Fracture: A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Gingers Strike Again… Probably.

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Whispers filled the hallways of Linford Middle School three days after the murder on Amelia Avenue. All day, I passed giggling girls on the way to my classes. They were huddled in groups, quietly talking and flailing and the other things girls do when they’re smitten with someone. There was a suspicious amount of them hovering outside Room 122, the class that served as an English classroom during school hours and a detention after the final class was dismissed.

Apparently, we had a new teacher, and according to mostly everyone, he was quite the looker. I couldn’t form my own opinion, though, since he wasn’t my English instructor. And thank God he wasn’t. I don’t think I’d be able to handle sitting in a classroom of girls swooning over the teacher without wanting to throw something at the whiteboard. Hearing them at it in the halls was bad enough.

I wasn’t the only one irritated at the ‘darkly inebriating professor of linguistics’, as I’d heard one guy in my geometry class put it. Sadie was raging. Her face was contorted into such a scowl that I was certain if she kept it up, it’d be stuck like that forever. She kept muttering indiscernible words under her breath, and whenever she passed a giggler, her fists would clench as if she’d like nothing more than to punch one of them in the jaw.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” I asked as we were sitting at lunch.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t say that, Liam. This isn’t the twentieth century.” She glowered down at her lunch tray, idly tossing an uneaten apple back and forth between hands.

“Fine, fine. What’s your problem, then?” I took another bite of my peanut-butter sandwich.

“Do you have Mr. Drebber for English?” she asked.

I nearly choked on my food. “Who?” I demanded.

“Drebber, the new English teacher.”

“He’s actually teaching here?” I felt my fingers start to tremble as I set my sandwich down on my lunch tray.

Sadie looked shocked. “You know him?”

“I-I got sent to the principal’s office once, and he was in there having a job interview. He’s such a creeper.” I decided to leave out the bit where he showed up at the Statue-Smasher crime scene a few weeks ago.

“That’s an understatement,” she said. “I’m disgusted by how these girls are fawning over him.”

At that moment, a group passed by our table, squealing about how they were going to his classroom to talk to him. Sadie looked like she might throw up.

“From what I’ve heard,” I said casually, “I’m surprised you aren’t madly in love with him as well. He’s supposedly sort of morbid, which seems to be your type.”

“No. Never. Not in a million years would I ever be attracted to something as repulsive as Mr. Enoch Drebber.” She flicked a potato crisp at me, which I dodged. “Don’t ever say something like that again.”

“I was joking,” I clarified. “Well, mostly.”

She shuddered.

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That night, another person was murdered on Amelia Avenue (clearly, a popular spot with killers). This time, it was a young man named Adrian Sawyer, who had just returned from military service to his long-time girlfriend. Again, they didn’t catch the killer.

Sadie paced wildly around my bedroom, waving her arms around like crazy, ranting to herself.

“It has to be them,” she said, plucking up one of my books at random and flipping through it. “This doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. The murder was carried out in the exact same way as the other, and yet, the police only recovered black hairs from the scene instead of red, like they should have been.” She stacked the book on my desk.

This was how it’d been for the past twenty minutes. Systematically, she’d been removing all of my novels from my shelf, and one by one, taking them across the room to the growing pile on my desk, all while ranting endlessly about Adrian Sawyer, Kate Jones, and the Ginger Society.

I’d more or less tuned out at the five minute mark.

“Sadie,” I interrupted her. “Do you mind putting my books back where they go?”

She added The Mark of Athena to the top of the stack. “No,” she snapped. “I’m alphabetizing them.”

I sighed and shook my head, getting up from where I’d been sitting on my bed and moving to stand in front of her. It was times like these when I wished I wasn’t so short.

“Look,” I began, “I really, really think you should stay out of it this time.” She opened her mouth to cut in, but I stopped her. “No, listen. Last time, it was just some weirdo smashing statues, and you still got hurt. Remember?” I pointed to where a bullet had grazed her ribs. “This case is way too dangerous.”

“You’re not my mother, William,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

“And thank the lord for that…” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Your parents don’t even notice when you wander off to chase a psycho killer. Someone has to look after you.”

“And you think you are the person to ‘look after me’?” She snorted. “Why do you even care?”

“Because we’re friends,” I said simply.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she muttered, turning sharply on her heel and stalking out the door. I let her go.

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A few minutes later, I heard my dad walk up the stairs and pause outside my door. Without knocking, he cracked it open and stuck his head inside.

“Did you two get in a fight?” he asked cautiously.

“No.”

“Liam, she stormed out of the house, and now you’re flopped on your bed with your face in a pillow. It’s not that tough to deduce you two are fighting,” he said.

“We’re not fighting.” My voice came out muffled since I had a mouthful of pillow. “She’s just a selfish, uncaring brat, and I don’t know why I’m friends with her.”

Dad sighed and entered the room, treading slowly over to my bed and sitting down next to my legs. “I had a friend once who was just like that.”

“What?” I said, finally lifting my head to look at him. I turned over and sat up.

He nodded. “Oh, he was absolutely ridiculous. I mean, he was brilliant, but he was such a bastard. He was lazy, cold, and he didn’t give a care in the world about anything except his job. Half the time, I couldn’t fathom why I bothered to stay friends with him.”

“Why did you?” I asked.

He gave me a sad half-smile. “Because we needed each other.”

I let that sink in for a moment. Dad clapped a hand down on my shoulder and stood to leave.

Just as he’d gotten to the door, I said, “What ever happened to him? Your friend?”

Dad heaved a sigh and squeezed his eyes shut. “He died.”

At least he closed the door behind him on his way out.

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Author’s Note: Eeek! I’m so incredibly sorry about the wait! And then I only post a short chapter… I’m awful, I know.

But do you know who isn’t awful? You guys aren’t awful! You’re brilliant, all of you! I can’t believe the response I’ve gotten so far. It’s absolutely incredible and I love you so much.

So, I've also been working on a Lord of the Rings fanfiction where it's the original story but set in modern time. It's an AU road-trip sort of thing. I haven't been getting a lot of response from the website I've been posting it on, so I'm considering posting it here on Wattpad as well. I'm just not sure though. Opinions?

Anyways, thanks for reading! Comment and vote, please!

-Cass