At 21:30 the train arrived and fifteen minutes later he sat in front of two young persons, brother and sister, the boy was gay and Sherlock guessed he had a crush on his sister's boyfriend. So far so obvious. They were having a conversation about some sci-fi TV-show. Their life seemed so normal. Every now and then Sherlock wondered about how he would be if he was ordinary, but he wasn't and would never be.
The two were now arguing about who was the best doctor. Sherlock lost track, he was not interested in such things, why would he.
This train would take him as far as Paris. There he would spend the rest of the night. The current situation was new to him. Sherlock always planned everything and considered every possible action. The new, impulsive, tactic was horrible if you would ask him. The couple went quiet and Sherlock decided he'd better get some sleep since he didn't have any in days. he felt that his brain was close to a breakdown. Sherlock closed his eyes and he dozed off within minutes.
When he woke up four hours later he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time, hunger. Sherlock was used to not eat anything for days on but now it was different. Everything was. So Sherlock stood up and walked to the train restaurant. He bought a sandwich and a cup of coffee. Sherlock now had 98 pounds left, of which 80 were for the train to Amsterdam. He looked out of the window, the weather didn't seem that bad, he would spent the night in Paris on a bench.