Lives Lived and Lives Lost

Life #21: Holmes and Watson

Life # 21: That time Harry and Tom were Holmes and Watson

Tom got his memories back the usual way. He met Harry while his friend Mike introduced them at St Bart's.

Of course, what was different this time around was that Harry introduced himself as Sherlock Holmes with a tiny yet insufferable smile. And then he promptly showed off by metaphorically undressing Tom where he stood as he summed up detail after detail about Tom's life that he couldn't possibly know.

Tom slowly closed his eyes. Harry was Sherlock Holmes and Tom was John Watson. Or some modern version of them, at any rate.

How did these lives even get chosen? Who decided what sort of people they were going to be life after life? The previous life they'd been a couple of dog groomers, for fuck's sake, living a peaceful life in Austria until they died of natural causes while they were well into their eighties.

And now they apparently were the world's most famous detective along with his faithful sidekick.

Before he could stop it, a sharp pang of envy coursed through Tom's body, leaving a sour trail in its wake.

Tom should have been Sherlock Holmes. Not Harry the bumbling Gryffindor. Tom was the consummate Slytherin. Tom was always the clever one, no matter what sort of life they led. That's not to say that Tom as John Watson was stupid. Not at all. Tom in is current itineration was plenty smart. He was a medical doctor, after all. But he wasn't Sherlock Holmes levels of smart and that stung, no matter that Tom didn't want to ever feel envious of his soulmate.

Harry announced that Tom could be his roommate and told him to come to 221b Baker Street before giving him a cheeky wink. And then he was gone and Tom was left staring into space in complete shock.

"Yeah," Mike said with a knowing smile. "He's always like that."

Something told Tom he'd be spending most of his time this life trying to save Harry from himself. No matter what kind of life Harry led, he was always the impulsive one. Combine that with a newly acquired genius level intellect and an unstoppable need to solve every interesting crime that came his way and it didn't take the world's most famous detective to deduct that Harry was going to get himself killed sooner rather than later.

Oh fuck. If there existed a Sherlock Holmes and a John Watson in this world, there also had to be a James Moriarty. Sherlock Holmes' arch-nemesis and reportedly at least equally as intelligent. And in every single fictional story starring Sherlock Holmes that Tom had ever read, Moriarty always, always wanted to destroy Sherlock Holmes.

Yeah, this version of Moriarty was going to be in for a bit of a surprise, because this Sherlock Holmes had a former Dark Lord on his side, determined to keep him safe. Tom squared his shoulders and said a quick goodbye to Mike. There was no time to waste. Harry could be landing himself in a world of trouble right at that moment without Tom to keep him safe.

Tom had been a genius once upon a life. Granted, he'd used that genius intellect to turn himself into a magical mass-murderer while valiantly trying to rule the entire world, consequences be damned. But that experience might serve him well enough to predict what a criminal mastermind like Moriarty might plan to see Harry end up in an early grave.

Mrs Hudson turned out to be their landlady, not their housekeeper, as she pointed out numerous times. The flat was spacious enough, especially for London standards, but it was completely covered by Harry's clutter.

Tom released a quiet sigh. Harry was never the most organized person in the world, but he was usually very clean. Being forced to do household chores from an early age on by those ridiculous muggle relatives in their first life had instilled a sense of cleanliness in Harry that usually carried over into every new life. Though apparently not this time.