Chasing the tesseract

Chapter 53

"Well what do you think?"

A small woman lies on the floor, her hair falling into her face, the pink dress that clings tightly to her frame matching the polish that stains her nails. A small bracelet frames her left wrist, two rings digging into the flesh of her ring finger as she lay, flat on her stomach on a wooden floor.

"She's wearing too much pink." I chuckle, crossing my arms against my chest and staring down at the poor woman. Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pushes past me, grunting for me to shut up as he passes by. Once he's reaches the woman, he bobs down and reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a small magnifying glass and beginning to examine the body. Such a spoil sport. Just like Stephen.

"She's German." announces a voice from the door, every head in the room whipping around to find a figure leaning against the door frame. Stephens figure. Shrugging his shoulders, he stands up straighter and points down to the floor beside the woman where the word "rache" is carved. "Rache is German for revenge."

Blinking a few times to check I'm not imagining big things, I stare at him through narrowed eyes. "Are you following me?"

"No I'm erm... No I-" Stephen stumbles for words, shuffling in his place, scratching the back of his head with his hand as his eyes trace the floor. Rolling his eyes, Sherlock shivers the magnifying glass back into his pocket before marching across the room toward the door.

"Yes he is. Now leave us alone." Sherlock hisses, pushing the door closed and twisting the lock with a click, ignoring Stephens protest on the other side. After checking nobodies watching, I take a deep breath and let my power flow around the room, casting a spell that'll stop Stephen from just using a portal to get inside. "Now, back to the case, what do you think?"

Quickly shaking off the glow around my hand, I glance up to find Sherlock starring at me expectantly. Glancing towards Lestrade, I point to myself, the two of them nodding as they wait for my response. "Oh I'm not a detective."

"Just do as he says, help yourself." Lestrade grunts, shaking his head before twisting the lock and marching out the door, Sherlock locking it again as he leaves.

"What am I doing?" I asks him, bending down beside the body at the same time he does. He offers me a pair of rubber gloves, glancing up at me through his curly hair as I take them and pull them on.

"Just tell me what you see." he demands, handing me a small magnifying glass as I swallow hard. Looking closely at her hand, I notice the scratches on her rings, all her other jewelry clean except the wedding ring. Gently, I slide it off her hand to reveal the shine inside it. Definitely removed regularly then.

"This would be so much easier if you'd stop staring." I hiss, feeling Sherlocks eyes on my face whilst I continue to search her body. Next, I pull out her umbrella, the surface of it dry. And yet her coat is wet. "She's been somewhere it's rained but hasn't used her umbrella. Most likely because it was too windy."

"Perfectly sound analysis but I was hoping you'd go deeper." Sherlock mumbles as he stand up, removing his own gloves and stuffing them inside one of the millions of pockets within his jackets.

"Okay but just don't freak out." I warn him, taking a deep breath as I smile up at him. He's so going to freak out but at least I was polite and warned him. I mean, that makes me a good person right?

Narrowing his eyes, Sherlock shakes his head in confusion. Sighing, I pull off my gloves, hovering my hand over the woman's head as I dive inside. A glow of white surrounding the two of us and causing Sherlock to stumble backwards. Ignoring the lamp he knocks over, I concentrate as thousands of memories flood into my mind. After finding the one of the accident and pulling it from her mind and into my own, I take a deep breath, my magic fading away as I breathe out.

"What was that?" Sherlock asks, his whole body frozen in shock as he stares at me, his face pale. Blinking rapidly, he takes a deep breath, panic invading his body for the first time since I've met him.

"I looked inside her mind, at her memories of the accident." I explain softly, pulling myself up off the ground and stepping toward him. Standing up straighter, Sherlock fixes his jacket, turning up the collar on his coat and clearing his throat.

"That doesn't make sense." he argues causing a small chuckle to escape my lips. Now why does that seem so familiar? Stephen said the exact same thing when he learned of the magic within the world. I guess maybe they're not so different after all. And what was it the Ancient One said to him? Not everything will? No that's not right.

"Not everything does, not everything has to."