Consulting Detective and the Genius Orphan?

Chapter 1: Intro

Mike, the playground bully, towered above the school freak, Sherlock.

"Gosh Freak. You're just so weird. No one.." Mike shouted before Sherlock interrupted.

"How's your mom Mike? She's ill right? Incredibly ill I would say." the small curly haired boy said.

"H...How did you kna..kno..know about my mum?" Mike stammered. "Nobody knows about my mum."

"It's your lunch Mike, just two weeks ago it changed from a neat ham sandwich to a peanut butter sandwich. Your mom made your lunch perfect everyday. She knows you don't like peanut butter, I know because of the way you eat it. But your dad doesn't. This all implies..." Sherlock explained will the sound of pride in his voice before he was interrupted with a punch in the gut.

"You will always be a freak. Everybody thinks so. Everybody!" Mike screamed as he kicked Sherlock numerous times.

Sherlock felt only pain and kids all around the playground only stared. No one bothered to help. They all just stared. Tears flowed out of Sherlocks eyes. Sherlock's vision got blurry and he couldn't think strait. The only thing in his brilliant mind was Mikes terrible words.

Freak

Freak

Freak

"Stop! Just STOP!" Sherlock heard someone say.

He knew it wasn't it Mike. It was a girl. But Sherlock only had time to look up at her face before he blacked out and was carried away from the scene.

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Eleanor did not know much about Sherlock. But she always liked how he knew so many things by just a look. The kids at school were always so mean to the poor boy. And for what? Because he was smarter than everyone else? Because they have teased him for so long and he's turned into a machine?

"Horrible things they say to you," she said the lifeless body sitting in the chair next to her "they have no right to be so mean."

Eleanor's father owned the cafe they were sitting at. She was a nice little girl but she had no friends. Shy was the excuse she used but the real reason was because of her parents. They were very strict. In fact so strict Eleanor was scared of them, very scared. Bruises traced up and down her legs from the last time she broke the rules.

"It's for the best, really Eleanor," they would say "you will thank us later."

Maybe that's why Eleanor felt pity for Sherlock. Because she new how he felt. But Eleanor didn't take long to think about the subject because her friend was waking up. Slowly he opened up his tear-filled eyes. He looked at Eleanor, then at his surroundings, then at Eleanor again.

"Eleanor Rigby," he murmured.

She nodded. Suddenly, out of the blue as Sherlock's older brother would put it, Sherlock jumped up and simply left. Eleanor was surprised.

"What a strange boy" She thought. But even with such a peculiar exit Eleanor knew that that was not the end of her and Sherlock.

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She was right. Sherlock and Eleanor slowly became the best of friends. When little mysteries popped up over town, like when Mae's dog went missing, the two had fun solving them. They were inseparable. This was why Sherlock was so upset when Eleanor left him.

Or left her parents really.

Sherlock knew about how they would hit her. He never brought it up though. One day she ran away from him. The day she turned eighteen she picked up and left the town without telling anyone. Anyone except Sherlock that is. But she only left a simple note, telling him a simple goodbye. The whole ordeal left Sherlock just how it was before he met Eleanor, a machine.

--------------6 years later---------------

Eleanor sat at the edge of the curb holding her new born baby. Tears ran down Eleanor's cheeks. She had just got off the phone with her parents. They had just found out that they were grandparents and the first thing they asked was if the child was Sherlocks.

Eleanor laughed at that thought. Sherlock a father? Eleanor knew he "played a different game." The child did not have a dad. Yes she had a father but he was long gone. He was not a dad.

The childs name was Amy.

Amy

Amy

Amy

Eleanor liked to say the name over and over in her head. But poor little Amy was about to become an orphan. With Eleanor's heath decreasing at a fast rate it seemed as if there was no choice.

"Little Amy Rigby, Eleanor cooed, "Mummy loves you very much. So very much. But mummy is sick. So mummy has to go."

------------11 years later----------

Amy stopped and tried to catch her breath. She had just escaped the orphanage and was currently trying not to be caught. It was a cold day in London and her thin sweater was doing nothing to stop the wind from making her shiver. But Amy couldn't go back to the orphanage though, that wasn't an option.

Across the street Amy saw two men leave their flat.

"Sherlock, are we seriously going to pick up everything and leave just for this case?" The shorter one shouted.

"Obviously." The other one replied.

Amy couldn't help but notice that they left their door open slightly. The flat looked nice and warm, the very opposite of the streets Amy was planning to sleep on. The owners of the flat jobs obviously involved crime solving, but they weren't a part of the police. This meant that they were going to be gone for a while. Just long enough for Amy to take advantage of their unlocked flat.

Amy slowly walked into the flat. She found her self questioning every step. If she was caught then she would be sent back to the orphanage, but if she stayed on the streets then she risked being found. After walking up a set of stairs and through a living room, Amy found herself in a very inviting bedroom.

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John trailed into the flat and immediately started making a cup of tea. They had been out for about five hours and his energy had clearly been drained. The dirt and grime of London stuck to John's clothes and skin, but the flat was too dark for any of it to be visible.

"Do you want any tea?" John asked Sherlock, who was mumbling to himself.

John looked up to see Sherlock walk straight to his bedroom, ignoring the offer. John sighed, knowing that he probably wasn't going to hear Sherlock much until he decided to play violen at his usual three in the morning.

But John was wrong.

From inside his room Sherlock calmly said, "John, we have an...intruder."