Wayne started to ascend to stairs, feeling the sweat on the back of his neck. He never liked the upper floor much.
He turned round the corner and walked down the hall. He got inside the room furthest down.
Upon entering, Wayne didn't turn on the lights amd simply sat on his bed. Sherlock took in the messy room. Just like the cupboard downstairs, the room's overflowing with paper, alongside with dozens of books scattering everywhere. Some of them were open. Sherlock took a quick glance at them. Astronomy, philosophy, art, science, chemistry...
"Why would you read astronomy and philosophy? What are you, an Athenian?"
"You made a blog dedicated for defining the differences between two hundred kinds of tobacco ash," Wayne said as he cocked his head.
"It has a purpose. It's important to me, and to my work," Sherlock frowned.
"Likewise, friend," Wayne said. Sherlock stared for a moment, then started roaming his eyes over everywhere in the room again. Wayne watched with a bored expression.
Rosie had quietly entered the room. Wayne, with nothing to do, obviously noticed her. Sherlock, though busying himself with observing Wayne's table lamp, but still with his sharp senses, also noticed. However, he did not turn around to greet the toddler.
"What's the use of a window if you never let sunshine inside," Sherlock muttered, though mostly to himself, as he examined a telescope next to Wayne's desk.
"I don't know, jump out of it, that's what I do," Wayne shrugged. Sherlock's eyes darted from the telescope to the teen.
"Don't look as if you've never done that before," Wayne frowned. Then he picked up Rosie, who stood at the doorway, looking puzzled because of the ignorance of her existence.
"Hi, Rosie," Wayne said quietly, smiling. The toddler stared for a moment, then flashed a big grin.
Sherlock proceeded to the window. Like he'd said, it seemed Wayne never opened the curtains, which were covered by dust at least an inch thick. Sherlock raised his hand to yank open the curtains.
"I suggest you not to," Wayne muttered, rather softly, "No one wants dust to flow around in this small and messy room." Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
"Well, I guess you can softly lift them. Wash your gloves afterwards." he added.
Sherlocm sighed amd just peeked over the edge of the curtain, where he could glimpse the quiet street. Outside was a branch of the banyan tree. Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock saw something green.
He slowly pushed the curtain aside, letting sunshine through. The first thing he heard was Wayne yelping in the background and muttering about how the sun always stung his eyes and made his skin raw and red.
"Cactus? Why would you keep that?" Sherlock asked as he pulled his magnifying glass out of his pocket.
"Because, well, I've no idea. I just wanted to keep it," Wayne shrugged.
"What about that cage under your bed?" Sherlock asked.
"Sherlock being Sherlock... That's my snake, Croissant," Wayne sighed and placed Rosie on his bed, then squatted to lift his bedsheets.
"Naming a snake after bread, wonderful idea," Sherlock smirked.
"I always misread the name," Wayne rolled his eyes. "French. French. Pfft."
"And what about the chameleon?" Sherlock raised his brows.
"You noticed that... Well, she's Penguin." Wayne shrugged as he lifted Croissant, which wrapped itself around his right arm. Eyes on Croissant, he used his other arm to lift the bedsheets again and pulled another cage out with his toes.
Penguin crawled around in her cage, having a nerve breakdown, since it was a long time before she last saw sunlight.
"Why name a chameleon Penguin? Insulting," Sherlock said.
"That's the point," Wayne said. He didn't elaborate.
Wayne looked at Rosie. She definitely was scared of reptiles, but she sat bravely still. "Like father, like daughter," he muttered.
"Where's John?" At the mentioning of 'father', the existence of John seemed to have occured suddenly, as if he hadn't existed before.
"Probably with Lenon," Wayne said as he watched Croissant climb between his arms.
Sherlock raised hus brows. After a second, he said with realisation, "Ah, Graham."
Rosie now sat on the edge of the bed and swung her short legs in boredom. "Greg?" she said, apparently doubting Sherlock's naming for the detective inspector. "Isn't it George?" Wayne asked, looking from Rosie to Sherlock.
A soft knock on the door.
"Guys, even my daughter has a better memory. He's Greg," John said, entering the room. Wayne raised his brows. "Lestrange? Or is it Lenon?" he asked.
"It's Lestrade," John sighed.
"Is it my name again? Greg Lestrade, is it so hard to remember?" Lestrade asked, striding in.
"So are we investigating or what? We seem to have forgotten someone, a couple, in fact, were murdered downstairs," Wayne asked, arching his brow.
"Oh right, we've come to question you, snowman," Donovan said as she walked in with a clipboard. Croissant hissed.
"Wonderful, I'm in a zoo," Donovan frowned as she recoiled from the snake. Rosie furrowed her brows and looked away from the sergeant, finding interest in the chameleon on the floor. She crawled forward on the bed towards it.
"What are you asking?" Wayne said, wearily and warily.
"Where were you when your parents were murdered and what were you doing? We have the full right to accuse you of murdering your parents."
Words: 896
A/N: i know i haven't updated in a long time, and this is a, rather, short chapter. but my finals are coming and i'll just... try my veryd best. thanks and, well, sorry!
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Adopted to be a Holmes
Fiksi Penggemar"A couple have been murdered. now, i need you two to come and investigate." Sherlock and John arrived at the crime scene, and on the swing in the garden, sat a boy wrapped in a shock blanket. He, Wayne Ballard, is the son of the murdered couple. "So...
