2 chapter 2

The two continued to silently stare at each other. The air was tense with something neither recognized nor understood. The moment lasted only a minute though.

"Sherlock!" John yelled, finally catching up, gaining the attention of both.

"Why'd you run off like that?" He didn't need Sherlock to answer though once he spotted the boy.

"Oh."

The sight of the pitiful child brought out the doctor in him. John's eyes roamed over the boy worriedly, taking in his malnourished state and searching for injuries. He wanted to move closer to get a better look but he didn't attempt to; he knew that many children that grew up on the streets were wary of strangers, and with good reason. There was very little chance he would feel comfortable with John's presence.

The child looked uninjured but there was no way of knowing for sure from this distance. He looked into the child's face and found himself seized by his powerful gaze. Those dark eyes were boring into him. How could John explain them really? They were intense and piercing but also heavy with intelligence and awareness; they reminded him of a certain consulting detective. They were sort of lifeless as well but that was expected of anyone that saw the darker, unforgiving side of life. He had seen that same lifelessness in his own eyes after the war. Lestrade's sudden arrival broke through his thoughts.

"Who's this, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked, staring at the child.

"This, Inspector, is a witness." Sherlock announced.

"You mean he witnessed the murder?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"No, he witnessed a carjacking." Sherlock replied sarcastically. "Of course he witnessed the murder." Lestrade scowled at him but didn't comment.

"So we need to ask him about the murderer?" John didn't look very sure of the idea.

"Not necessarily, John. Did you forget that I'm here?" John sighed as Sherlock's massive ego reared its head. "However, a first hand account of the murder might actually satisfy those idiots at Scotland Yard."

"Watch it." Lestrade warned but he was used to Sherlock's insults.

The child had been watching them this whole time. His eyes roamed over each one but the tall man with the dark hair was like a magnet with his high energy and arrogant speech; no matter what his eyes always ended up back on him. They didn't seem to mean him any harm but he knew that he would most likely end up in an orphanage if he went with them. He shuddered at the thought. His eyes darted down to where there was a small gap between the men that he could just fit through. Those pale eyes were on him the instant the thought crossed his mind, locking him in place.

"I wouldn't recommend that. Waste of energy and effort." He said with a sudden serious tone, which made his voice all the deeper. The man grinned suddenly while placing a hand on the shoulder of the man next to him.

"John here has quick reflexes." John was confused at first but understood quickly enough and stood alert and ready just in case the child ran anyway.

"You're best option is to come with us. I assure you a couple of questions, though annoying, won't harm you." He stared at the child, waiting, and the child stared right back. Neither looked away for what felt like a long time. Finally, the boy stood up on weak legs and slowly shuffled their way. Sherlock grinned but said nothing more.

John watched, amazed at how easily Sherlock had spoken and convinced the boy; he never seemed to have any patience for children before. The boy was clearly different though. He showed no signs of trauma, or at least none that seemed to stem from the murder he supposedly witnessed. It made John wonder what else the child had witnessed and at the same time he didn't wish to know.

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Sherlock paced irritably outside the room where the boy was being questioned. Someone thought it best to send Donovan in to do the questioning, probably under the stupid assumption that the boy would warm up to her because she was a woman. Those idiots didn't seem to understand that not every woman fit the maternal figure that some abandoned or neglected children were drawn to. Donovan definitely didn't. She was far too harsh and impatient for this. She had been in there for a while and the boy still hadn't said a word.

"Let me speak with him." Sherlock insisted again, stopping to face Lestrade. The man hesitated for a few seconds but then sighed.

"Alright, Sherlock but only for a few minutes." Sherlock wasted no time and yanked the door open without knocking. Donovan was just as happy as always to see him when he entered the room.

"What freak?" She snapped. Sudden movement from the boy caught his eye but he kept his focus on Donovan for the moment.

"Lestrade allowed me some time with him. If you would…" He gestured to the door. She glared at him but still stood up with a scoff.

"Try not to scare him."

He eagerly shut the door behind her. He turned to the boy. He was already watching him just like back in the alley. Sherlock slowly sat down in the recently abandoned chair. He leaned forward and overlapped his fingers in front of his face. He stared over them at the boy, taking in the little details he was unable to see before. The boy sat hunched forward in his chair, as if trying to make himself seem smaller or maybe because his body had grown accustomed to the position from many days and nights huddled up to protect from the cold and rain. Those wider than normal eyes peered at him through messy bangs. His posture implied nervousness but his eyes showed interest and curiosity.

"Freak." He suddenly said. The boy flinched, reacting the same as earlier.

