Chapter 1

Blue Loneliness Gets Dispelled By Detectives

New story, yes, sorry dudes!

Quote Of The Chapter - "A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew."

Alone. Alone. Always alone. Never together, always alone.

It hurts to be alone.

Alone… Sherlock says alone protects him.

The loneliest people are the kindest…

The saddest people smile the brightest…

The most damaged people are the wisest…

Oh god…

And all the Gods, and all the worlds began colliding on a backdrop of blue…

~Blue lips… Blue veins… Blue, the color of our planet from far far away…~

Sherlock looked up sharply when John walked into the door. "Where were you?"

John cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"We have a client." He pointed to the black haired woman lying on the couch, asleep. She had sweaty so-dark-black-it-was-blue hair that curled slightly, and she was clothed in a black jacket, grey sweatpants, and her face was badly bruised, blood leaking into her clothes. And she was deathly pale.

"Wh-who is that?!" John exclaimed.

"No idea. She was on the doorstep. The door rang, I found her when I opened the door. There isn't anything else to say."

"Wha- Yeah there is something else to say! What are we going to do with her?!"

"Talk to her. Your yelling has awoken her."

Sure enough, the girl sat up, wincing, and looking at them with hesitant purple grey eyes, whimpering upon seeing them.

"Oh god, I've gone insane."

*About an Hour Ago, Deidre POV*

I really wasn't sure why I had trusted the book I had been sent. It wasn't really an untrustworthy looking book, really. But seriously, I've never got sent… anything before!

My name is Deidre. It means sorrow. My nickname is Dei, like day. My name means sorrow because my mother went insane when she was pregnant with me. She died birthing me. So now they call me evil… It hurts me, yes, but… I never actually felt sad for my mother. I mean, I've never met her, how could I feel sorrow for the woman who went insane, who never said she loved me anyways.

So anyways, now to where I am at the moment. I was tracing my hand over the sides of the pages on the side, looking at the dark blue cover.

And my favorite color is blue.

I looked to the note again. 'Open this book so you can be happy. Open it soon…'

I swept my hair back, being careful to not to hurt my injuries further.

I shivered hard, and opened the book.

As black engulfed me, I welcomed the relief it brought, wishing to god the note would grant me that wish.

I don't want to be alone anymore.

*Back to Now, Deidre POV*

I took a shaky breath and looked at the 2 main characters of my favorite show, Sherlock. "Where am I?" I finally managed to whisper, watching the 2 carefully.

Sherlock watched me, deducing like a son of a female dog.

"My name is Deidre. I go by Dei." I watched as John got this realization look on his face and said, "I'm John, John Watson."

When Sherlock didn't speak, John added, "And he's Sherlock Holmes."

I looked to Sherlock again, and he looked about to speak.

But I interrupted him. "What's wrong? Is there something happening?" Silence met her question, then John said uneasily, "We just finished a case- oh sorry, we're detectives- and we found a very expensive jade pin."

The Blind Banker. Ok, got it. And in their life, there's cases in between the episodes, correct? So I'm correct in my assumption I don't have to go straight to The Great Game, even if it's my favorite episode.

I've seen every episode. Up until that last one that looked like it was done, but then Moriarty came up and… well, did you miss me?

"Miss Deidre, what is your last name?"

Don't have one, but what would he say if I told him that? So, random name.

"Renato." Am I freaking serious? That means reborn; to rise again. I almost went with another name that meant new beginning.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly, and he vaulted into the deductions. "Miss Renato-"

"Dei."

"…. Dei. You appeared on our doorstep. Your hair is in a disarray, you look to have been beaten-," I flinched at that. "-and you recognized us when you awoke. Now, who are you exactly? Oh, there must be something I've missed. You don't carry yourself very high, judging by what you're wearing and how you're slouching, and also how you are looking at me. You have massive intellect in there, but it is clouded by partial insanity. You were bullied in school because the other kids didn't like someone younger than them smarter. You are 24 years old, and you don't get any exercise- no, scratch that, you run away from people a lot, judging by how your muscles are shaped. You don't like being surrounded by a lot of people, but hate being alone. And…" He hesitated then.

I couldn't tell what he thought, but I stared, tucking my long fingers underneath my chin. Deidre Renato.

I have to remember that last name.

*3rd Person*

Sherlock stood and walked to the kitchen. "Come on, John."

John gave an apologetic smile to Dei and followed Sherlock.

"What should we do?" Sherlock asked him, genuine bewilderment shining through his eyes.

"She could rent 221C. We could help until she gets money."

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow. "How did you know she didn't have money?"

John swallowed and looked down. "The same way I know she was abused. I deducted it."

"You made a deduction." Sherlock corrected, teeth gritting.

John blinked and looked up at him. "What?" Sherlock ignored him. "We can pay for her until she gets a job and enough money to pay for it herself." Sherlock thought for a second. "I don't want her to pay us back." He said impulsively, louder than before.

John stepped back, eyes wide. "I wasn't going to say that." Sherlock looked out towards Dei. She had brought her knees up, hugging them to her chest and seemed to be reading a book.

*With Dei*

She was confused. More than confused. She was afraid she had gone insane.

Dei looked over to her bag- Oh, it came with her! - and rummaged through it.

What? It was swallowing her hand! Her arm, up to her shoulder before her fingertips lightly grazed the bottom. She blindly grabbed something and pulled it out.

It was that damn book again. Now, in gold letters on the front read Deidre Renato. She still kind of wanted to know why she chose that last name.

She opened it and read the line slowly, drinking it in.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew."

The rest of the page was blank, but there looked like grey smudges of almost words not yet written there.

Sherlock swiftly sat on the chair across from her, and John was downstairs speaking to Mrs. Hudson.

"Would you like to help me with a special job?" She went silent, so he continued. "Would you like to put murderers into jail, kidnappers off the streets, and rapists into holes in the ground?"

Dei swiftly nodded, not needing another coaxing.

She'd do it. She would always say yes.