"Amnesia." was the detective's conclusion.
"What?" the man replied.
"Amnesia. Quite simple really. Memory loss, in a shortened way of putting it. You forgot who you are, nearly seven years ago."
"What?" the man said again, more confused.
"It's quite simple, really. You went through some sort of accident,
and you can't remember anything."
"Um...alright."
"Tell me, what do you remember?" Sherlock inquired, turning to face the man like a hunter stalking its prey.
"I remember...I remember this address, that it's summer, that I'm in London, and not many other useful things." the man said, slightly ashamed at his lack of memories.
"Tell me them." Sherlock commanded.
"Alright..." the man took a deep breath and let it out slowly "Well, it's not very useful, like I said, I know what things are, and I know how to get to places, but when I think about other things, like my life before I woke up on that bench...nothing comes up. It's blank. No family, no friends, no job, nothing."
"Very well." Sherlock replied, calm as could be.
"Very well what?! My whole life is gone, like it never existed and like I ever existed, and you say nothing more the very well!" the man exclaimed.
"Yes. If you will excuse me, I have a few calls to make." Sherlock said, and walked upstairs. He was soon on the phone with one John H. Watson.
"Hello?" John said, plucking his mobile out of his pocket while trying
not to disturb his three month old daughter, who was currently using
him as a mattress.
"It's Sherlock. Meet me at Baker Street. I have a case."
"Sherlock! Kathy's asleep, Mary's at the store, I can't drop everything and come solve a case!" John said, in as indignant a tone that he could use without waking Kathy.
"You'll like this one. A bit of a medical mystery, shall we say."
"Sherlock!"
"John, I need a doctor. Now." Sherlock promptly hung up the phone, walked upstairs without saying a word to anyone, and picked up his violin. Now, where had he left off again? Ah, yes, measure 43. The sound of a violin started wafting through the house once more.
Half an hour later, John arrived at 221 B Baker Street, stroller in tow. He rang the bell, and Mrs. Hudson answered the door.
"John!" she cried, surprised to see her old border.
"Hello Mrs. Hudson." John said.
"Are you here to see Sherlock? He's with a case right now, well sort of, it's rather complicated." Mrs. Hudson said.
"All right. Mind if I come in?" John asked.
"Oh, of course! Did you bring your daughter along?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"Yeah, Mary was at the store, and I didn't want to ask the sitter to come since I didn't know how long I would be." John confirmed, lifting the stroller containing Kathy up the steps and into the flat. He parked the stroller by the door and took the carrier out.
"Oh, isn't she precious!" Mrs. Husdon said as she looked at Kathy, who was still sleeping. The little girl had John's hair and Mary's eyes.
"So, what's Sherlock gotten himself into this time?" John asked.
"Well, It would be easier to show you rather then explain it. Please, do come in." Mrs. Hudson said, gesturing to the living area of the flat.
"All right." John said amicably. He picked the baby carrier up and followed Mrs. Hudson to her living room.
"Hello John." Sherlock said, rising from his seat.
"Uh, yeah, Sherlock, what did you want me for?" John asked, confused.
"The simple explanation is that I need a doctor. The longer explanation is that this man here showed up at Baker Street this afternoon. He doesn't remember his name or where he's from. He claims that the only thing he remembers is this address." Sherlock explained. John moved from the doorway and sat down, putting Kathy on the floor.
"So...what do you need me to do?" John asked, wondering what his mysterious purpose was in being called to Baker Street.
"I need you to run some tests. See if there's any brain damage or something. Something that could explain the amnesia. He says he doesn't remember if anything happened to him." Sherlock said.
"Right. Who is this 'he'?" John asked.
"That would be me." The man said. He had been silent throughout the conversation between John and Sherlock, and had been waiting for an appropriate time to interject.
"Hello. I'm John." John said, now realizing that the man sitting in the chair next to him was not in fact Sherlock's new flat mate.
"Pleasure." the man said. "So, you're a doctor then?"
"Yeah. I'm a friend of Sherlock's." John confirmed. Just then, Sherlock's mobile beeped.
"It's Molly. I have a case. You two have a nice chat, I'm going to the morgue."
Hi! It's been a while. Next time, plot twists abound! Remember to review, favorite, and follow! Starship T.A.R.D.I.S. out!