John Watson, ex army doctor, who was trapped in the middle of the Sahara with no food or water at sight, flicked out his pencil and began to draw. John drew a big circle, almost covering the page.
"Smaller," The little prince said.
John shrugged and flipped the page, drawing a smaller planet.
"Smaller." Sherlock looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "It's got to be small, Mr. Watson."
"Doctor." John muttered under his breath. He drew an even smaller planet, not even the size of his pinkie finger.
Sherlock nodded happily, "I have three volcanoes."
"How big are they," John asked, "compared to you."
"Knee-length. I have to clean them out everyday."
"By yourself?" John questioned, surprised.
"There's no one else. I also have three Burbub bushes, but you don't have to draw those in. They haven't grown quite yet. My house is on the other side, and you don't have to draw that in either. And so on this side is where my flower lives, Irene."
"Irene?" John questioned.
"Yes, that is her name." Sherlock defended. "When she first blossomed, I was afraid she was going to be a Burbub. But then on that yellow morning, she blossomed.
"Good morning!" Sherlock smiled at the lovely, red flower.
"Stop," a hand appeared signaling for him to move.
Sherlock backed away, "What is it?"
"Give me a moment to wake up..." she yawned. Then she rose up and looked at Sherlock, and smiled.
Sherlock stared, taken aback a little. "How beautiful you are," He awed, no filted in his mouth.
She smirked, "Yes I know." She laid down again and pointed he leg up at the sun, "I was born at the exact moment as the sun."
Sherlock shook his head. "No, I didn't know that," he admitted.
She smiled at him with bright white teeth, "Irene." She said.
"Huh?"
"My name is Irene. Did you know you're quiet selfish?"
"Selfish?"
"Yes, you're doing what you want to do, which is staring at me. Instead of what I want to do." She pointed out, petulantly.
"What do you want to do?" Sherlock asked.
"It's not what I want to do, its what I need."
Sherlock stared at her blankly, "And that is..."
"Water!" She stated.
Sherlock nodded, "I'll get it for you right away."
"I got it for her everyday. And everyday, I would take care of her."
"It get cold at night," The rose said. "Do you have a glass bowl I could put over my head?"
"You cannot use that, the night air is good for you." The little prince said, "Without it, you'll grow weak."
"Do you love me?" Irene asked.
"Yes, very much. You've made my planet beautiful." He smiled brightly.
"Well then, I need a bowl." She said.
"I promise, Irene, that you'll get used to it-"
"Do you love me?" She stated again.
"Yes, very much so." Sherlock answered.
She huffed, "I don't believe you. If you loved me, you would know how cold I am."
Sherlock felt at a loss, so he went to his house. He didn't have a glass bowl, so he got the next best thing: a skull.
"A skull?" John looked at him with his eyes the size of saucers.
Sherlock nodded, "Uh huh. I found it around the volcanoes. I found out later that it was in fact human-"
"A human skull!?"
"Well yes, I suppose so. An animal skull wouldn't do. No not at all. Flowers are afraid of animals, you see. Over those periods of time the skull has proven to me quite useless until Irene came. Yes, she fit into it quite well. It allowed the sun to shine through and she says, it's better than being naked. Though I realized I hadn't understood what she meant about if I really loved, which of course I did, but I was so unhappy." Sherlock's eyes were downcast and sad. Lost in his mind he said, "Then I realized I didn't know very much of anything."
"I don't know about you and the people of your planet, John. But on my planet, we have to be the best, me and my flower. We need to know what we can do and be able to do it perfectly. I'm a Sherlock, and being ignorant to my fate would actually be the worst possible thing in the world. To make understand, Dr. Watson, what would it be like not being able to help anybody with your doctor skills. Withholding your gifts and talent because you just weren't sure. I'd understand that would be quite painful."
Sherlock looked over to the fat, mysterious moon, "So I decided to leave my planet and go out into the universe to learn something." Sherlock sighed, "I was wrong to leave her, I know that now. But I didn't know it at that time. I was too young..."
"One morning I cleaned out my volcanoes. Checked for Burbubs and put all my things in order."
Sherlock removed the skull off the rose. Irene smiled at him,
"Good morning," she chirped.
