Just then, the door slammed, breaking the silence, the silence that was making the room stifling hot despite the arctic winds blowing the drifts of snow across the road outside. Mrs Hudson's voice was heard echoing itself up the stairs,
'Hello boys! Just nipped out for a bit of early Christmas shopping! Sherlock, I've told you not to leave your boots here, they've made the hallway all muddy!'
Sherlock smirked slightly despite himself, allowing himself to be distracted momentarily by Mrs Hudson's trivial complaints. His eyes glanced down to the envelope with the number five printed on it in bright white ink, like the first brush stroke of a painting, irreversible, dominating. His eyes glazed over for a moment, before he stood up and went to the window, a position John often found hims in when he got home, as if Sherlock was trapped in a cage.
'I met him when I was a child' Began Sherlock.
John started, he didn't realize he was going to get a story out of his companion. He longed to go to Sherlock, to wrap his arms around his waist and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But Sherlock looked so frail, he didn't dare. He looked as if he could shatter at any minute.
'I was seven, and my mother took me to a fair ground.'
John's face was a mixture of surprise, confusion and amusement. Sherlock didn't seem to be the fair ground type. Sherlock ignored this, and carried on.
'This was one of the rare moments me and my mother bonded. She was always too busy worrying what Mycroft was doing. But the fair ground was all mine. I think I was fascinated as a child, of the colour and sounds and the people. So many people John, for a mind like mine. So many people with so many stories. I used to sit at the top of the Ferris wheel and count the people, trying to work out who they were, what their jobs were.'
John chuckled affectionately. He could imagine a young Sherlock, eager and inquisitive.
'We went about once every couple of months. It was March, just beginning to get warm, and I ran to the Ferris wheel. I turned and my mother was gone. I remember looking for hours.' His voice broke. 'I couldn't find her. I sat on a bench and waited. I had always been a strong willed child, but I remembered the tears that day. Then I noticed a man, with a pretty ginger girl. He pointed at me, and then remarked to the girl. I tried to work out their story, but it was impossible. The man was so old, yet so young at the same time. He came up to me and inquired about what was wrong. I told him the story, and he left. Within minutes my mother was running towards me. The man smiled in the distance and walked away. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to find her among the crowds of thousands.' He shook his head slowly.
'I didn't know it yet, but that was the first time I had ever met the Doctor.'