The First Step: Day Two

Sherlock and I had looked all over the apartment for any clues that could have led to where the girlfriend had gone but there was nothing. I couldn’t tell what she had done after all this. We went back to 221B and Sherlock informed Lestrade of the death and to let him know when a body was found and where. He wanted to get everything he could as soon as he could, information, facts, he wanted to see everything as soon as he could. As soon as we got to the flat I sat down and went to my mind street, picked out all the information, every detail I could find and focused on the layout. I kept my mind trained like this, going over the cases that Sherlock had solved and finally had my own.

I could feel him looking at me and it was beginning to put me off. All I had to do was think it before I could feel him look away from me. He walked out of the room and into the kitchen letting me think before I finished and pulled myself out of my thoughts. I felt an odd tension in the air as he looked over to me.

“It’s odd being the distraction. It’s odd coming across anyone that can use the Mind Palace like I can.” His words were calm, soft but still deep and rough. “Now I understand what John feels like.”

“Oh you do, do you?” John’s voice called as he came up the stairs back from work. “I take it but the wall having a lack of holes means you kept yourself entertained.”

I’d gotten used to the random bouts of boredom Sherlock would have (and refuse to give up if it meant entertaining his brother), the beautiful melodies he would play, write and enjoy. It was odd being the replacement even if Sherlock didn’t see me as important as he saw John. To see the slight joy in Sherlock’s eyes when he heard John, the slight happy tension that ran through his body, the small smile that came to his face every time he saw him. These were small things he never seemed to do with me. I know he didn’t know he did it, yet I wished he knew, I wish he would do the same with me.

I sat there and just went back before hearing the text tone on Sherlock’s phone. He was busy talking with John before so I took it. What I saw shocked me, I had been expecting the text, waiting for it even though it was starting to get late. What shocked me was that there was not just one body discovered.

“Sherlock, it’s Lestrade, he found them.” I could feel the confused look on his face and looked over to him. “Both of them have been found. I guess you should take John with now, you’re more comfortable with him and now it’s become more than just a simple case. More along the lines of Holmes and his Watson.”

“If you wish.” Was all his reply before he pulled on his coat on turning to the door walking out. John hovered and I just shooed him away just wanting to rest now, I felt tired, trying to use my mind the way I had, the strict focus and concentration. My mind hadn’t been used with such focus like that, in an actual case before and all I felt was worn.


The First Step: Day One

This case started very simply. It seemed like something so very minor, a missing friend. Someone that had disappeared a few days ago, a friend that came to us worried about why they would just vanish the way they had. I had been part of the private investigations with Sherlock and Watson for a while now. He taught me simple things, minor things, how to notice small details. I had picked everything up watching him and John and this was to be the first case he would let me have with just him. 

The man was young, same age as me, and ridiculously flirty. He was handsome but that was all he had. I could tell he had a different girl every night just by the look of how he dressed. (Oh god Sherlock’s wearing off on me) He just made me feel uncomfortable with how he looked at me. There was something about him I didn’t like but couldn’t place.

There was something odd about him and Sherlock noticed my apprehension but said we would take the case. We went to the home of the man that disappeared and looked at everything. Sherlock looked round first but said very little. He seemed to wait for me to comment, to notice small details, there were faint footprints, faint stains on the floors, small drops of blood. I couldn’t tell what happened yet, not fully, but I looked harder. I took my time. Every small detail seemed to impress him, seemed to bring pride as if I were a project.

I focused, used the trick he had, imagined my road, my path that sent me to every piece of information I could find. My mind raced, traced every minor speck of information taken in that I might not have registered. I closed my eyes, made everything click, blend everything together. 

It was the girlfriend. Small hairs in the blood, there suck, dried in it. Sherlock smirked proudly when he saw me look over.

“The girlfriend, found out about his secret affair. She got angry, killed him on accident. They fought, got angry, he fell, hit his head too hard. Simple, boring. The fun part now is trying to find the body.” Sherlock seemed so very happy with my work, seemed so very proud, yet we didn’t have time to find it yet. Not today anyway. For my first case it seems exciting. I hope tomorrow is just as exciting.


Sherlock Holmes. The greatest detective in London. Better than a whole police force yet still blind to any emotions from any other person. He could use a mask of emotions, trick witnesses, fool suspects, yet he couldn’t be honest with them.

The honour of meeting him was mine not too long ago and I felt like I needed to tell others about what I experienced being around this strange and amazing man. I had the honour of meeting him by being a victim. He had figured out that I was to be the next victim in a series of murders I didn’t even know I was linked in.

He saved me, found me before the criminal could finish off his ‘game’ as Sherlock called it. The man was arrested and locked away for his crimes but I hated feeling as weak as I had done. I hated being out of control like that and I never wanted anyone to ever come across that again. I wanted to find a way to stop that from ever happening again.

Sherlock saw this in me, he didn’t even wait for the police to come to me, he picked it up quickly and read me like a book; just like he had with every other person he had ever come across. I got to work with him, find the clues, learn how to see the clues that no one else could.

Now I work with him, on every case and this will be my record. Every investigation from here on will be shown, the proof of Sherlock’s great mind and ingenious thoughts. His small blog shows what works for him but not how he works.

This will be the records in case anything ever happens to him, if anyone thinks he is cold, cruel or a freak. This will be a testament to how he works.