"Good morning," The little prince greeted.
"You're all dressed up." The rose observed.
Sherlock nodded, "You look very handsome."
"Thank you."
Irene hesitantly said, "You're going away, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
Sherlock nodded sadly, "Yes."
"And it's my fault, isn't it," Sherlock shrugged.
"Will you be gone for long?"
"Perhaps."
"I see," Irene nodded. "I've been very foolish, haven't I?"
Sherlock shook his head.
Irene laid on her back and crossed her arms under her head, "I wonder who will be here for me to call on." She sighed wistfully. "There are those two caterpillars, but I don't like them. But one has to put up with them if one wants to meet butterflies."
Irene turned her head to look at Sherlock, "Well if you are going- go."
Sherlock stood up, "Goodbye." He choked, trying to hide his tears.
Sherlock walked away to the other side of his planet. He held his sword in the air and in no time he was flying, held up by dozens of doves and birds. He flew across a planet with a bunch of patterns of lands covering it, like a colorful Mesa valley. On top of the patterns of lands, Sherlock could make out a bunch of little model houses.
"How interesting..." Sherlock mused. He landed upon the mysterious planet with an embarrassing amount of clumsiness.
"STOP!"
Sherlock jumped and turned around. He watched as a pudgy man- wearing a quite expensive suit- furiously stomped up to him. He had an exaggerated crown sitting atop his head, along with a black umbrella tucked underneath his arm. He held himself in a regal manner, but Sherlock had a feeling that he wasn't of royalty.
"You can't pass the border without papers!" He exclaimed.
Sherlock looked at him quizzically, "What papers?"
"The papers that you use to get across the borders?"
"What border?"
"Why, that border over there!" He pointed to the red line Sherlock's foot had stepped on. In fact, there were red borders all around the place, blocking all different patterns of lands from each other.
"Do you have your papers?!"
"No."
"Then you cannot carry one as you will!" He bellowed, pudgy round nose turning redder by the minute.
Sherlock backed away from him. "STOP!"
"You almost backed away into another country!" He exasperated. He pulled his umbrella out from under his arm and leant on it, "What are you? A smuggler? A pirate? An idealist? Speak up, will you?"
"What are you?" Sherlock asked, "What's your name."
The man puffed out his chest, "My name is Mycroft Holmes." He said, as if Sherlock should know. She scoffed, "I can see you're from a remarkably tiny planet. One that has three volcanoes and is pestered by those disgusting Burbubs."
"How did you know that?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Common sense. Easy deduction. The ash and minerals on your coat were enough. So, what are you?"
"I'm ignorant." Sherlock said, desperate to get out. This man was like a hawk always watching you with that eye of his.
"Well you'll grow out of it." He brushed it off, "Now I this country is too small for the both of us, but I'll make you a deal. You see that country a foot to your left, I'll be willing to sell it at a reasonable price."
"Your Majesty, er..for such a small planet, why would we need borders?"
"Why would we need borders?" He mimicked incredulously.
"Yes. Why do we need borders? You told me to ask questions."
"B-But even a child knows why we need borders!"
Sherlock looked down sullenly, "I don't."
"Well, of course you don't understand. You're a child!" He wrinkled his fat nose condescendingly. "Where are your papers," he asked again.
Sherlock shook his raven head, "I don't have any."
"Wuh-What!" Mr. Mycroft stammered, "Then you can't stay!"
"I'll leave then." Sherlock simply stated.
Mycroft nodded, "Where's your passport then?"
Sherlock shrugged, "Don't have that either." He felt the birds come back and lift him up.
"But wait! You can't leave without a passport!" But Sherlock was already flying away, through the universe. "COME BACK HERE! GET OFF THIS PLANET! COME BACK HERE!"
He wasn't flying for long before he felt the claws of the birds release him from his grip and drop him onto another tiny planet.
There was a young, dark brown haired woman on a type writer muttering things to herself, while looking in a telescope.
"Good morning." Sherlock greeted.
"Planet number 510... 217 going to explode in ten days at most..." A shooting star raced by, and the lady excitedly typed up, "plus one... five hundred million- thirty two!"
"Five hundred million- thirty two what," Sherlock asked.
