Chapter One: A New Case
Sherlock was laying on the sofa when John walked in. The same old position on his back and fingers resting under his chin, clearly deep in thought. John stopped just inside the doorway and looked at his friend. While John had been out Sherlock had not moved at all, as far as John could tell. The flat was still covered with paper and mutiple files from the previous case. He couldn't even be bothered to organise his files.
"Hello John" Sherlock snapped John out of his thoughts.
"So you decided to do nothing while I was out. Did you eat breakfast? Mrs Hudson did leave some food out for you." John always worried about Sherlock eating enough. Sometimes the detective could go days without eating a proper meal. If there was a case that needed solving then everything else came afterwards.
"Yes I noticed. I did have some of it but there was little point in eating all of it" Sherlock very rarely ate a whole meal. He never thought there was much point because usually after half the meal he felt full so there was no need to eat all of it. However it always bothered John slightly that he didn't seem to eat enough, but John had given up trying to convince him to eat more a few weeks after moving in with the detective.
"Right." John sighed and shook his head slightly. How has this man survived this long on his own? It's a miracle that he hasn't gotton himself blown up or poisoned. A loud knock at the door startled John from his thoughts.
"Is Sherlock in?" John could hear their friend Lestrade talking to Mrs. Hudson downstairs, swiftly followed by the sounds of footsteps running up the stairs. Dectective Inspector Lestrade often came to Sherlock for help on cases that the police force couldn't solve.
"Ah. Lestrade, I was wondering when you would show up." Sherlock said.
"Yes, well. There's been a murder and we need your help." Lestrade replied seemingly flustered from his journey to Baker Street. Whenever Lestrade comes to Sherlock for help he usually ends up being insulted by the detective and so does the rest of the police task force. It was safe to say that most of the police force didn't like Sherlock one bit.
"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked abruptly. This never affected if Sherlock was going to help or not, but he liked to know in advanced so that he can prepare for the amount of stupidity that he was going to have to deal with.
"Anderson" Lestrade said hesitantly. Oh great. This should be fun. John sarcastically thought to himself. He knew that Sherlock thought that Anderson was the most irritating and idiotic of all the task force. John almost felt sorry for Anderson because he ended up being the one getting all the insults. Sherlock once told him to stop talking because he lowered the IQ of a whole street, back when John had only known Sherlock for a few days. Anderson could be very irritating and rude, much like Sherlock, but he didn't need to be insulted all the time. John heard Sherlock mumble to himself before the detective agreed to go.
About an hour and a half after leaving Baker Street John and Sherlock arrived at the crime scene. Lestrade showed them into an old looking house, the grey stone walls were crumbling and the dark brown roof looked like it was about to cave in. All the windows had white wooden frames which had started to splinter and the front door continued the pattern. When they entered they were hit by the strong smell of rotting wood and a lot of dust. In the centre of the floor there was the body of the victim. John could already see the detective putting the pieces together. It was amazing to watch the dectective at work even though John had seen him work many times before, it's like John could see the cogs turning and Sherlock putting the evidence togther.
"John?" Sherlock gestured to the body. Sherlock liked to get John's take on the case and often asked for him to examine bodies and tell Sherlock what he could. He partly did this to annoy Anderson but the dectective prefered John to tell him the medical side of the case because he wasn't a complete idiot. John walked towards the body even though he knew Sherlock probably knew already whatever John was about to tell him. The victim was a young women, maybe in her twenties, she had red hair and quite pale skin, but that could be because she was dead. She was wearing a blue tank top, dark jeans and combat boots. She wasn't drunk and she hasn't chocked on any vomit. John had knelt down beside her. He could see small bruises forming on her neck and were faint scars on her arms from about three years ago, John guessed at three years anyway. She was also bleeding from her left side. She may have been attacked or mugged. John finished assessing the woman's body, there was no other signs of anymore injurys.
"The likely cause of death is a punctured lung on her left side and there are small bruises forming on her neck and shoulders." John turned to look at Sherlock who was deep in thought. John knew Sherlock had heard him but the dectective failed to acknowledge what he had just said. "Thank you John." Sherlock said as he started to walk towards the body a little while later. The dectective started to move around the body, kneeling down ocassionally to look closer. With a sudden turn Sherlock stood up and briskly walked around the room, looking at the walls and the floor. John knew what was coming next, Sherlock would turn to Lestrade and tell him everything that he had deduced at an alarming speed and leave them dumbfounded.
"The victim is in her mid twenties, she has scars over her arms from a car crash that she had been in before, one of her shoes has come undone telling us she was in a rush..." Sherlock continued to talk for about a minute without stopping. Sherlock confirmed that what John had said was true, she died from the punctured lung, he said that the bruises were caused by someone grabbing her a bit too tightly. Lestrade asked if she had been attack but Sherlock quickly explained that she hadn't, as far as he could tell and he was usually right. Someone had probably grabbed her from excitement or something of the sort, maybe to tell her that she was bleeding but that's unlikely, according to Sherlock she hadn't been bleeding for too long before getting to this house. But why did she come here? John couldn't help but think that the dectective wasn't telling them something. Luckily, for John, Lestrade asked Sherlock that particular question to which the dectective replied: "Isn't it obvious? This is her home."
Soon after they left because the rest seemed to put itself together, some drunk homeless guy punctured her lung, probably with a borken bottle piece, for no apparent reason. Sherlock flagged a taxi and they set off towards Baker Street. However John could tell that something was bothering Sherlock, the question was what.