Palace of the Mind

“Molly, I–” He cleared his throat. He honestly had no idea how to start. Or- what even to say.

No, she wasn’t happy. Leave it to Sherlock to get something  like that out of her with no context at all behind it. She wanted  to get in his face and tell him how she felt, give him a piece  of her mind, but she wouldn’t.

At least he had savaed her life.

Sherlock peered down from the fire escape, looking upon the crime scene below him. A dead body. A lot of blood. it indicated that it was a mindless, emotional attack. Could have been a friend, but there was an element of coolness and detachment between the murderer and the victim. Tilting his head, he smiled a little, before the smile suddenly dropped. He was spotted.

“Oi, you! get down from there! You shouldn’t be here!”

He groaned, and leaned back. This always happened. He had hoped the population of Winchester would have been a bit more lenient. Obviously not. But then, maybe they would listen to him.

He climbed down, and landed with an oof at the bottom. Before they could do anything, though, Sherlock motioned to the body. “If you listen to me, I have some deductions that may be able to help you in this investigati–”

“This ain’t no place for a kid. Shoo!”

They never listened. Sherlock was already irritated. “The killer is probably a stranger. There’s emotion here but not for the victim– they didn’t know each oth-”

“i said get out, kid! We’re busy!”

“…” Sherlock stared at the man, before tightening his fists, and looked at the body again. “I won’t give up.” He muttered, looking back to the man, before stepping back and moving out of the alley. Or so they saw. He stopped as soon as he turned the corner, waited for a minute, before peering back in.

Sherlock peered down from the fire escape, looking upon the crime scene below him. A dead body. A lot of blood. it indicated that it was a mindless, emotional attack. Could have been a friend, but there was an element of coolness and detachment between the murderer and the victim. Tilting his head, he smiled a little, before the smile suddenly dropped. He was spotted.

“Oi, you! get down from there! You shouldn’t be here!”

He groaned, and leaned back. This always happened. He had hoped the population of Winchester would have been a bit more lenient. Obviously not. But then, maybe they would listen to him.

He climbed down, and landed with an oof at the bottom. Before they could do anything, though, Sherlock motioned to the body. “If you listen to me, I have some deductions that may be able to help you in this investigati–”

“This ain’t no place for a kid. Shoo!”

They never listened. Sherlock was already irritated. “The killer is probably a stranger. There’s emotion here but not for the victim– they didn’t know each oth-”

“i said get out, kid! We’re busy!”

“…” Sherlock stared at the man, before tightening his fists, and looked at the body again. “I won’t give up.” He muttered, looking back to the man, before stepping back and moving out of the alley. Or so they saw. He stopped as soon as he turned the corner, waited for a minute, before peering back in.

At that, Sherlock hesitated, but didn’t move from where he was. He simply shook his head and continued to inspect the area. ❝And… let me guess. You also have an incredibly annoying brother named Mycroft, a best friend called John Watson, and an enemy that goes by the name of Moriarty. Oh, and you’re a genius, but an anti-social one who indulges in the practice of crime solving for a hobby. Did I miss anything out?❞

      [Holmes raises an eyebrow as he tilts his head, his gaze flickering across the man’s sharp features.] Right on all accounts, almost, but you did indeed miss something out. I also have a landlady named Mrs Hudson, and a dog named Gladstone. What you weren’t correct on, however, was in calling it a hobby. I’m paid for my work, and consulted on the rest by the Yard.