Six Months
Familiarity Leads To Invisibility
Chapter One
A Sherlock Holmes story – based on the hit BBC 2011/12 productions.
A/N – I do not own anything but my own plot bunnies.
A/N – This is set after the final episode of season two.(Reichenbach Falls)
A/N – I'm in marketing. And a key rule to marketing is that people don't notice what is usual, as much as they notice the unusual. Based on this principle. By blending in with his surrounds, Sherlock is able to hide in plain sight.
Familiarity leads to invisibility; this is a truth that has allowed me to hide in the center of London. I have changed my appearance, my hair is longer, and I have actually managed to grow a beard. My clothes are old, torn and not nearly as warm as my lovely coat and scarf. John used to say I only pulled the collar up to look cool. Not so, well, perhaps a little true, but mostly it is because I feel the cold so deeply. John, the last time I wore my coat was seeing him at 'my grave'. He asked the John Doe there for a miracle. I wish I could have given him one. I miss him as he misses me. My first ever friend and faithful blogger, I check his blog occasionally, when I can scrap enough to pay for an Internet café. Nothing has changed since his last entry saying he believes in me. There is power in those words.
It has been six months since my 'death'. My brother, my worst enemy, the deceiver. John had been correct in his assumption that Mycroft had sold me out. I have contacts, I know of the fight. Go John. He didn't even look at my body, maybe then he would have realized, he felt to 'guilty' to do so. Molly was brilliant. I have not seen her since that day. Despite my attitude towards her, she is a good person. John should date her. I would approve of Molly and John.
I want to go home. I want to be fussed over by Mrs. Hudson and tell her to shut up. I want to shoot at the wall and play my violin at 3am to annoy John. I went to retrieve it while John was at work. He's placed in my honor on the mantle. I could not take it from him.
Once I never cared who I bothered. John changed that. John changed me. Moriarty then changed me again, and for the worse.
I have found some the lower minions of Moriarty, ten in total so far, and I have gotten information out of them. They are like little sheep waiting to lead, with no bell weather to do so, easy to scare, easy to manipulate. I am becoming what Donovan and Anderson feared. But it is a means to an end. I will go home.
The information I have retrieved, some useful, some not, has helped me form the web wall, pictures, articles; some lifted files form Scotland Yard. I have a secret place. It is just a hold in a wall leading to an old basement that's been sealed up. A dumpster and a piece of ply guard the entrance. Candles make the light and an old mattress I found on the street acts as my bed. I'm covered in fleas. Humans get lice, not flees. More proof for The Yard's gossip. My good clothes are protected, a plastic bag for protection against the damp, a mothball. Few irregulars know the truth; they get well paid for their services. I train them in theft, manipulation and observation and in return they act as my eyes and ears in places I cannot go.
John, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade will be safe, and I will go home. I have a home. I'm just too dead to use it and ghosts do not walk.
But demons, demons can walk the earth, and this one will get the would be assassins.
A/N – so what do you think of the first chapter?