Minerva picked up the last cardboard box and placed it in the trunk of her car. She was finally free. All the bad childhood memories, all the pain, all the years of being neglected would be out of sight in a few minutes. Altough she had attended her mothers funeral a day ago she didn't feel the silghtest bit of grief.
Minerva was about to close the trunk, when something caught her attention. A picture was lying on one of the boxes. She picked it up and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, no. It was a sad one. The photo showed her and her former colleague Greg Lestrade at the day of her promotion. The woman put the photo away and finally closed the trunk.
Sometimes Minerva wondered if her life was full of lies.
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Sherlock was lying on the sofa once again. Sunken in his mind palace, his thoughts racing around. He didn't notice when John and Rosie came home from the playground, until the Detective felt a heavy weight on his chest. Sherlock opened his eyes, facing probably the cutest face on earth, next to Johns of course. Two brown eyes looked back in his own, at first with confusion but then lit up with joy and the baby on top of him began to giggle.
John watched them with amusement. Both looked totally adorable. Sometimes he wished they were a real family. But then he always pushed these thoughts away. He didn't want Sherlock to find out, because he was scared. Scared to be rejected.
Sometimes John wished his life could be just full of love.
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Greg walked towards the exit of the Scotland Yard building. His day had been hard. Dealing with Anderson wasn't always easy. He was sometimes really incompetent and insuffreable. Greg had reached the exit and was about to leave, when he saw a familiar face outside the door. But just in the blink of an eye the face was gone. Again a hallucination. He really needed sleep.
Driving home, he couldn't think of anything but the face he'd seeen. It had been seven years since he saw her the last time. And he didn't even know, if she was still alive.
Had it all been a lie?
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In a dark room in a dark house a man smiled to himself. He had planned something evil. Something no one would expect him to do. Right now, he was writing a poem, wich played a small part in his plan. Through a camera he watched a blond haired woman help little children crafting something out of paper.
His smile grew to a grin.
This plan was perfect.
His life was full of death.
YOU ARE READING
Love, Lies & Death ( A Sherlock Fanfiction)
Fanfiction"How are you dealing with your Philophobia?" Sherlock asked, completely ignoring John, who looked more confused as ever. "You haven't forgotten about that, have you?" Minerva smiled at him. Nine years ago she had met him and already knew something...
