The Truth

When Micky caught up to Detective Lestrade and Sherlock, he was not out of breath, which confirmed to Sherlock that Micky could have kept up with his girlfriend if she was running, and he stared to ramble.

"Look, I'm not sure what I saw that night. But that entire day was strange. Rose wouldn't stop looking up this Doctor, she made me drive her to a place where she could talk to someone about him, and I think his name was Clive. I waited in the car, and I could have sworn I saw the trash bin in front of me move. So I got out of my car and watched it for a while, when it ate me. I know that sounds crazy but that's what happened. Next thing I know I'm waking up somewhere dark, and cold. Rose and the Doctor saved me and London. They destroyed the plastic monsters leader and we got out back on the streets of London by traveling in a 1960's blue Police Box. It was bigger on the inside and I couldn't believe it, he told Rose it was a time machine and asked her to join him. I should have stopped her, but I didn't. I was telling the truth when I said that I didn't know where they went." Sherlock could tell that Micky half believed what he said, and that he knew some of it sounded absolutely insane.

"Are you serious? That's your story? Ha, i don't believe one word of it, do you Sherlock?" Lestrade laughed once Micky finished. Sherlock stood there thinking, it did seem ridiculous, but him mentioning a 1960's blue Police Box brought back a memory of when he was a child and had hit his hand on a similar police box. 'It couldn't be the same box, could it?' Sherlock thought to himself.

"Can I see that picture of Rose Tyler?" Sherlock asked, even though he caught a glimpse of a photo in the flat, he wanted a better look.

"You can't seriously be considering this to be possible, can you?"

"Once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true. You are the one who asked me to be on the case. Now let me help you, give me the photo." Sherlock demanded throwing his hand out for the photo. Lestrade reluctantly gave him the photo. Rose was wearing a purple shirt with a tight blazer with black jeans. She had brown eyes blond hair that came down to her shoulders and side bangs. Sherlock almost gasped as he looked at it. It was his second grade substitute teacher, Ms. Tyler. However that was not possible, Sherlock was only 7 when he first saw her, unless there was some truth to Micky's story. 'No, there couldn't possibly be.' Sherlock thought to himself. "You are sure this is Rose Tyler? This is the most update photo her mother has?" Sherlock handed the picture over to Micky.

Micky took a good look at the photo; Sherlock could tell that he really missed her. "Yeah, that's her. Jackie took that photo last year. "

Sherlock looked at the photo again, astonished. How could it be? "You said Rose went to see this Clive about the Doctor. Could you tell me what his address is?"

"Yeah, of course. Umm, got a pen and paper?" Micky asked. Lestrade pulled out his note pad and pen, and turned it to a blank page. Micky took the note pad and pen, scribbled down the address, and gave it back to Lestrade.

Lestrade looked at the address, rolled his eyes and stared at Sherlock. "Seriously? Really? You're actually going to explore this further?"

"Got a better lead, have you?" Sherlock snarled, snatching Lestrade's pad of paper. Sherlock walked around to the passenger side of the car, as Lestrade huffed and pouted annoyed that he could come up with a better lead. "Come on then, let's see what this person has to say about Rose and this Doctor she was last seen with."

Lestrade got in the car and turned it on, Micky knocked on Sherlock's side window as they began to back out. "I want to come; I have to know what happened to Rose. I can't just sit around and do nothing." Micky begged yelling through the window. Sherlock could see that he so desperately wanted to know if his story was true, that he regretted allowing Rose to go with the Doctor.

Lestrade lowered the window and explained how he couldn't come. "Sorry, but I can't let you in on an active investigation. I'm already risking everything having him on the case." He gestured to Sherlock.

"Don't worry, if we find anything you'll be one of the first person to know." Sherlock reassured him. Sherlock pulled out and lit cigarette then offered one to Lestrade, who shook his head no but mouthed 'later'. He backed out of the parking space and headed back out on the road, after which he lit his own cigarette.

