chapter 4

"L?"

L looked over his shoulder as John stopped behind him. John finished tying his dressing gown as he stared curiously at the child. "What are you doing on the stairs?"

"There was a visitor." L said as he stood up to let John pass.

"Oh? Maybe a client." He mumbled to himself as he continued down, heading for the kitchen. He glanced through the sliding doors into the sitting room as he walked in with L following along. He stopped once he got a look at Sherlock. Clearly, the visitor hadn't been a simple client as the man was scowling in his chair. John sighed at the familiar look.

"So what did Mycroft want?" John asked as he started making coffee.

"To annoy me." Sherlock said with a clipped tone, showing he wasn't going to say anything more about it. John let out another sigh and decided to focus on L instead.

"So L…" L looked away from Sherlock and turned his way. "We don't have much but I'll see if we can get you some breakfast."

John's search for food proved unsuccessful. John knew at this point not to trust most sections of the kitchen with food, as Sherlock didn't really care much where he put his experiments. However, there really wasn't much food at all in the designated safe areas. Thankfully, Mrs. Hudson had already thought of this. She came up with food for them just as John was thinking he was going to have to go out to get some.

L slowly ate the eggs and toast given to him but was rather put off by the woman's staring. She watched him eat with that big smile of hers. He knew she meant nothing by it but he already had the doctor watching his every bite and he at least had a reason. He couldn't bring himself to say anything about it though. He thanked her as she took the tray then turned his attention on John as he started talking.

"We need to get L some clothes, Sherlock." John said, staring at the jumper L was still wearing.

"No need." Sherlock said, standing up. John looked ready to protest but Sherlock quickly continued as he peered out the window.

"No doubt Mycroft has already bought everything he'll need. It should all be delivered right about now." The doorbell rang just as he finished. John knew he should be used to it by now but was still impressed.

Mycroft really had bought everything L needed, even a bed. They decided that John's room was a better place for the bed than Sherlock's. It was a bit cramped but it would work. John put aside the boxes of books that were clearly intended for L's education and instead grabbed one of the boxes of clothes. He carried it to the bathroom and put it down on the tiled floor. Clearly seeing his intent, L followed behind him.

"You'll be fine on your own, right?" John asked, knowing the boy would be but still asking anyway. L nodded so John left him alone to shower and dress. John went and got dressed himself.

It wasn't long before L was done in the bathroom. It was easier to see just how pale he was now that he was clean. John was relieved to see that it was not an unhealthy pale. L's choice of clothing wasn't what John was expecting. Out of all the nice clothes Mycroft got for him, he chose the baggiest ones. The long sleeved shirt hung off him and made his slightly hunched posture all the more obvious. The jeans L chose were a bit more form fitting but John guessed that it wasn't because of preference but because there weren't any other pants in the box that were really baggy enough for his tastes. John was sure that the clothes were more expensive then they looked but when combined with L's still malnourished appearance and unruly hair they made him look like he couldn't afford much of anything. Sherlock showed no surprise regarding L's choice though. John didn't dwell on it; he just guessed that those were more comfortable for L.

John went through some of the boxes and found a chess set. Sherlock scoffed once he saw it. He never did like chess, not because he wasn't good at it. Really the problem, as always, was that he was too good at it. The game was just too boring and predictable to him unless he had someone that could actually be a challenge for him and there was no way he'd play with Mycroft. Even then it didn't really interest him. He much rather use his intellect in solving crimes than in planning strategies, which really was more Mycroft's area. Mycroft knew his feelings on the game and still bought it anyway.

John was able to guess from Sherlock's face that there was a Mycroft related issue with chess so he didn't even ask. However, L was showing some interest. John smiled at that. He pushed the boxes away from the coffee table and started setting up the board. L leaned over to watch, taking careful note of where each type of piece went. John sat down and patted the cushion beside him. L obediently sat, eager to learn about this clearly strategic game. John explained each piece, how they were able to move and the goal of the game. It was clear once they started a match that L was completely taken with the game. He smoothly moved pieces with confidence as he slowly overwhelmed John.

Sherlock tried to keep his scowl but it slowly slipped away as he watched L best John in chess. It seemed that L had a knack for strategy like Mycroft did. He frowned at that. That wouldn't do, he was supposed to be a consulting detective like Sherlock. However, he didn't stop the match, even Sherlock knew it was best that L had some strategic skill. He'd just have to make sure that L liked solving crimes more.

