Chapter 3
Dear god, whatever did he do without John? Boredom was one word but really? In his childhood he never had any friends, except one, a small girl. The other children took almost no effort whatsoever in dismissing him as a social outcast, they would call him names, childish names that cut into him like the steel of a blade. Probably one of the reasons he had turned out the way he had. The most favoured of them all, was his personal nickname 'Freak', which as you can imagine did nothing for a twelve year olds confidence.
Then one day, after being chased into the school bike shed by his 'mortal enemies' as he called them and hiding away he began to cry, knees pulled up to his face, the edges of his shorts soaking up his falling tears. As he recalled he had sat there for a least an hour in the cold winter air and in the darkness of the shadows, until she came. She was like an angel, a ray of light in the lonesome darkness inside him. She was so small, but so charming with mousy brown hair that fell onto her shoulders and cheeks that were rosy red. Without any hesitation, she came over to him and held him close even though they had never met before. She cradled him and told him that everything would be fine and to never cry, and just like that his tears ceased.
Agatha had been his only friend and once together they were inseparable, always together never ever seen apart until a day came that still made him sick to this day. After walking Agatha home from the library (their favourite place) he never saw her again. She never turned up at school and never returned his many calls, only to be found dead the following week. Just like that. For weeks he didn't talk, frozen in the utter grief and horror of it all, crying himself to sleep every single night, his nightmares filled with her screams. No one understood him then, never mind now. He had always known that her father had killed her, but nobody believed him. Nobody could believe the 'Freak' that was Sherlock Holmes.
For years he has pushed these memories away to the back of his mind, to hurtful to return to, until his Pathologist had came into his life. Dr Molly Hooper. It was almost insane how much she resembled her, and how very alike they were. How she would stutter, how she admired him and his personality where no one else would. How she would stand with him through thick and thin. Agatha had been so special to him, and reminded him of everything Molly had done simply for him. Molly was always there for him when he needed her and she deserved to be loved more than anyone. She loved him despite everything he was and everything he thought of himself, she was the only person who could see past everything. The only person that could be as innocent and as caring as Agatha. The only one to make him question everything about sentiment.
Truth be told sometimes, well most of the time he was vile to Molly, cold hearted even, maybe to go as far as to say he was heartless, though everyone thought he didn't have one anyway and maybe they were right. But then again was he 'kind' to anyone? Apart from John, Mrs Hudson and Mummy but that was different, but then so was Molly. Despite his behaviour over the past through years she had always been there for him even when he scarcely deserved it, though in many cases there was a tad of flattery involved. Not forgetting she was indeed a fantastic Pathologist, several times published, and a history of perfect straight A*'s as a student, she was far from stupid, which was better than most of the people he knew. It was true that there was something about her, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it her voice? Her hair? At the end of the day he hadn't actually lied, her hair did suit her more when parted into a different fashion.
Sometimes she made him feel like he could jump for joy (well perhaps not) or even hide in fear. Emotions were definitely not something he experienced frequently and from his views were huge disadvantages, slowing people down, clouding their minds. (Well let's face it they never did the Woman any good in any case.) It seemed he had another investigation to act upon, one that would prove most interesting. Forgetting his headache and even his scarf, he left 221B and got a cab straight to Barts. He needed answers and though he denied it a visit to Molly Hooper would be more than okay.