It Started With Thieving | Sherlock Holmes

5 - Tragedies Bring Us Together

A/N - Bring tissues ✌

WARNINGS: Swears, heavily distressing scenes, traumatic incidents, mentions of death, grief...massive apologies but it's all for a reason...

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Birds. Black birds, she thought, maybe crows, maybe ravens. All were a cacophony: crying, crowing, caterwauling. So loud, the small girl thought as she played with one of her thin brown plaits, wrapping strands of hair around her finger as she sat on the wall, observing the flock high up above.

She wondered why she couldn't go home...

"Hey." Said the older boy, poking her purple-trousered leg, "So...what do five year olds do?"

"I'm seven."

"Five - seven - same thing." He waved his hand.

"It's not."

The boy chuckled, staring up at the greying sky.

"How old are you?" The girl asked.

"Sixteen."

"You look older."

"How much older?"

The girl tilted her head as she looked down at the boy, "Maybe thirty?"

"Woah there - that's nearly twice my age."

"It's because of your beard. I thought boys only grow beards when they're old."

The boy stroked the soft baby stubble that had begin to sprout upon his chin. Maybe if he looked older, he could get away with a lot more. He looked at the girl sat up on the wall, and shrugged off her comment. Honestly, he couldn't be arsed to explain puberty to a young girl - she would find out eventually.

"So, your name's Elizabeth?"

"Yes. And only Elizabeth. Not Beth or Ellie or Liz - "

"I quite like *Lizzie*."

"Not *Lizzie*." The girl frowned and then corrected him, "*Elizabeth*."

"Too long and pretentious for a seven year old."

"Maybe I like long." And she would have added pretentious if she knew what it had meant.

"I don't."

Little Elizabeth huffed, "What's your name then?"

"James but I prefer Jim."

"I think James is better."

"Too pretentious for me."

The two stared up at the sky a little longer, their beady pairs of eyes watching the birds gather and separate and twirl and dive. The girl wondered what it would be like to fly; the boy contemplated what the chances were of the Hitchcock movie *Birds* becoming a reality. Young Elizabeth's stomach flipped as she thought about home, about how much trouble her older sister would be in if she disappeared.

"I want to go home - I have to get back."

"No."

"Why no? You don't get it - "

"You're not going back."

"But why? If I don't get back then So - "

Jim had turned to grab her from the wall, setting her down on the pavement harshly. Crouching to be at her height, he leaned in closer to her face.