I had a fantastic conversation with my genius friend about soul mates among other things and that's what inspired me to write this (though he made the relation between Batman and Joker! Which I shall explain a bit more in the ending Author's note of the last chapter…) So thank you dude! Love ya!
This fic will be broken up into just a several little chapters. There are no warnings to be made for this story, there are honestly (Despite the title) no pairings really, just an interesting look into Sherlock's brilliant mind. So with that said, enjoy!
I woke up to another average morning in 221B Baker Street. My flat mate, Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, was where I left him the night before, bent over some experiment that was spewing some horrid stench. I walked past him into the kitchen to get some breakfast. His experiment was boiling over, but he didn't seem to notice the strange liquid splashing up on his face. I couldn't see his eyes through his mop of dark hair. I shook my head hopelessly and said
"What did I say about doing your experiments in the kitchen, Sherlock? Mrs. Hudson will be furious if you stain that poor table anymore then you already have…"
He didn't respond, or even move he was so engrossed with the experiment. That didn't surprise me too much as it was his habit when was experimenting. I wearily shook my head with a sigh and started brewing some coffee for myself. I only turned back to my friend when his experiment began violently shaking and more of the ominous brew splattered onto his face. Now I knew something was wrong, very wrong. I turned off the Bunsen burner under his experiment and was relieved when the liquid simmered down. I shook my friend's shoulder lightly to get his attention, his head lolled to the side and a small snore escaped his lips. I laughed slightly; Sherlock must have fallen asleep at his work which was rather charming and surprisingly childlike of him. I gently shook him awake and got some coffee for myself and him.
He opened a single pale eye at me from behind his wild hair. He sat up, stretching and yawning as I cleared his strange experiment away and handed him his coffee and the sugar. He silently poured some sugar in his coffee and took a large drink. I left the room to get my medical kit once I saw the red welts growing on my friend's face from where his experiment splattered on him, which he seemed neither to care nor notice.
I came back with some cream for his face and sat down beside him. His pale eyes were staring off into the distance and he had a playful smile on his face. Without a word I began dressing the small welts on his face, I sometimes wonder how Sherlock got along without a doctor as a flat mate for so long.
He surprised me and said "This weak example of mine, it just proves my theory about Moriarty…"
I raised an eyebrow at that and continued rubbing the cream on the now shrinking welts "Oh? And what's that theory?" I could never have prepared myself for what his answer was
"Moriarty is my soul mate."