Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

holland & holmes pt.2

warnings: death, mentions of blood (and murder)

I can feel the glares of the constables following me as I enter the blocked off alleyway. My boots click against the cobblestones, creating a sense of rhythm to the chaos around me. "Holmes, it's a pleasure to see you again. Although, I do wish it was under better circumstances."

A soft smile creeps across my face at the sight and kindness of my old friend. "Careful, Osterfield, if you look too happy to see me, you may lose the support of your constables. As for the circumstances, I'm fairly certain my presence means they'll rarely be good." Harrison chuckles and shakes his head at me. "Now, where's the body?"

The light and humor quickly drains from Inspector Osterfield's blue eyes, and they quickly flicker behind me as he lets out a deep sigh. "I ought to warn you, this is one of the worst we've seen."

Thomas and Harrison both watch me intently as I keep my features stoic and nod. Papa always taught me how to keep myself objective and detached. "You and I feel too deeply, Y/N," he would say. "That means, sometimes, we have to put them away to do what needs to be done until we have the time to sort them out."

It was a difficult but necessary lesson. Everyone already harbors so much doubt and resentment towards my father and I. Although, he lacks the additional obstacles I face by merely being a woman. So I tread carefully around the constabulary and keep a stiff upper lip as we approach the body.

"Has anyone moved or touched the body?" Thomas asks as he unknowingly steals the words from my lips and opens his forensics bag.

"No, I know how fussy the pair of you get when that happens." Harrison jokes, oblivious to the sudden awkward tension that rises at Thomas and I being referred to as a pair.

I brush it off and analyze the scene. My eyes trail over the worn, dry cobblestone and take note of the outstretched limbs of the poor girl. There are a few obvious details that pique my interest. From her outstretched arms, to the stitches that tie her lips together, all the way to the distinct lack of blood at the scene.

Harrison drones on in the background, but I only vaguely listen until he says, "We don't have any identification on who she is yet, but—"

"Rosamond Carter." I tell him as I round the body and grab a few things from Thomas's bag. Both him and Harrison give me an odd look at the sudden statement, which makes me sigh and refrain from rolling my eyes. "Her father's in parliament. She frequents many of the same events we do and is well known for her flamboyance. I never personally met her, but I'm almost certain its her."

"How so?" Harrison asks as he watches me with that glimmer of curiosity in his blue eyes.

"Her necklace." I tell him and nod to the pendant around her neck. "It's engraved with her initials hidden in the rose petals. I'm acquainted with the jeweler she got it from; he only does work like that for the upper class and at a very high cost. Only someone with a lot of money could afford something as intricate as that, combined with the initials, the only logical option left was Rosamund."

"Any idea why she would be killed or dumped here?" Thomas questions, and I barely manage to meet his eyes as he speaks to me. "Or why would they have changed her clothing? I'm sure a woman of Rosamund's status wouldn't willingly wear pauper's clothing."

"You're right, she wouldn't. I think it speaks more of her killer than her." I say and crouch down by her head. My hands are already shaking a bit as I grasp the scissors to cut away the stitches. Although, I make the mistake of meeting her empty gaze.

Her hazel eyes feel like they're accusing me, blaming me for using her death as a means of showing off and finding a way to benefit myself. It makes me screw my own shut and forcefully push the thought aside as I place those emotions in a box to deal with later. Instead, I focus on the task at hand.