Read and Review?
Just saying you enjoyed it makes me happy, and wants me to continue~
Chapter name: Memberance
1st of Apirl 1888
John rubbed the edge of the cup of tea in his hand, watching as people moved along the night streets from his second story window in the small home he was currently residing in. He moved his eyes to glance at the sign that pointed to the lower part of his building that read, 'Watson Dentistry', the light currently off. He pulled away from the window, slowly moving over to the mirror that was resting against his wall and placing his cup on top of the fireplace.
When John moved into this home, he had no idea what to do with the downstairs area.( too small to rent it out to anyone ) He always had been working in offices, when he first became a dentist, and he soon got the terrific idea( in his mind ) to make the extra space into a home business, leaving the upstairs to himself, as a living space. He stretched out slightly, glancing over his tired figure in the mirror, and running his fingers over the fireplace's rim. He pulled his hand up to reveal dust that he ran his hands together to get rid of.
He let out a soft sigh as he fixed the black bow tie that was resting against his neck, moving his hand to run across the tail coat that moved over his body, and dusting off dirt that was non existent.
He wrinkled his face up as he felt the nervousness ringing through his body slowly building up more and more. He let out a soft sigh and ran a hand through his short blonde hair. He moved away from the mirror, leaving his cup deserted on the fireplace. He moved to his kitchen table picking up a small piece of parchment, looking at the indian ink that was scrawled across it.
- - -Dear Sir John Hamish Watson,
We humbly incourage your appearance at the Watson manor, for a celebration of the returning of Master Watson from his adventures overseas. We are sure he will be englightened to see you.
Retainers of the Watson Manor
Date. . . - - -
John placed the parchment down, not bothered with reading the date and time again, as he moved his fingers to grasp at the rim of his nose trying to hold back the headache he felt raging forth. He moved his free hand to rest on the kitchen table as if to steady himself, he was lucky that the dentistry was already closed. He didn't wish for any of his customers from the lower levels to see him in such a state when he had to head out to his father's get together.
He moved back over to the mirror now focusing on the slight bags under his eyes, and letting another sigh rake through him. He would have to ask April to take care of the business for awhile so he could try and catch on his sleep.
He had moved his gaze slightly downward, and when he glanced upward he saw something. Something he had grown use to seeing, for 19 years. In the reflection of the mirror, moving toward him slowly, with a small and gentle smile on her slightly cherubic face, was his twelve-year-old sister in the last outfit he had seen her in.
He smiled at her in the mirror, before slowly turning to her and moving toward her, kneeling to her height slowly. She smiled gently, and leaned a hand up to place on John's cheek gently, the feeling null and void, unfeeling. He kept his smile up still, and placed his hand on hers gently.
"Hello, Dear Sister, I bet you would love to see me forced to dress up like this. . ." His voice was ringing into the empty room, and all his sister kept doing was smiling.
"I have to go to a greeting party for our father if you were wondering wh-" before his words were able to finish, his sister pulled her hand, causing John's hand to continue floating just above his cheek slightly.
He felt his face contort, as he watched Harry move away from him the way she came, her body slowly disapearing. It was always the same, it was not like anything was different. He knew it was always going to be this way, the only way he would ever be able to see his sister would be in his imagination.
After he saw his sister disapear into the depths of his torn-apart head, he felt his body move up and grab the invitation, He moved his body over to his door and inclined down the staircase putting on the 'mask' he wore all the time. He moved through his dentistry and out his front door, shutting it silently.
~.*.*.*.~
It wasn't too cold, but it was cold enough to make John shiver slightly and curl into himself as he moved down the sidewalk. He knew that the manor wasn't very far so he didn't call for a stagecoach for transport knowing it would just be a waste of money. He moved his hands into his pocket feeling around for the gloves he had brought just in case, his hand grazing the parchment he had grabbed before leaving.
His felt the cloth under his finger tips and he pulled the two white gloves out and slipped them on, breathing onto his hands. He glanced up at the places he was passing knowing he was getting closer. He could hear the chatter, and see a small line of people and stage coaches outside of his father's home. He held back another sigh, knowing that he would soon set a record if he didn't stop.