"I see…you've been called that before." The boy's eyes remained glued to his but his head lowered further, nearly blocking his sight with those unruly bangs.

"Was it because of your appearance? Or because of this?" He smoothly tapped a finger against his own temple. The child said nothing but his eyes darted down, finally breaking the intense eye contact.

"Is that why you won't talk? Afraid to show how smart you are?" No response but he knew he was spot on.

"Such a waste of effort." Those eyes looked up again.

"No matter how hard you try, you won't be able to hide it forever. You should use it then… as John would say, help someone and do some good." He shrugged. "I do what I do so my brain won't rot from boredom." The child's eyes bored into him again but still he said nothing. Sherlock knew he was just about to crack though so he pushed on.

"I don't need your account of what happened to solve this case but I'm willing to let you help. Maybe then you'll understand what you should do." And there it was. The shift in those eyes was encouraging enough.

"So…let's start again, shall we?" He leaned forward. "What is your name?" The boy paused but finally spoke with a weak monotone voice.

"L…L Lawliet." Sherlock grinned at his victory.

"Sherlock Holmes. Now, how about you tell me what happened in that alleyway."

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The culprit was quickly identified and arrested. Sherlock led the police in the right direction and L verified the killer's identity. The small victory clearly sparked something in the boy. Sherlock saw the boy's eyes shine as he watched the man being taken away. He clearly felt accomplished in his small contribution. This was something he'd no doubt want to do again.

The boy shyly peeked up at him through his bangs and smiled. It was a small, insecure smile and yet it stirred something in him, something he wasn't going to admit or even acknowledge. He would admit the intrigue he was feeling though. It was rare to find someone so intelligent at such a young age. His brother and himself were the only ones he knew of. He was curious to see just how intelligent he really was. It also wouldn't hurt to help him hone his deduction skills. He wasn't sure if he was cut out to be a mentor but it would definitely prove to be an interesting pastime in any case.

"We'll have to bring him to one of the orphanages?" Lestrade said, staring in the direction of the waiting room where the boy was now sitting.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll take him in." Sherlock announced. Both men looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"You'll look after him?" Lestrade asked slowly, as if he thought he had heard him wrong.

"Of course not. However, I'm sure John is more than capable to do so." He glanced over at the man, ready for the protests.

"What? No, Sherlock. You can't just dump a kid onto me. Look after him yourself if you're so insistent on taking him in." Sherlock smirked.

"Why, John. I never knew you saw me fit to raise a child by myself." John stared at him silently then realization struck.

"Damn it." He let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. There's no way I'd let him suffer the fate of being in your care." Sherlock fixed his scarf, preparing to leave.

"Now I believe you are exaggerating."

"You know I'm not, Sherlock. You barely feed yourself." He pointed out. Sherlock just looked away with a roll of his eyes.

Lestrade watched the two, still unsure whether this was a good idea. He knew there was little chance of changing Sherlock's mind once he was set on something though. He walked off with a sigh, thinking how he was going to explain this to the child.

John remained at Sherlock's side as they waited for Lestrade to tell the child of what was about to become of him. He was still shocked and baffled by the whole thing himself.

"Are we actually going to take this child in?"

"Yes we are." Sherlock said with certainty, typing rapidly on his phone.

"Why? I doubt we are the best option for him. Maybe we should do what Lestrade suggested." Sherlock tensed beside him then looked his way. John was taken aback by the hard, steeled look in his eyes. Sherlock looked away a second later and relaxed but his voice was still firm and tense.

"Yes John. Let's send him to an orphanage where he'll be ostracized for knowing things he shouldn't but does just from observing."

"You don't know that." John tried to reason, still a bit on edge from the unexpected shift in the man's demeanor.

"Oh, but I do and clearly he does as well. Otherwise he would have gone there on his own. He's certainly clever enough." John had nothing to say to that. The man's tone softened suddenly.

"Trust me, John. Despite my lack of parental skills, I am the person he needs right now. I'm someone who can understand him." He stopped almost abruptly after that. John understood why. All Sherlock's talk of sentiment showed that he didn't think highly of it and he had been really close to showing sentiment just then if he hadn't already. No doubt he'd pretend this whole conversation never happened and John would follow along like always.

He decided not to bring up the orphanage again. He'd just have to do the best he could with the boy. He'd always have Mrs. Hudson to help. The thought of the woman made him realize something.

"Oh God. What is Mrs. Hudson going to think?" John exclaimed, lifting the still tense atmosphere.

"Don't worry, John. She'll be ecstatic." Sherlock said, looking bored and unconcerned.

"That's what I'm worried about." John mumbled to himself with a sigh.