THE ACADEMY CHRONICLES - A series of Oneshots containing the origin stories of Team Awesome and other events leading up to Episode Six

The Boys of 221B

I don't own anyone from BBC's Sherlock. Honestly. Don't sue my ass.

London: November 8, 5088

Two young men meandered down the abandoned streets of downtown London. Since the great Rural Revival of 4070, many of the residential and business districts in the city lay empty. It was like staring into the aftermath of a great disaster, both eerie and thrilling at the same time.

The younger of the two, who appeared to be no older than thirteen, smiled up at his companion, his strange violet eyes sparkling with excitement.

"See, Zephie? Isn't this way better than going to the shooting range. . . Again?"

The older teen nodded slightly. He wasn't so sure.

"Luci, I really ought to be at practice right now. We have assessments in a few days and. . ."

"Come on. You know you'd rather be here. You're the best shot in the school already. Skipping one boring little practice isn't gonna kill you."

Zephyrus sighed. There was a great deal of truth in what his friend had said. And he really was in the mood for an adventure. The Academy seemed to offer little in the way of hands-on experience, and he was no big fan of textbooks. He wanted to do things, to really just jump in with both feet. And why not? He was brilliant. And brilliant and bored happened to be a very powerful and dangerous combination.

"Ok, Lucian. I say we try that building over there."

He pointed at a small set of flats, a weathered door still bearing a 2_ _ B, though the middle numbers were missing. There was something so mysteriously sad about that door, so curiously intriguing, that he had to see what lurked beyond it.

Lucian knocked on the door, just in case. There were, after all, a few old straggler families who had remained in the heart of London as the city fell into decay around them. But no one responded. He pulled out a bobby pin and began working on the lock.

Zephyrus snickered at this, his bright blue eyes glittering in amusement. Lucian glared at him.

"I lifted it from my sister, alright?"

Within a mater of minutes, the lock popped open. Zephyrus moved past his friend, swinging the door open and stepping cautiously inside.

As they climbed the stairs, stepping cautiously for fear of falling through, the boys noticed a curious quality to the air inside the building. Some strange flicker of ozone that tickled the back of their nostrils, obscured slightly by dust and decay. There was something special about this place, something different from the rest of the city.

Lucian crossed the threshold into the flat. his eyes wide. The flat was furnished still. And not only furnished, but filled with belongings, as though the owner had just stepped out for a cup of tea. But the thick coating of dust revealed that no one had been here for a very, very long time.

Zephyrus blew the dust off of an old violin which lay discarded by the moldering couch. He plucked at the strings, mildly surprised when they held fast. The noise startled Lucian, who turned to him in shock.

"This. . . This place. . ."

Zephyrus nodded. "Yeah. Something's odd here."

As Lucian browsed the book titles on the overstuffed shelf, Zephyrus made his way to the kitchen. Like the living area, it was fully stocked. Boxes of decayed, mummified takeout covered the table, chopsticks embalmed in centuries-old rice. Papers littered the table, the counters, the floor. He tried to pick one up, but it crumbled to dust in his hands.

"Hey, Zephie. Over here."

He followed Lucian's voice to a small bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was filled with the contents of another life, another time. At least the bed looked still comfortable.

"Zephyrus, what does this mean? What happened to the people here?"

He shook his head at the younger boy.

"I'm not sure. But I have a feeling that whatever it was, it wasn't good."

His vortex manipulator beeped. He looked at it in shock.

"That never happens."

Lucian stared at it. "I thought messaging was disabled on the student model."

"It's supposed to be."

He tapped a button, and a deep, husky voice resonated from the unit. There was no projection.

"You're wrong. Nothing happened. I'm still here."

"Who are you?"

"I'm not a ghost, if that's what you're thinking. And I really would rather you not break in again. It makes my housemate antsy."

Lucian's eyes grew wide in fear. "If you're still here, why can't we see you?"

"The real question is, why can I see you? It really is quite curious. Should keep me occupied for a while.'

Zephyrus rolled his eyes. "And what's the date today?"

"November 8."

"And the year?"

"2011. Why?" The voice paused, as if thinking. "Oh. Oh I see! Right! You're not here, but you're here! Yes! It makes perfect sense! There must be something wrong with the time in this building. Well done."

"Thank you."

"Shown up by a schoolboy. Clearly, I'm off my game."

The voice faded, as though the connection were dying. But as it faded, Zephyrus caught one final sentence.

"You're welcome to live here, if you want. You've passed the test."