He moved toward the entrance and past all the cold people receiving some glares from people who were obviously 'trying their best to impress' as they say. When he got to the front door, glancing at the two current retainers there and pulling out the parchment and opening it to hand to one of them. He waited patiently as he glanced over it, his eyes widening slightly, "Sir Watson, Please come in, sorry if you had to wait,".
He heard people whispering, and glanced over slightly. When he did, there were girls giggling softly, and a couple people who were giving him glares were now just nodding in acknowlegment. But, he wasn't focusing on any of them.
He was focused on a tall slender male, with a dark blue masquerade mask that had diamonds around the edges. The mask only covered his eyes, and a small skull was dangling from the corner like spectacles with string would have. He had almost black curls that were resting behind the mask, and skin that was the color of Ivory. He felt mesmerized, and he watched as a glint flashed through the gray eyes that were coming out from the holes in the mask that was resting on the ivory skin.
". . .atson. . .Sir, Watson" The retainer cleared his voice, as John blinked glancing forward and focusing again.
"Sorry, I have these mo-. . Just, sorry," He started to move forward, glancing over toward where he had been looking before to see the man was farther up in line and that no one seemed to notice. He glanced downward quickly, forcing himself to go into the doors quicker, and glancing upward as the doors shut behind him. He knew it was coming, and he straightened himself up.
"Sir John Hamish Watson, Son of Albert Regertis Watson has arrived. ." Another retainer moved over toward John and pulled his parchment out quickly, as he read off his full name, not needing to read off his father's. All the gazes in the room moved to him, as the retainer bowed and moved away. The whispers started throughout the medium sized ballroom that he was standing in the front of, and after he realized his father wasn't in the room, he just nodded to the guests.
He navigated himself over to a small corner, and away from the doors that were opening and closing to let people in, announcing the people who were important enough to be known and just letting the others move slowly around the area. He settled himself in the corner of the room where the less amount of people were. It wasn't that he didn't like people, it was just nobles and anyone that pretty much was interested in attending his father's parties.
After his mother had passed away, his father had mourned by taking all the money he had gotten from spreading all the Watson Clinic's, and then going and doing whatever the bloody hell he wanted to do with it. He knew that his father had given him money but that was it, he had to go and figure out how to become a dentist himself. When he turned seventeen he moved out and started to take care of himself. His father didn't really care much anyway. John dragged his eyes around the crowd of people, for some reason he found himself now looking to see if the masked man had slipped inside while he had been day dreaming, but to no avail he did not seem him.
Just as he was about to set his record for sighs in one day, the doors opened and the retainer scurried over quickly holding another parchment. The door had been blocking the view of who had just entered, but they shut now revealing exactly who John had been thinking of.
The male had a long coat that trailed behind as the door shut, the skull swinging slightly as he walked, when he moved into the room it was similar to all the air leaving it in one fell swoop. The male didn't move his gaze around the crowd, he just stood waiting to be introduced.
The retainer scrambled across the words on the parchment, "S-Sir, William Sherlock Scott Holmes. . . Son of Master Reginald Alexander Holmes. . ." there were immediate gasps, in the crowd and loud whispers, as the retainer bowed and moved away quickly almost falling with his shock.
John felt his eyes widen as he listened to the whispers,
". . . but, they are recluses, haven't left that cob-webbed manor in ages"
". . . my cousin said she saw Reginald digging in his yard when she was walking by there"
"So. . . why is he here?"
"Then why would he come here?"
"And the Watson manor, no reason to be interested in Albert, right?"
John had of course heard the rumours, he just had never seen the man, so he couldn't of guessed that the man he was so caught up with was a actual Holmes. He let out a breath that he didn't know he was been holding. He watched this . . . William, move slowly, the coat bellowing behind him, he slowly took a couple steps forward, as he glanced around, seeming to be looking for someone in the crowd of people.
But, he soon turned his gaze to John, and John tensed as he watched this,William, move toward him, he just felt like the name did not suit him. He swallowed, as he inched closer, moving to stand up straighter.
