First Impressions
Chapter 00/Prologue
Sherlock Holmes x Reader
word count: ~3.000 words
warnings: swearing, talk about murder, alcoholism, drug abuse, angst, sulky reader and surely some grammatical mistakes or mistranslations :)
A/N: This is actually a kind of pilot for an actual series I am starting. I am indeed fairly new to writing fanfiction and espacially this little lovely bastard but hopefully I’ll do my fair share. So please enjoy and let me know what you think.
I also wanted to say that I am in no way an expert in forensics, biology or anything similar. All facts I use are either researched or fictitious. However, I try to come as near to the truth as possible.
You found yourself in a dark room devoid of any warmth or furniture, not even a window to determine the daytime. The only light source consisted in a naked bulb which hung still; the light beaming neiter bright nor large enough to illuminate the walls or ceiling as you made your way towards the dirty light source, the floor cracking underneath your feet as you neared.
Standing close enough to touch it, you carefully reached out for the lightbulb. Holding your breath for a second you finally gave it a spin to make the bulb turn around in circles in hope to see more of the foreign room. However, nothing new came into focus as you kept staring into empty space, the spinning light source making the atmosphere even more eerie than before.
As you were about to turn away, a blinding reflection appeared for a second making you halt in your movement. Seconds went by before the action recurred, this time revealing its location. When you took a step forward the sound of breaking glass rang out, making you direct your focus downwards in an attempt to decipher the new sensation.
Picking up a small, oblong object you stepped farther out of the light cone and recognized the item without much effort as a syringe, a dirty one at that. As soon as the term fell from your lips, a low grunt rang out which in return made you turn around. You screamed in horror as a shadowy frame hang underneath the lightbulb, desperately gasping for air while his limbs had been bound.
With shaky steps you closed in on the struggling being but as you reached out, about to touch his shoulder, you felt a hand on your own.
“Ma'am, excuse me“, a soft voice accompanied by a slight shake of your shoulder awoke you from your slumber. As you opened your eyes to find yourself in another foreign environment, in a confined seat surrounded by strangers and backrests, the friendly face of a young flight attendant came into your field of vision. “Ma'am, we're about to begin our final descent. Therefore I have to ask you to fasten your seat belt“, the stewardess repeated kindly.
With a short nod you quickly fiddled with the safety belt, your brain still slightly foggy from the nap and the corresponding dream. At the sound of the fastener clicking into place the young woman in costume gave you a quick smile and then continued her check down the aisle.
As you looked out of the small airplane window and saw nothing but grey clouds, you quietly scoffed; already missing the burning hot sun of Phoenix, Arizona. After graduating from the University of Arizona – the College of Medicine in Phoenix, to be quite exact – you had started to work for the Phoenix Police Department while still participating actively in the Department of Pathology at your former place of study.
However, the work with the PHXPD was not exactly as thrilling as you would have expected. Most of your 'patients' had died by some drug related crime or the drug itself wherefore the actual pathological examination proved to be less difficult than you had hoped. So when your dreaded 30th birthday rolled around and you came to the realisation that you were heading down an impasse, the decision to alter the current course wasn't that difficult.
And that's exactly how the now 32-year old you found herself on an airplane headed to England's capital with all important belonings stuffed into two large suitcases and the letter of resignation back home on your employer's desk. However rash that decision might have seemed and no matter your family's protests, till the moment you boarded the plane almost ten hours ago you didn't doubt your decision; feeling almost encouraged by the outcry you had caused.
With a sigh you teared your eyes away from the cloudy view and redirected your attention towards the slight mess you had created before falling asleep. As your departure was at quite short notice and you didn't like to leave unfinished buisness behind, you chose to take some unsolved cases with you, including a quite unsettling case, a young gang member's corpse being found drifting through the Gila River, which had occupied your mind just before your involuntary nap.
This may not seem out of the ordinary if it wasn't for the man to die from asphyxiation. And although throughout your examination you had found multiple indications for physical abuse, neither of those were from strangulation or the like which could have led to suffocation.
However, as you took another look at the forensic report everything seemed so painfully obvious. Quickly grabbing the toxicologic report you scanned the results for a certain data and as you finally found the object of desire you had to fight the urge to smite your forehead.
You emptied the rest of your overprized gin and tonic in one gulp before rapidly typing away on your laptop, determined to finish the covering letter before deboarding as you had just solved the case in your sleep – quiet literally.
“No, listen to me“, you audibly groaned on your way to the baggage claim, the mobile phone pressed to your ear since you had stepped out of the airplane, “Bobby, if you'd just shut your mouth for a minute, I might not have to repeat every second sentence.“
You really weren't a short-tempered person, cross your heart, simply incredibly impatient. Since early days you had been irritated by the obvious inability of your fellows to follow your trains of thoughts, always feeling pressured to slow down which in return made you even more frustrated.
However, as time went by and you grew older you found a way to at least dial it down a notch in 'emergency situations'. The initial bad habit to sometimes drink one to many became a slight addiction to more often than not being at least a bit tipsy; numbing your brain to slow down your racing mind.
