Chapter 2: How, But Not Why or Who
They were looking at a murder and Sherlock knew it. Not from his brother, but from the fact that the man was left handed and the woman was right handed, but only the woman could have shot herself. They were both shot from the right side, and from the data that Sherlock could find, the man or woman, he wasn't sure yet, shot them from the doorway and shot the man first. Seeing as the woman's wound wasn't very accurately done but the man's was done perfectly, it suggested that the woman woke up after the man was dead and screamed so, the murderer shot her as well.
The guns? They were only in their hands because of the threat. The woman's was under her pillow and the man's was in the night stand. Idiots. They think that the murderer stole something, but in reality the gun was the thing taken out of the drawer. Fucking morons. Sherlock really doesn't like the police at all. But John on the other hand really doesn't care, I bet Sherlock will prove all these idiots wrong and they'll look like babbling morons. They really need to train these dumb bastards better, even I know the gun was taken from the night stand, not planted on him. God, these people are dumbasses.
With what Sherlock was finding, the killer was slowly beginning to look not so human. There are no foot prints in the carpet, there are no signs of fear on the couple's faces, there was no sign that anyone but the man and woman were here, except for of course the way they were shot, but still. Sherlock took one last look at the blond and the burnet and told the police what he had found and they were back on the streets with Lestrade, "I just don't get how, if they were murdered, there is almost no sign of the third person." Lestrade was confused, but he knew that Sherlock was probably right. He always is.
When John and Sherlock were in the cab, they ignored the fact that Sherlock had taken John's hand. He said it helps him think, John doesn't think that's the case. But anyway, "But, if the killer isn't human, how will you find them?" John questioned Sherlock's reasoning, for once.
Sherlock was silent, but his mind was turning as much as it could to try to find What could have done this, and why do it in such a way that it looks so much like no one but those two were in the room?
Sherlock squeezed John's hand harder, Damn it! Why can't I think straight? Why'd I take John's hand? It obviously doesn't help me think. Well, about the case anyway. Fuck! Ok, the man was left handed but was shot in his right side, the woman wakes up and screams and is shot in a hasty getaway of the… what in the bloody hell could have done this?! Ah, what in the shitting hell is going on?! I hate not knowing. Sherlock's grip loosened only a little as John started to think about why Sherlock really grabbed it.
He's not gay, he said so. He's probably asexual, by the looks and actions of him. Why is it that it's always the cute ones that are always the loneliest? Or the most difficult? Wait, Sherlock is cute? Damn it… John and Sherlock's heads were both feeling as if they were about to explode. Why did they have to think about each other? Because they think about each other constantly, if they aren't there's something wrong.