"John Watson? I have seen you and your father Albert's pictures in the newspapers. I had been gandering around for your father and I did not see him, so I thought I would come to you and talk to you. . instead" His voice was a deep baritone rumble, and John felt like he should be watching the male's chest move with each word that left his mouth.
"Ahh, Yes, He is probably still preparing, but yes, I am John. William Holmes?" The name William before Holmes, felt weird on Johns lips. He moved his hand out of his pocket, and lifted it to shake the others hand pausing to take the glove off before moving it up again.
There was a soft rumble of laughter, once again John waiting for the others chest to move with the movement, "Oh, no, I go by Sherlock Holmes, disregard the other two inane names, and just call me Sherlock," Sherlock moved his hand to John's and shook his hand firmly.
John was surprised by how cold his hand was, and he glanced down at it slightly, but then looked upward at the other and pulled his hand away smiling gently, as he slipped his glove back on.
Sherlock eyes seemed to scan over John making him slightly uncomfortable, and he soon moved his gaze to the others eyes. John blinked and cleared his throat.
"So, what was it that you needed to talk to me and my father about?"
Sherlock's eyes stopped wandering, and he moved his eyes back to rest on John's. One of the retainers that John didn't notice started to play the violin to a melody that he didn't know, and John glanced over curiously, some people moving over to dance on the ball floor.
Sherlock glanced over at the people moving across the ballroom floor, one hand resting behind his back and the other just by his side.
" . . . There are going to be some things that are going to start commencing. . . These things are going to be rather tragic, and they are going to start, I would have to say, in the next three days or so. . ."
John's face contorted slightly, what was he playing at, was he just messing around with him? Why would it matter to John, a lot of bad things happened in London, it wasn't like it had anything to do with him. . . right?
"John, please, and why are you telling me this? Does it have something to do with me?"
Sherlock didn't move his gaze away from the people moving on the ballroom floor, keeping his back to John, which was making him pretty angry. He heard him make a soft sound close to tsking.
"Are you that shortsighted, John? Let's not state the obvious here now, of course it has something to do with you, otherwise I would not of told you,"
John stiffened, that sure was a change of character, he felt himself chuckle softly.
"Oh, Sherlock, you sure are sweet, so then, would you be obliged to fill me in with what these horrid events have to do with me?"
John asked rocking on his feet with a sarcastic smile on his face, and his hands clasped behind his back.
Sherlock finally turned toward him, his eyes had a certain gleam to them, and he was holding a sarcastic smile also, "The person who is going to cause them. . . is interested in you. ." His voice still had the odd rumble and John was upset that he found it slightly soothing, a feeling he hadn't gotten before when listening to it.
John raised his eyebrow the smile still on his face, and he just nodded, "Mhm, alright, , if you do say so. I guess I am obliged to believe you ,when these events start to happen, then I definetly will," John said, knowing this man was most likely just a psychopath.
" I am a high-functioning sociopath, not a psychopath, and your next question, is the inane, 'How did you?' and the answer. . . Is that everyone thinks the same thing. . . And you my dear Watson, seem to me, just like everyone else. . ." Sherlock's voice rumbled again as he chuckled, and received a dagger like glare from John.
It made no sense, how he knew exactly what he was thinking, but he couldn't help but to find it interesting, either way he just wanted to get away from this man. He started to move away from him shaking his head, but he felt coldness envelop his arm as Sherlock grabbed at it, and held him still.
"After the first. . . incident happens, come to the Holmes residence, and we can talk there. This person, that is going to cause these problems, he isn't just a ordinary person and these, things, are not just something that will be forgotten. It will be etched into history, they arn't just going to be incidents they are going to be murders, and this person isn't a person. He is a monster, and the murder that those inane idiots will think is his first, is not. Your sister, Harriet Elizabeth Watson, was his first victim."
Thanks for reading, I decided to write another chapter to maybe catch more people into it.
Sooo, here it is, hehehe, cliffhanger?
I think I like where I am going to with this, reviews are accepted pleassseee 3
And thanks to the person who reviewed the first chapter~
