The Supernatural Adventures of S Holmes and JH Watson

by Osmosian

After twenty years in a government testing facility, Sherlock Holmes decides to do something drastic to escape. To be free, Sherlock has to convince John Watson that he deserves freedom. Warning: No long chapters. A collection of prose and writing that's supposed to mimic documents, or letters.

2. Holmes Estate, July, 1984

At five years old, Sherlock Holmes was his parents pride and joy. They would tuck him in at night and whisper to him how much they loved him; press their lips against his cheeks and murmur it again, if only so it could make an imprint onto his very flesh, and seep into his bones. Like any decent parents, they didn't want their child to wonder if his parents loved him enough. Instead they carved it into his bones, metaphorically of course, and made sure his very blood hummed with it.

That's not to say that they didn't realise that he was flawed. In fact, they still remember with terror the conversation they had had with him when explaining that it was not humane to kick a variety of animals simply to see how they reacted. Pigheaded Sherlock didn't listen to this conversation, as usual, but soon enough the lesson came along with three scars made by some poor canine.

However, he was not a cruel child, not at all: the kicked animals that he could get his hands on afterwards were always nurtured to the best of his ability. He was simply a curious child, and curiously strange. His brother, Mycroft, had been the same at that age, but had calmed some time after his tenth birthday.

Five year old Sherlock, however, displayed characteristics that his brother did not, and had not in his life. One of these...characteristics was the ability to move things without the aid of his body.

At first it was small things. Sherlock would get mad at not being able to have his favourite breakfast cereal, or over Mycroft moving something in his bedroom, and something would break. His parents, loving as they were, would never shout at him for it, since it was beyond his control, although Mr Holmes had come close to it when he found a frowning Sherlock standing above his grandmothers ashes.

Quickly, he became more powerful, almost over night. There had been several family arguments where Mrs Holmes would have to calm down her youngest child while her eldest was being pinned against the wall by an invisible hand.

Loving as they were, it was difficult for Mr and Mrs Homes to not become fearful of their child. The whispered I love you's soon stopped, replaced by a locked door and a tentative pat on the head.

Salvation came on one especially stressful day, when Mycroft was in a particularly annoying mood, and Sherlock was in the mood to be roused into anger. After a bout of tears, (through which Mrs Watson had begged Sherlock to stop throwing the kitchen knives around the living room, not that he could control it) the telephone had rang. Mrs Watson pulled herself together with the threads of her apron and answered it with a shaky 'hello'.