Different Yet the Same

by darbigrayl

Sherlock is quite annoyed by the fact that when another crazy serial killer threatens London, Lestrade keeps him out of the loop, claiming they won't be needing his help on this case. He doesn't really believe that they could solve anything without his help, but is proved wrong when it is in fact solved by somebody that would be exactly like him if they just weren't so different.

1. Chapter 1

"One new body has been found dead, in the case the police are calling 'Orationem Sculptura'. The last two victims have been found tied in a praying position with a single shot to the back of the head. Each victim has been found with a letter carved in to their chest. The most recent victim has been found with the letter "P" into their chest, making the current letters found (in consecutive order) "R", "E", and "P". The police have given us little information other than that on these cases but they were willing to tell us that they are on the case and they will hopefully be able to capture the criminal very soon."

John Watson placed down the newspaper letting out a quiet sigh as he looked up at Sherlock who wad his back to him. His arms are crossed against his chest, his hands clenched to the point where his knuckles were white. "I just don't understand why Lestrade hasn't called us yet" his voice is harsh, the noise obviously coming from behind gritted teeth.

John grunts as he looks back at the newspaper making a face, as he rereads the article, "It's been going on too long, there has to be a problem at Scotland Yard if they aren't calling us." His voice trailing off.

Sherlock spins around facing toward him, quickly changing the topic, not liking the fact that he's not needed. "Okay the letters have been R, E, and P, what could this criminal be trying to say…" He starts to pace back and forth in the room. "Reputation? Replaceable? No, no those couldn't be them..." The speed of his pacing begins to grow as he begins to think harder and he eventually sits in his chair his thumb rubbing his chin. His face seems to light up as he shoots out of his chair and before John can even speak Sherlock has on his peacoat and is running for the door.

"What the hell are you doing Sherlock?" He jumps from his chair and grabs his jacket swiftly following him as they run down the stairs.

"I'm going to the police station!" Sherlock yells as he rushes out the door.

John catches up to him outside, huffing and puffing as he stops next to him. "Why on earth would we be going there?" John shoves on his jacket with a gruff.

"I've solved the mystery." He says as he stops the incoming taxi.

"What?! How?!" John hops into the cab behind him and gives him a confused look.

Sherlock looks at John with a slight smirk on his face, "You'll find out when we get to the station."