignation. “Why, you don’t know? It is a combination of being desolate, which if you only have a genius 11-year-old for company you certainly must be, and angry, for the expression on your face can only point to barely concealed inner rage!”
Barok could feel his blood begin to boil, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a true deduction, he tried to quell the emotion. “First-of-all, while I am not as alone as you believe, I intentionally limited my company. It is simply easier to think with fewer distractions around.”
“Whatever do you mean? The more, the merrier I say!” Mister Sholmes simply gave him a patronizing grin, and Barok felt his defenses raise even higher.
With a bit less restraint, he half-shouted back, “second-of-all, you of all people ought to know your daughter makes for fine company.”
The detective seemed to have the wind taken out of his sails at that one, slumping over in apparent grief. He then snapped up, grabbed his pipe, and quickly assumed a thoughtful pose. “Indeed, I cannot deny that. I suppose I must admit that single deduction may have been flawed. But the rest-”
“Um, if I might!” rang out a cheerful voice. Barok had gotten so focused on her father’s antics that he had almost forgotten she was there. He composed himself and bowed slightly, urging her to continue. Mister Sholmes, to his credit, quickly retreated out of the proverbial spotlight to make room for her, the corners of his mouth turning up with a bit of rare genuine expression.
Iris began with a bright grin, pointing at Barok in an affectionately mimicked pose, “I believe... What Uncle Barry was feeling was not desolation, but perhaps simple apprehension? After-all, he did request that I make him a relaxing blend. Perhaps his nerves were getting the better of him!”
Barok could not help but feel his heart swell with warmth at his niece’s sweet and sharp words. “That is completely correct, Iris.” He tried to give her a smile, but he probably only managed half of one. Still, she seemed elated by the feedback.
“And... well, Hurley I’m not sure what you mean by the marks on his face... If you’re referring to the scars, they have been there for quite a while?”
Barok looked at the detective expectantly, but he simply stood by, idly watching the conversation. When it was clear his input was required, he blurted out, “quite so, daughter-dear! You have seen through to the heart of the matter as usual! So now, onto the second part of my deduction!”
Barok stifled a groan- he had forgotten about the other part. Still, a small part of him- one he was certain would never again see the light of day- was a bit curious at what nonsense the ‘Great Detective’ would come up with next.
“Onto the final part of my deduction: the truth you were deliberating about telling us. Indeed, there can only be one thing you are hiding: you, Barok van Zieks... Are broke! As there is no other reason you would refuse to employ my services" Herlock looked thoughtful for a moment before breaking out into his largest grin yet, "indeed, you came here seeking lodging- unfortunately, with Miss Lestrade and the young Mister Asougi occupying my attic, I'm afraid I'm fresh out of spare rooms!”
Barok did not even deign that with a response. He merely gave a quiet shake of his head and looked back at the more... Rational one in the room. Iris looked thoughtful for a moment, then began to speak, her tone of voice quickly morphing from patient to excited.
"Hurley... Uncle arrived here by carriage, you know? Where would he have gotten the money for one if he truly had none?"
"Well, perhaps he used his last few shillings for the ride, assured that if he begged and pleaded, we would take him in!"
Iris gave Mister Sholmes a weary look, responding, "while Barry is always allowed in our home... If he really needed a place to stay, don't you think he would have brought luggage?"
It seems the charade was slowly breaking down."Ah. Well, perhaps he-"
"And... Well, I think I may have grasped the truth of the matter, but... Are you sure you don't want to tell us yourself?" Iris turned her ravenously curious, but polite gaze towards him. Barok merely nodded back fondly.
"It would be an honor to see your wit in action, Miss Wilson."
Iris gave a small giggle and took that as her cue to continue. "Then... Allow me to present my own deduction! Earlier, when Hurley claimed you were lonely, you said you were not as alone as we thought... And now that I look at your hair, it seems to be a bit out-of-place!"
Mister Sholmes seemed tempted to offer his ludicrous idea about Barok's wealth one last time, but Iris sent him a slightly threatening smile before continuing. "The way your hair is standing on end... I remember my own hair doing the same as I was testing the appearance projection device. That tells me you were likely working with electricity... Which would mean... You're not alone, because you were working with Professor Bunnybrain earlier!"
Barok had nearly forgotten the morning’s mishap in all the chaos- he had thought no trace of the frizz remained, but as always, nothing got past the Sholmes family. The cheerful voice called out again, excitement clearly audible from her slightly hastened tone, “all of this points to the following: you are actually with-”
The girl gasped before finishing the sentence, as-if the implications had suddenly occurred to her. She looked pensively for a moment, then back at Barok, silently asking for permission. Barok tried very hard not to let the embarrassment show on his face while putting a hand on her shoulder approvingly.
Not a moment later, she squealed, “with Bunnybrain!”
Barok nodded, proud of her observational skills, but also of her in general. “Indeed, I am roma-”
“Of course, there would be no other way for you to summon a cab than on the dime of-”
Barok expected nothing else from the detective’s antics, but he could not help but let the perturbation show in his voice. “How many times must I tell you- I am not destitute!”
Mister Sholmes turned to him with his haughtiest smile yet. “Well, why in the blazes didn’t you say so earlier? I could have collected my fee up-front!”
Barok was genuinely a bit shaken by the question. Surely the detective did not intend to...
“Oh no, surely I DO intend to! I offered my services to you- I never said I did so for free! All this thinking works up quite an appetite, and as you know, I simply must have pie in order to-” Perhaps he had given the ‘Great Detective’ too much credit.
“DADDY!” Iris crossed her arms and flashed her own Great Pout, silencing her father with merely two syllables. Well, even if he gave Mister Sholmes too much credit, he could never give her enough- he supposed they balanced each-other out in the end.
“While I do not intend on paying you a fee for something so ludicrous... I am extending an offer for dinner at my estate, if you would like to accompany me sometime. You ought to be introduced to Albert in the proper manner befitting of his importance to me.” Despite the nonsensical charade, Barok had been raised with manners after-all. And... despite Mister Sholmes’ childish antics, he and his child were important enough for Barok to pay a visit to in the first place.
It seemed Barok’s mannerisms- or perhaps merely the temptation of food- finally ended the detective’s antics as he responded in a surprisingly serious manner. “Truly, old friend, I’m glad to hear you and the professor are doing well together... I will hold you to that pie, though!”
Iris chimed in at that as well, “oh, I’m so happy for you Barry! I suppose... This means I’ll have another uncle!”
Barok winced on reflex at that- he had not considered the implications quite that far. He contemplated correcting her about the politics of his situation, but something about her innocent smile told him it was alright to leave this one deduction uncorrected.