“Yes, I am well aware of the time difference but as criminals never rest, lawmen shouldn't either“, you reasoned while your destination came into view, the first suitcases and carpetbags already passing by on the baggage conveyer belt. As you heard light snorring instead of an answer you shouted loudly into the speaker, “I finally understand how they murdered him!“
As soon as the sentence had left your lips, you felt countless pairs of eyes on you; some passerby even stopped in their tracks to cut you a look. Looking around you mouthed an inaudible 'What?', forcing yourself to look more confident than you actually felt, and continued your way, hopeful to now have your collocutor's attention.
“I hope this is a good one“, Bob murmured while you heard rustling in the background, he was probably leaving the bed as to not disturb his wife. As he rambled on you arrived at the baggage carousel, standing between other passengers who had already found their luggage.
“Cry me a fucking river, Bob“, you taunted absentmindedly while scanning your surroundings, quickly growing impatient as you waited for your baggage. Looking to your left you saw a small child at the hand of her mother who shot you a deadly glare; probably for swearing within earshot of her offspring that was surely too busy watching items of luggage rolling by on the baggage conveyer belt to listen to some stranger's phone call.
“Do you remember how I had a hard time understanding how someone could die by suffocation with neither external influence nor pulmonary aspiration? And yet it is so painfully obvious that it must have been too easy for me to see. The drugs, Bobby, it's his addiction!“, you explained, earning a few more irritated side glances. “So what?“, Bob asked, his voice still laced with sleep and now additionally incomprehension, “The little junky took an overdose?“
“No, no, quiet the opposite actually. His body did not only show symptoms of regular drug use, which doesn't come as a surprise considering his presumable addiction, but they also found evidence for recent drug withdrawal. That was the missing piece, Bobby, don't you understand?!“, you asked excitedly. Your question was answered by a short peroid of silence, followed by a deep-drawn sigh and a muttered, “Do me the favour and just tell me.“
If it hadn't been for the importance of the current phone conversation, you would have ended the call at this point. Explaining an officer how the cause of death was brought about was basically solving the case for him. However, as your luggage seemed to be long in coming you chose to elaborate.
“Okay, listen and listen closely. The victim showed signs of physical abuse in form of possible captivation which means that he quiet surely wasn't able to satisfy his cravings and therefore went through an involuntary withdrawal. This 'shock theraphy' probably resulted in a seizure which thereupon led to the asphyxiation and due to the lack of medical intervention his death.
I just gave the results from the toxicology a once over and all indications are that his serotonin as well as the noradrenaline level must have been extremely low which would complement my assumption about the deprivation and considering his physical condition I am confident that my presumption concerning the captivity will turn out to be true as well.
I already sent an email to my replacement in the pathology department to run another test on the victim concerning his external injuries and as soon as I arrive at the hotel I'll send you my report on the current data which I worked with. If you'll excuse me now, I still have a busy schedule ahead of me and there are only so many hours in the day.“
Without awaiting an answer you ended the call and with a smile on your face put the phone in your jeans' backpocket. However, as you realised that the conveyer belt had come to a halt without a trace of your luggage your facial features derailed. Spinning on your heel you quickly made your way to the next information while holding your handbag close in a futile attempt to slow your racing thoughts and heart.
You stared wide eyed at the middle-aged woman sitting behind the counter, wearing a sympathetic look on her face. “I am truly sorry, Miss, but it seems like your luggage wasn't on the plane. Our personnel could not find it either in the cargo area or somewhere on the way to the baggage claim“, she explained once more.
“But that is impossible“, you choked out, “All my belonings, clothes were in those two suitcases and you are telling me that you lost them? How is that even possible?“ Just as the woman was about to answer your rhethorical question, the ringing of her phone stopped her before you could, saving her from further embarrasment. While she concentrated her attention on the computer, typing away on the console, you had time to check your phone, only to realise that you had already wasted two precious hours in this maze called airport.
“Thank you, I'll inform her immediately“, the female sighed into the telephone before hanging up. Before she even managed to address you, you stood at the desk and asked hopefully, “So, you did find them? Oh, thank god. I wouldn't have known what to do without them. Where exactly can I pick-“ - “Miss, we indeed did find your luggage. However, I must inform you that your suitcases are currently in Madrid.“ The last part was a slightly whispered answer, followed by an unsettling long pause.
“I do not expect that you have by any chance a town called Madrid in England?“, you muttered tiredly although the question sounded more like a half hearted joke which the staff member answered with a shake of her head. Suddenly you felt exhausted, tired and absolutely fed up with the whole situation. Massaging the bridge of your nose, you chose to end this conversation as quickly as possible; not like it was leading anywhere wherefore you quietly asked, “How long?“
After a quick look into her computer she informed you that it should take about three days, maximum five. At this point you just accepted your fate silently, leaving behind your phone number and e-mail address if by a fluke your luggage would arrive any sooner. The woman apologized again profoundly before releasing you by wishing you – quite ironically – a 'good day'.
