A Living Mystery

The Laboratory Children

A/N I just got into the Sherlock fandom and...

I couldn't resist! Enjoy this book I made out of literally nowhere.

3rd Person POV

The case was unlike any other Sherlock had faced before. It involved the disappearance of exactly ten orphan children, all biological siblings. The mothers had all been murdered by suffocation and the only witness was an adoptive father who just happened to survive an attack. But Sherlock needed more clues than that, even if he already had four ideas of what might have happened.

"I hate to interrupt your tearful story," Sherlock said flatly to the witness before him "But do you have any idea were your wife kept her records?"

They stood at the tenth crime scene, the victim's husband sat at the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a shock blanket. He looked up, startled at the detective's cold demeanor "I-I suppose she kept them in her office. No one ever went in there." He stuttered.

Sherlock nodded "Thank you, Mr. Berry, I am so sorry for your loss." he muttered, already walking away.

Inside the large brick house Sherlock found a small office with a desk, art supplies, bookshelves, and file cabinets. Lestrade followed behind "So, what do you think?"

"I think this woman was a cartoonist judging by the type of art supplies she has. Wait, no," Sherlock paused "Aspiring cartoonist, There's not enough artwork on her desk to suggest she did it full time. Probably stuck in a boring job she hates concidering the looseness of the doorknob which is probably from someone whipping it open quickly. So she was eager to get here every day-"

Lestrade rolled his eyes and cut him off "No, I mean the case. Who is the bloody murderer and where are the kids?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes "I have an idea, but I need to look in those filing cabinets."

He strode forward and began digging through the cabinets, throwing files and papers all over the place. Finally he found exactly what he needed "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Lestrade questioned walking over to look at the file Sherlock held in his hand.

"The kids are all siblings but they were separated. The mothers just wanted kids of their own." Sherlock mumbled, a grin growing on his face. "A laboratory. These kids are laboratory children."

The detective inspector shot him a strange look "They're what?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and handed the file to Lestrade, walking out the door with the policeman behind him. "Some people don't want significant others to have children so instead they go to special laboratories where people donate to fertilize an egg. If all these kids were related but never knew each other it is most likely their mothers got the same donor, who would be," Sherlock pointed at a sentance on the file "Number 24601, from Birth Laboratories."

Lestrade observed the file, turning the pages hastily as Sherlock hailed a cab "But why does he have the kids?"

The consulting detective turned to the inspector, his eyebrows raised and his lips pulled into a tight smile "That's what I'm going to find out."

~~~~~~~~

The laboratory was closing when Sherlock arrived with the file in hand, determined to find out what had happened. An old man in his sixties sat at the desk, packing up for the night.

"I'm sorry mate, we're closed for the night." He said when he saw Sherlock approaching.

"Yes, whatever. I'm here for the identity of number 24601 from seven years ago." The detective said, brushing aside the old man's comment.

The man set down the rag he was holding "Tha's confidential. Couldn't tell ya if I wanted too."

"This is regarding a serial killer, I need to know." Sherlock protested, leaning forward over the desk.

The man watched him for a second then sighed. "Fine," he gave in, walking out from behind the desk "I'll give you the answers, after you make a donation. Tha's the price."

Sherlock froze, looking at his options. Either he went through a painful procedure to require information or he lived his whole life not knowing. Well, the decision wasn't that difficult.

"Alright. I'll play your game."

The old man smirked and gestured for Sherlock to enter the surgery room, pulling on latex gloves. "After you, mate."

The detective took a deep breath and walked into the room. The door sliding shut behind him.

~~~~~~

"What happened to you?" Lestrade asked, his eyebrow raised at Sherlock's tired expression.

"Nothing of importance. Anyway, I figured out who the father is," he placed another file on the policeman's desk, making him lean forward to look at it "His name is Sebastian Silvers and he lives a block away. I'll go in and question him, you be outside with your team in case I find something."

Lestrade nodded, getting up and stretching. He grabbed his gun and placed it in his coat pocket, turning to look at Sherlock "Lets go catch this ****hole."

~~~~~~

Sherlock knocked at the flat door, his face flat and unreadable. The man who answered was short and round, his eyes watery and distant. "Who the hell are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective." He pushed past the man into the small flat "And you are Sbastian Silvers, am I correct?"

"Yes, you are. What brings a detective to my home?" The man growled inching towards a closet door nervously.

Sherlock eyed him out the corner of his eye, flattening his mouth into a line. The flat was covered in strange decorations all with the same crown and cleaver symbol.

"Kidnapping children is a dirty habit," Sherlock stated, looking Sebastian right in the eye "I assume you've gone looking for your own children for some cult of sorts, a sacrifice or ceremony that requires your own blood."

The man flinched backing away "You're spouting nonsense! I would never kidnap anyone!"

"And yet," Sherlock grinned "You've led me right to them. Lestrade, you can come in now!"

The policemen entered and surrounded the flat, one capturing Sebastian. They slapped handcuffs on him and pushed the man out of the room "But I'm innocent!"

Sherlock shook is head and motioned for Lestrade. "Then how do you explain this?" He opened the door Sebastian had been standing in front of to reveal the ten kids standing gagged and unconscious in the small closet.

"Bloody hell." The detective Inspector mumbled then called out "Someone call the ambulance!"

He turned back to Sherlock and shook his hand "I've got to get going, I'll need to fill a report about this. Thanks for your help." With that he left the room, saying something into his walkie-talkie.

Sherlock sighed and left as well hailing a cab to take him home.

Little did he know, two years later he would meet John Watson.

And a few years after, the result of a case long forgotten.

A/N I wrote this all in one morning and I'm bloody tired. More chapters coming soon!

DON'T DIE!

~Prongs❤