1 Chapter 1

The small dead-end alleyway was a world all its own as rain pattered against the cobblestone streets, drowning out the sounds of passing cars and casting a blurry cloak over the outside world with its mist. The small bundle in said alley that most passed by without seeing stirred slightly, trying to burrow itself further into the semi-dry corner. Small hands pulled a ripped blanket tighter over unruly bangs, trying to cover as much of the shivering body they belonged to as possible. Dark, piercing eyes peered out from the makeshift shelter, attempting to see through the heavy mist and warily observe the few passing stragglers that were seeking shelter of their own. The eyes finally drifted close when there were no further stragglers. Sleep was hard coming though as the small body was wracked with shivers.

Loud yelling suddenly pierced through the thundering rain, prompting those eyes to open once more. Two men spilled into the alleyway amid a violent scuffle that proceeded to get more and more heated. Harsh words were hurled back and forth though the child heard nothing distinguishable. Those dark eyes watched the slightly blurry figures shove and pummel each other against the harsh brick walls.

The shared hostility reached its peak when a deafening, echoing bang filled the alleyway. One man staggered back against the wall then slid down to the ground, no doubt bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound. The shooter stared down at the man without saying anything. A sudden passing car lit up the alleyway, bathing the shooter's face in temporary light. The child's eyes instinctively roamed over the man's face, taking in every little detail. The sound of the car seemed to snap the man from his thoughts. He stuffed the gun away then fled the alleyway, abandoning the other man on the ground.

There was dead silence now; not even the lessening rain really registered in the child's mind. The child's eyes drifted down to where the other man was still slumped over. A fierce curiosity seized the child, prompting him to shakily rise to his feet. He stumbled over towards the body, making sure to avoid the growing pool of blood. He stared down at the man. The still chest and blank eyes told him that the man had passed. The once crisp, now blood soaked, suit told him that the man was most likely a businessman of some sort. Morbid fascination kept him staring for a long while, taking in other little details about the man.

The sound of sirens startled him, making him reel back, right into the pool of blood. The feel of the still semi-warm liquid on his barefoot distracted him for a second. He snapped back quickly though. He pulled the blanket tighter around his body then fled the alleyway, going the opposite way the police were coming. He didn't make it far before exhaustion hit. He tuckered down in another alley not too far away, breathing heavily. He rested there a few minutes. A sudden yell down the street made him tense.

"Sherlock! Where are you going?"

Whoever was yelling was getting closer. He shuffled back into the corner, making himself as small as possible, as the pounding of feet got closer. A tall figure appeared at the entrance of the alleyway, looking around hurriedly. The man took a step inside and turned intense pale blue eyes on him, taking in every inch of him in a way that was familiar to the boy. The man's lips pulled back into a somewhat smug smirk.

"Found you."

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"I keep telling you that it was the sister in law."

"And I'm telling you that doesn't make sense. Why would she kill him?" Lestrade snapped.

"UGH!" Sherlock groaned as he paused in his agitated pacing. "It doesn't make sense to you because you can't understand the obvious."

"Sherlock…" John chided softly. The whole ordeal was interrupted as Donovan entered the office. She glared briefly at Sherlock before speaking to Lestrade.

"Suspected shooting near King's Road." Lestrade got up to follow her. He hesitated then turned to Sherlock.

"I'll send someone to pick up the sister later." Sherlock smirked at him but said nothing at John's sharp look.

"We'll come along and help." Sherlock said instead, moving through the door before Lestrade could protest. Lestrade stared after him then sighed, suddenly looking much older.

"Sorry Lestrade." John said as he followed after his irritating flat mate.

The crime scene looked simple enough; nothing out of the ordinary that would really warrant Sherlock Holmes' attention. There was a man lying dead from a bullet wound to the abdomen with signs of a scuffle happening before the gunshot. Sherlock crouched next to the body and quickly scanned every inch of it. He stood up and turned towards the waiting onlookers. He paused for effect, letting them dwell in anticipation.

"Businessman. 38 years old. Married 3 years or so. Evidence of fight starts a little away from the entrance of alley, which means he wasn't suddenly pulled into it. Not a random assault or robbery. Started off as an altercation then, didn't get physical until the killer and he reached the alley. It was someone he knew. Look into people he knows, specifically his co-workers. It will be someone who…"

"Sherlock?" John inquired worriedly, seeing the man trail off suddenly. The man was too busy staring at the ground to pay him any mind. He crouched to look closer at a small bloody blotch upon the concrete. He scrutinized it for a second then looked towards the entrance. Upon closer inspection, he saw there were several similar blotches that were nearly washed away by the rain.

Footprints he realized…exceptionally small ones. A child's then. The victim doesn't have any children. A child of the killer? No, even if the killer did have children, there was very little chance he'd have one with him when the murder happened. What would a child be doing here then if it wasn't the child of either the victim or the killer?

Ah! A witness!

He quickly followed the footprints, hearing but ignoring John's question about where he was going. He knew John would follow anyway.

The footprints were harder to follow out on the street, where they were further exposed to rain but he still managed. They led to another alley not too far from where the murder took place. He entered the alley and instantly spotted the child huddling in the corner. A boy of around 8 or 9 years of age. Homeless and malnourished. Dark hair hidden under a ripped, hole-ridden blanket. The boy was staring at him with the darkest eyes Sherlock had ever seen.

"Found you." The boy said nothing. He just stared with piercing eyes that struck a chord in Sherlock…he's seen eyes like those before. It took him a second to realize where.

Ah, he thought, they're the same as mine.