On your way out, you made a quick stop at one of the airports' outpriced shops to buy some necessities. The cashier, probably a student who needed to make money on the side, shot a scornful glance at you as he scanned your purchase consisting of a fresh-perked coffee and a bottle of whiskey.
While the young man put away the cash you opened the bought liquor, opened the lid of your steaming coffee and poured some of the spirit into your caffeinated drink. As you took a sip and tasted the delightful flavor on your tongue a content sigh fell from your lips; answered by a quiet snicker from the male student.
“Listen, kid“, you warned the boy while you stored the liquor away in your purse – your only luggage at the given moment. With a quick once-over you knew that the male behind the counter had it coming; glazed over eyes due to increased production of lachrymal fluid, chapped lips and lastly a light swelling of the lymph node meant that the poor boy would be laid low with a pretty nasty flue in a few days.
A dry chuckle escaped your lips before you rummaged through your handbag, all the while lecturing, “First of, if you haven't heared of Irish Coffee, then you should probably rethink your attitude to life. Secondly, you have no idea how shitty this day has been so far.“ As you finally found what you were looking for, you tossed the item in his direction while adding with a frosty smile, “And lastly, my bad habits surely shouldn't be your greatest concern.“
Whit that you took your coffee and left the store behind with the boy looking back and forth between your departing form and the package of tissues.
You couldn't help the content sigh that fell from your lips as you finally breathed fresh air; and although it was slightly drizzling by now, the cooling effect was more than welcome as you were practically fuming with rage at this point. As you dragged your feet towards the street to hail down a taxi, your rational side managed to regain the upper hand after being too emotional for the last two hours.
Straightening your back and raking your fingers through your hair to look the least bit presentable, you whistled with your fingers to catch some taxidrivers attention. With a small smile adorning your lips as seconds later a taxi stopped you walked towards to vehicle; only to be outrun by two men, the smaller one opening the door while the taller man tipped away on his mobile phone, mumbling to himself.
“Excuse me“, you shrieked furiously, admittedly louder than you intended to but as the one holding the car door open focused his attention on you, it obviously had served the purpose. With a smile that didn't reach your eyes and a bitter sweet voice that dripped with venom you purred: “I believe that is my cab.“
While the blonde one quickly let go of the car door, wearing a guilty expression mixed with a tinge of embarrasment, his friend didn't seem to mind the inconvenience as he began to step into the taxi, not even bothering to spare you a glance. With a quick movement you banged your fist on the car roof which in return made the man stop in his tracks. “I think you failed to hear, sir“, you repeated sibilantly, “This happens to be my cab.“
As you looked angrily at the male he scanned you blatantly, only for his expression to grow even colder as he retorted monotone, “You are already late so I don't see the necessity for your rush.“ Shocked not only by his straightforwardness but the veracity of his claim as well, you failed to come up with incisive answer, only hissing a half-hearted 'You don't know the last thing about me'. Misinterpreting the retort as a challenge the dark haired man turned around, beginning to slowly stroll around all the while ignoring his friend's attempts to stop him.
“Early thirties which would explain your decision for a significant life change like – in your case – leaving Arizona; an age in which the average person decides to conduct a sort of 'life audit' to assess meaningfulness and satisfaction. The farewell must have been quiet tearful considering the residue of lachrymal fluid on your shoulder; your mother must weep easily, doesn't she?
However, considering the evident lack of luggage you either a) had it collected or b) the airline must have made a mistake which is much more likely due to your tense posture and the alcohol you mixed in your coffee; don't you think ten o'clock in the morning is a bit early to drink?
Which overall brings me to my original assessment of your lateness. After all, as an arrival you surely had an appointment for the key delivery which you must have missed by now. Therefore, it shouldn't be to much of a hastle to wait for the next vehicle and leave this taxi to us.“ His deduction concluded with a fatigued sigh from his companion.
You were taken aback. It was neither do to his perceptions and following conclusions being spot-on nor because of the obviousness he stated those facts with but the simple aspect of meeting someone who was able to talk even more than you made you speechless. As you made eye contact with the other man he gave you a compassionate smile, implying that his friend's remarks weren't anything out of the ordinary. But no matter the impressive demonstration, you weren't about to loose this fairly one-sided verbal exchange.
“Impressive“, you cooed, trying to keep your composure which proofed to be a difficult task, “Right down to the last detail, except for one minor exception.“ At these words the dark haired man stopped in his tracks, keeping his back turned to you. You couldn't fight down the smug smile that overtook your features – admittedly, you didn't try to either – as you heared his deep voice asking: “And what would that be?“
You shot his companion a knowing look and although you weren't quite sure why, his features held the same smug look present on your face as he let go of the door, stepping back onto the pavement. Stepping inside the car, you calmly answered, “That this is my cab.“ With that you shut the door while the dark haired man turned around, an unreadable expression on his face as the car drove off with the two men standing at the roadside and you sitting inside the taxi.
“Whereto, Miss?“, the taxidriver asked, a slight tinge of petulance evident in his voice. As you turned around, looking through the rear window to see the tall man standing in the same position as you had left him while his friend hailed down another cab, you answered with a smile on your face, “236 Baker Street, please.“