Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Zyair sits in a taxi with his dad on the way to St Bart's hospital. "Dad?" he asks. "No, you need to finish the book Mycroft gave you first. Next time." Sherlock tells him. "Great." he responds sarcastically as they pull get out the taxi. Sherlock hands the driver the fare for the journey before leading his son inside the hospital.
They walk into morgue where they find Molly Hooper. "Hello Molly." Zyair greets. "Hi Zyair." she smiles at the teen. "How fresh?" Sherlock asks her talking about the body he just revealed from the body bag. "Just in. Sixty-seven, natural causes. He used to work here. I knew him. He was nice." Molly tells him. "Fine. We'll start with the riding crop." Sherlock smiles.
Zyair goes and sits in the corner to read his book at his Father starts hitting the body over and over again. "So, bad day, was it?" Molly asks walking back into the room. "I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me." Sherlock tells her. "Listen, I was wondering: maybe later, when you're finished..." Molly starts before being cut off by Sherlock. "Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing lipstick before." he tells her. "I, er, I refreshed it a bit." Molly smiles. Zyair stands up and walks over to them. "Sorry, you were saying?" Sherlock asks. "I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee." Molly tells him. "Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." Sherlock says before leading his son out the room.
When in the hallway Zyair hands his Father the book. "Too easy I worked out who the killer is already and I'm only a couple chapters in." he tells him. Sherlock smiles "Told him it would be. Never listens though." Sherlock chuckles. "Well he is getting on a bit." Zyair smirks making Sherlock laugh as they walk into the lab.
A little while later someone knocks on door, before Mike Stanford walks in with another man. "Well, bit different from my day." the man says. Zyair looks at him and takes in that he is an army doctor, has a therapist, a psychosomatic limp and just got back from fighting overseas somewhere sunny. "You've no idea!" Mike tells him. "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine or Zyair's." Sherlock asks. "And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asks. "I prefer to text." Sherlock responds. "Sorry. It's in my coat." Mike tells him feeling his pockets.
Zyair smiles to himself knowing that his dad wants to see the man's phone. "Er, here. Use mine." the man says one queue. "Oh. Thank you." Sherlock says taking the phone from him. Zyair scans over it and notices that the phone has been given to him by his alcoholic brother who has recently walked out on his wife. "This is an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike introduces. "Afghanistan or Iraq?" Zyair asks. "Sorry?" John asks. "Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock clarifies. "Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know...?" John vets cut off as Molly walks in with Sherlock's coffee. "Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you. What happened to the lipstick?" Sherlock asks before taking a sip. "It wasn't working for me." Molly tells him. "Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." Sherlock tells her before she walks out the room.
