Disclaimer: I'd really like to own Sherlock, but I don't. Crap!
- I'm coming! - John screamed running down the stairs. The moment he was preparing to go out someone rang the doorbell. And with Mrs Hudson out of course he had to stop everything and go down, not Sherlock, who was lying on the couch watching the ceiling.
- Good morning, who... Oh, hi Mycroft -
- Good morning doctor Watson, I'd like to speak with my brother - the elder Holmes said politely.
- Sure - John was quite perplex. It wasn't Mycroft stile. Usually he just went inside with his pair of keys (doesn't matter how many times John changed the lock, Mycroft always had his own keys), greet politely, sit on an armchair and wait until someone (usually John) asked him what did he want. He never stayed outside waiting. And at this point he always called him "John", not "doctor Watson".
- Hello Sherlock - Mycroft sit on an armchair. Sherlock didn't even looked at him.
- Alright boys - said John - I'm going out, can I trust you or when I'll be back one of you would have killed the other? -
- Relax doctor Watson, we both are adults and we'll act like it. At least this time we'll do it for sure - John nodded and went out. In the flat the tension was palpable. Mycroft didn't smile and seemed to be something close to sad. Sherlock ignored him, deciding that the ceiling was far more important.
- Sherlock, listen to me, this time at least. It's important -
- I'm sure it is, but I won't do it anyway - Mycroft sighed.
- Please brother, it's... - Mycroft was interrupted by the sound of Sherlock's phone. The younger Holmes picked it up.
- Sorry Mycroft, I've got a case -
- Sherlock... -
- Bye bye brother - Sherlock ran out of the flat, tapping on his phone.
Got a case SH
And...? JW
Come to Hyde Park SH
I'm at work! JW
So? SH
I can't come now, or Sarah will kill me! JW
John, you're my blogger, technically you work for me and then for the clinic SH
John? SH
John? SH
JOHN! SH
Have I already told you today that I hate you? JW
You don't hate me SH
Shut up JW
Are you coming?
Yes. But don't you dare complaining if one day you'll have to pay the rent alone JW
Sherlock smiled. The ride to the park lasted other five minutes. He paied the cabbie and went were the corpse probably was. Lestrade saw him coming.
- Hey Sherlock -
- What do we have? -
- Woman, around the age of forty, brutally killed this night. No documents -
- How much did you stay here? -
- Almost two hours I think. Why? -
- Fantastic, now thanks to your idiots every proof the murderer could have left is probably distructed -
- Yeah. Here we are - Sherlock stared at the body.
- Hello, am I late? - John said, panting for the run he made for arrive there the earliest he could - Sherlock, you have to stop calling me while I'm at work, or I'll be in trouble one day, and... Sherlock? Hey, are you alright? - John stared at Sherlock. The black haired man was looking the corpse wide eyes, in a strange mix of what John recognized as shock, anger and even fear.
- How did you find her? - Sherlock asked. His voice didn't betray his emotions, only his eyes did. Also Lestrade noticed that something wasn't ok.
- A girl covered in blood appeared at the Yard. She said were to find her and that she was her mother. Then she remained silent, probably she's under shock. But Sherlock, is there anything wrong? -
- No, not at all - Sherlock esamined the corpse. She was tall, with long black hair. The murderer killed her with a knife, cutting her multiple times, and worst of all he drew her eyes, leaving two black, bloody holes.
- It's... Definetly desturbing - John said.
- Probably the daughter saw it all. She's ten probably, it's a very traumatizing thing to see - confirmed Lestrade.
- Lestrade -
- Yes Sherlock? -
- We've got a serial killer -
- W-what? -
- You heard me. This is not the first time he kills, and the victim wasn't designed. She had something that turned his killer instinct on, her eyes probably. I wanna talk with the daughter -
- Sherlock, she's under shock... -
- Of course, but I still have to speak with her, the sooner the better -
- Sherlock, tell me the truth. Are you ok? - John asked. The consulting detective was acting normal, he no more had that strange look in his eyes, but John knew he wasn't fine. His hand were trembeling - not very much, but they weren't totally still.
- I told you John, I'm alright -