Joe - 15
This takes place six months after Sherlock jumps off St. Barts in The Irregulars.
Joe could hear John tossing in his sleep upstairs while the Irregular curled up on the couch. It was only a matter of minutes when he heard the doctor scream himself awake, Sherlock's name on his lips. Joe flinched, it always made him feel terrible keeping the secret that his father was alive knowing that he had to keep John in the dark. After a few moments of tense silence John's began to to pace around his room, Joe felt his guts twist. His uncle wasn't getting enough sleep.
Lacking any better ideas he reached for the violin sitting by the window where Sherlock had last left it. Sherlock had taught him how to play a while ago but it had been almost a year since he'd practiced. Taking a deep breath he began to play, it was nothing technical just simple scales followed by a few simple songs he knew. The violin would squeak in protest every now and then but over all he was doing well.
After half an hour of playing he noticed John had made his way into the room and sat down to listen. Neither spoke, so Joe kept playing until John fell asleep in his chair.
…
The six months that had passed were not easy on the kids, especially Joe. He missed Sherlock terribly and with him gone, he'd become the male leader of the group. They all looked to him for advice, like some how magically he knew what to do all the time. Right now he was in Germany with Mycroft's agents looking for proof that Richard Brooks identity was a fake. John thought he was with Mycroft at the Diogeness club in London, more deceit on the boys part.
Naturally with Brook being fake his childhood home didn't exist, ha. Right now Mycroft's agents had left him sitting on the cold stone stairs on a museum while they checked out some references they didn't deem safe for a young man such as himself to know. Joe shorted, he could tell more than they could. But nobody listens to a child.
The night was cold, soon the snows of winter would be falling. Ghe should of bought his scarf, not just his coat. The coat and scarf had become somewhat iconic nowadays. The 'Sherlock Holmes Gang' look. He'd thought it too noticeable.
"A child should not be sitting out here alone." A man said from behind him, "It's dangerous."
"I can handle myself." Joe spat back not sparing the man a look. He was so much more than a normal child…
"here," the man reached over his shoulder and placed a small box in Joe's lap.
"May as well have some protection on you."
Joe slipped open the box, inside what pearly white knife so polished he could see his reflection in the blade. It was beautiful. As he studied the knife the reflection shifted revealing the face behind him. The man had shortish red hair with a slight curl at the longer parts. Joe hid a grin when he saw grey irises peaking out from behind deep brown contacts.
"Thank you sir." He said simply.
"Right, I'd better get going, I have work to finish before I can go home." The man said simply, a slight English accent was detectable beyond the very prominent German one.
"Yeah, wouldn't want to keep your family waiting." Joe smiled, still not looking straight at the man.
"No, I wouldn't"
And then he was gone, just as Mycroft's agents came running down the stairs slightly panicked. Mycroft had given strict orders that they were not to let any harm to come to the child. And now they had found him holding a knife and talking to a stranger. By the time they reached him the man was gone.
"Who was that?" One of the agents asked.
"Oh nobody." Joe shrugged, "Just some homeless guy. Gave me the knife in case I needed protection. Think he thought I was homeless too."
"Right well come on, we got what we need." The agent stiffened and began to lead him down the stairs.
Joe glanced back towards the building behind them, if one looked closely, you could just make out the silhouette of a certain dead detective beside it.
Sorry this took so long, I've been so busy lately and my computer glitched and I had to write this twice!