Lestrade pulled up and parked across the street from the house address that Micky gave them. It was a very different scene, it was more open and of a rural area. The sun reached high noon as Sherlock got out of the car and took off his jacket reveling a tight purple shirt.

"Are you sure about this? There still time to head back to the station and think of other leads." Lestrade asked leaning against his opened door not yet out of the car.

"I need data, facts. We cannot twist facts to suit theories; we need to twist theories to suit facts." Sherlock declared closing his side car door and walking up to the house where Clive lived. Lestrade groaned and complained as he got out of his car and reluctantly followed Sherlock.

They stood at the door for a few awkward moments; Sherlock gave a cough and finally knocked on the door. A teenage boy opened the door, and gave both Lestrade and Sherlock a stern look. "Who are you?"

Before either of them could answer his mother appeared from the kitchen and approached the door. She was carrying a medium size box fill with binders and various papers. From the state of her hair, which was put into a messy bun, and her red eyes, Sherlock guessed that the family had just gone through a terrible loss. However it didn't take a genius to see that.

"I'm Detective Lestrade, and this is Sherlock Holmes. We are here..."

"We are here to investigate the murder of Clive." Sherlock interrupted. Lestrade gave a weary look at Sherlock using his peripheral vision. The mother set the box she was carrying down on the side table by the stairs, and quickly walked over to the door rubbing her eyes.

"Jeff, why don't you go outside and gather more of your father's things from the shed."

Jeff gave another stern look at Lestrade and Sherlock, and then sighed as he headed outside. His mother bit her lip trying not to cry and said, "Please, come in. My name is Kelly Backfield, Clive's wife."

"Terribly sorry for you loss, Ms. Backfield. Our deepest condolences." Sherlock acted with empathy as he stepped inside the house, though he didn't mean it.

"Just Kelly, if you don't mind please."

Lestrade, who look very confused, decided to follow Sherlock's lead. "Yes, of course. Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?" Kelly nodded and lead them just to the left into the living room sniffling.

"Umm... Could I get you some tea or something?" Kelly offered after her pathetic attempt to compose herself.

"No, I don't think we should be that long." Sherlock stated, the empathy completely gone from his voice, as he walked toward the fire place where a family picture was placed, then proceeded to sit down.

"Kelly, what exactly happened to Clive?" Lestrade questioned still slightly confused as to what Sherlock's plan was. Kelly told them about the night Clive die. How someone named Rose came to talk to him about his conspiracy theory about the Doctor. She also tried to explain who the Doctor was, but Sherlock found the information to be not very useful. It was clear that Kelly did not pay much attention to her husband's hobby, or obsession really. Their family was out doing some shopping at the mall when the store dummies came to life.

"Clive became so excited. He was so happy that he was right about his conspiracy theory with this Doctor. And then, it..." Kelly began to cry a bit then continued. "He was not right about the Doctor. He is nothing more than a myth! Some terrorist group must have been controlling the shop dummies." Her sobs turned into anger.

Sherlock became bored, and wanted to take a closer look at that box outside by the stairs. "May I use your bathroom."

"Yes, of course. It's just up the stairs and to your right." Kelly directed.

Sherlock smiled and got up from his seat. The walked out of the living room and toward the side table by the stairs. After taking a quick look around the house to make sure no one was watching, Sherlock began to rummage thought the box of binders and papers as fast as he could. It wasn't long until he was a photo of the man that Jackie and Micky described in a old photo of a family in front of the Titanic. There he was, leather Jacket and jeans, with a buzz cut. Sherlock thought he looked completely out of place, right behind it there was another picture of him, only it was in an old Chinese painting this time.

"Wha' you doing?" Jeff asked standing beside Sherlock. Sherlock stopped going through the box and turned his head towards Jeff. He had a second box of more paper and binders.

Sherlock faced Jeff properly and stated. "Looking for evidence about this Doctor. Surly even you could see that."