"Five hundred million- thirty two plus three...er uh- those things." She waved Sherlock off, "Five hundred million- thirty five!"
"The stars?"
"Yes! The uh..." She looked at Sherlock, completely bewildered. "Stars."
"Why are you counting the stars?"
"Because I own them," she explained. "I want to see how many I have."
"The name's Sherlock." He greeted, "Yours would be..."
"Holmes. Eurus Holmes."
"Holmes?" Sherlock questioned, "Do you know Mycroft?"
Eurus scoffed and shook her head, "I'm better than that oaf." And continued typing the stars.
"Well, Eurus, what good does it do to own the stars?"
"Because it makes me rich," she said jittery.
The little prince cocked his head to the side, "And what good does it do to be rich?"
"What?" Eurus shook her head, "I don't know."
"And why try to own the stars?!"
Eurus put an arm on him, "When you find a diamond that doesn't belong to anyone, it's yours. If you have an idea before anyone else, it's yours." She stood up and started trading through the hundreds of slips of papers, "So I had the the idea of owning the stars."
"I don't understand."
"Well of course you don't understand," she laughed. Eurus ruffled the boy's thick tuffs of hair, "You're but a child."
Sherlock smoothened out his hair in vain, "Well you see, miss, I'm trying to understand. That's why I Ieft my planet."
She cooed, "What a polite boy! I'm glad you're not like some proud man. Well, I'll be glad to teach you a few things. You've come to the right planet! There are hundreds of books you can read here!" She stopped, "That is- if you can read." She looked at him right in the eye, "You can read, right?"
When Sherlock nodded, Eurus nearly squealed with happiness, "I've always wanted an apprentice. There is much for a child to learn to make him brilliant. Yes, yes, there is chemistry, anatomy, philosophy, maths (if you're interested)- oh!- and you must learn about my stars, Sherlock! Yes, it will be a productive four years indeed!"
"Four years!" Sherlock panicked, "Oh no, miss. I haven't that sort of time!"
"No, no, no! It would only seem like four years on this planet. You see this planet moves very fast, what would be three years here, would be around three weeks there at," He looked down on his parchment, "221B."
Sherlock's eyes widened comically, "How- how did you know that?"
She winked, "Deduction. I think you would absolutely love to learn about that." She smirked at him,
"So what? The game's on don't you think?"
"You stayed there and studied for four years under this strange woman?!" John exclaimed.
"Yes." Sherlock smiled slightly, "In fact I don't regret it. I learned many things under Eurus. She was like a sister to me, albeit a bit strange, she taught me many things."
John pressed, "Such as?"
"Well, she taught me that if I were to turkey be happy, I should be alone. Alone is what protects me. Those people that spend their time with others will easily lose their battle when up for a challenge."
"That's rubbish!" John exclaimed, "A child shouldn't be alone."
"Sentiment," Sherlock pointed out, "-is a chemical defect found on the losing side."
Sherlock continued on, ignoring John's look of pity, "Anyway, time did pass and soon my four years were rounding the corner. Eurus wanted me too stay, but I was feeling the same thing I felt at my planet. I was still unhappy. Of course I loved Eurus, I assured her of that fact, but it didn't stop the sad look on her face when she realized she would be alone again. That was when I knew I still was ignorant. In a way. I don't know people, John. I don't understand. How can they still be sad? So I grabbed my sword, called the birds and flew away. Far far away... On to this planet."
Little Sherlock felt the claws of the birds release as he tumbled down the sandy and dry terrain. "What? No! Wait!" He called to the birds, but there was no one there.
"That was one year ago," Sherlock said as he looked up onto the starry sky. "All I ever really learned when I left her, was that I never should have left her. All those little games of hers, I never really did see the affection that was underneath." Sherlock stood up, looking at the blue moon, "One should never listen to flowers, should one?
John finished cutting the paper in his hand, "I don't know. My experience is very limited." He gave Sherlock the art, and it unraveled into a chain of daisies. "I have met a daisy, but where we met was...hazy…"
Sherlock giggled at the rhyme, his spirits instantly lifted, albeit a little bit.
"And I have walked the streets with margarites, and clinging vines beside , I've met a lot of those, but I've never met my rose."