"I can see your looking for something, but that doesn't mean I know what."

"Hmm, who gave you that black eye?" Sherlock could see that Jeff was wearing his mother's foundation on his left eye. Sherlock didn't notice it before at the door because he didn't take a good look at it. His mother's makeup covered it well, they shared the same skin tone, but upon a closer look Sherlock could see small bits of purple and blue through the foundation.

"No one, I don't. How do you? I mean, it's nothing. Really, I'm fine." Jeff stuttered.

Sherlock really didn't care why, he just liked showing off. That and he wanted to get the kid away so he could continue his search through the box. However, Kelly and Lestrade walked out of the living room, it seemed like Lestrade was more than eager to leave. Sherlock gave a cough and turned around to face Kelly; Sherlock gave a fake smile and then picked up the box on the table and handed it to Kelly. "Well, I think we should let you get back at it. Thank you for your time."

"Of course, anything to help." Kelly stammered, still crying a little.

"Just out of curiosity, what do you plan on doing with all of your husband's notes on the Doctor?" Lestrade uttered.

"Burn them. I don't want to look at them again." Kelly stated without even blinking.

Lestrade looked over at Sherlock and gave a sigh. "Well, we thing some of his notes on the Doctor might help us with the case. May we take them off your hands?"

Kelly looked at Lestrade confused and a little outraged. "Why on earth would a police Detective want notes on a conspiracy theory that is absolutely rubbish? What help would it do for my husband's murder case!?"

Sherlock saw that Lestrade was at a loss for words. Sherlock rolled his eyes, and confessed because arguing or coming up with a better lie was a waste of time. "Alright, fine! The truth is that we are on a missing persons case, and she came here to talk to your husband about the Doctor. Who is the only lead we have and we need all the notes your husband kept on him. I thought it would be clever to try and appeal to your human nature to get the evidence we need."

Kelly's jaw dropped open, appalled, Lestrade had his face in his hand shaking back and forth, and Jeff just about dropped the box he was holding.

"Get out!" Kelly spoke with a calm voice yet still angry.

"Listen we need those notes, we can have you arrested for withholding evidence." Sherlock told Kelly.

"I said 'GET OUT!'" Kelly yelled, Lestrade opened the front door and walked out. Sherlock stayed, it only for a few seconds longer than Lestrade. Kelly slammed the box she was holding into Sherlock's torso. "Here, take it and leave. I will be sending out a complaint to Scotland Yard. Now GO!"

Sherlock walked out the door, and for some reason Jeff followed him with his own box. They got to Lestrade's car and loaded the evidence in the back.

"If you find out what really happened to my dad, please come and tell me. He may have been a nutter, but after the night he died, I'm not so sure. If the Doctors real, find him and punch him for me." Jeff told Sherlock.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"My dad alway talked about the Doctor and how he brought death with him everywhere he went, if my dad died because he was around in London, then, well." Jeff was unable to finish the sentence. Sherlock said nothing but nodded liked he was making a promise, feeling very awkward. Jeff smiled a little than ran back to his house and Sherlock got in the car.

"Just a tip for next time Sherlock," Lestrade began while he was lighting a cigaret. He finally got it lit and puffed out the first smoke. " Don't try and be clever to get evidence." The engine turned over and Lestrade began to drive back to the station.

Sherlock lit his own cigar, and rolled the window down a bit. "Yes, we'll to be fair, I did only get 4 hours of sleep. If that, seeing as how you still made me sleep in a holding cell last night." Sherlock pointed out. After their meeting at 1:30 in the morning, Lestrade sent Sherlock back to the holding cell block.

"Well, I couldn't let you go. Cigarettes are fine, but I wasn't going to risk you getting into other things." Lestrade replied. "I don't trust you, fully yet."

Hope you are enjoying this. School has made me slow at writing but there is lots more to come with this story. Make sure you comment, as your feedback helps me become better with staying on track with characters, and little details. :)