Sherlock's phone went off, announcing that he had a message. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it. When he read it even he had to admit the timing of the message surprised him. He still jumped with glee though as he turned to John and L.

"Murder." He announced happily. "Come on." He grabbed his coat as he ran to the door.

"Sherlock, what about-" John was quickly cut off.

"He's coming with us of course. He has to start solving crimes sometime." He dashed down the stairs, not giving John another chance to protest. John sighed. He rose to follow and waited as L reluctantly put on a pair of sneakers. The reluctance wasn't from having to go with John and Sherlock but rather from having to wear shoes. He was so used to going barefoot that he didn't like how the shoes felt on his feet. L followed John out of the flat and climbed into the cab where Sherlock was impatiently waiting. L stared out the window as he eagerly waited for them to reach their destination.

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The group of police cars and forensic agents let L know they were there before the cab stopped. He climbed from the cab and quickly followed behind Sherlock's quick strides. Lestrade was waiting for them. His greeting wasn't very warm when he caught sight of L.

"You can't be serious." He sighed. "Sherlock, what is he doing here? You can't bring a child to a crime scene."

"He is not just some child. He is here to learn and gain experience." Sherlock said, passing the man without slowing. "He's seen murder before, remember that." L stopped when he reached the man.

"I'll be fine, Inspector." He said. Lestrade stared down at him and blinked a few times, showing his surprise at being addressed by him; he had only seen L when he was quiet and rarely spoke. He'll admit that this was a nice improvement. He gave the boy a small smile, worry forgotten for the moment. L hurried past him then to catch up with Sherlock who was already leaning over the corpse hidden behind some trash bins. Lestrade sighed but yielded. He walked behind L and ultimately passed him with his longer strides.

"We've already identified him. Harold Carson, soldier honorably discharged about a month ago due to severe shoulder injury. Daughter claims he was on his way to meet her fiancé at the pub nearby but never made it. Poor bloke. Makes the fiancé mighty suspicious." Lestrade told Sherlock as he stopped just out of the man's area of investigation.

L felt his eagerness slip away and his steps slow as he approached the body. As Sherlock mentioned, this wasn't his first time seeing a dead body but there was a certain sadness to the sight this time. The Inspector's words painted the victim as a good, honest man. The knowledge that another good man had passed not long after the other he had witnessed was rather depressing; up till this point, L was allowed some ignorance regarding just how frequently good people were killed. Now he knew better.

Sherlock seemed to ignore Lestrade as he impatiently waved L over. L hesitated but soon joined the man, carefully stepping over anything of potential importance. He was now able to stare into the face of the deceased man. The expression now permanently ingrained into the aged features was a forlorn one. It made L's regret all the stronger.

"No reason to feel sad." Sherlock said suddenly. L looked up and found the man's sharp eyes boring into him. "Good people die everyday. It's something you'll just have to accept." Sherlock continued.

L didn't know the man well enough to tell whether he really was as indifferent towards the whole thing as he was sounding. He knew the man was right but, at the same time, it didn't feel right to simply not care. His protest came out before he could stop it.

"But can't regret be an incentive to catch the killer and prevent more victims?" He immediately regretted asking; he feared he had overstepped a line. However, Sherlock's face showed no anger at his words. In fact, it didn't change at all beyond a slight shift that L couldn't decipher.

"Perhaps it can for some." Sherlock finally said. "However, remember caring can be a weakness." There wasn't as much certainty to those words as Sherlock probably intended, which made L wonder where Sherlock got them from; he didn't seem to believe in it wholeheartedly enough to be the source but was attempting to, which meant they were from someone he respected at least. L wondered what John would have said in response; the man seemed to be Sherlock's friend and yet Sherlock said caring was a weakness. L glanced over at the doctor but found he was busy conversing with the Inspector. L suspected that the man would not have been happy had he heard. L didn't quite agree with Sherlock but couldn't bring himself to say as much.

"Well?" Sherlock asked, yanking L from his thoughts. He looked back at the man. Sherlock gestured to the body, clearing waiting for L to make his own deductions. L turned his attention on the body and hesitated as nerves got the best of him. This was his first time investigating. He had no real experience and yet…

"Don't falter." L jumped at the sharp words that once again snapped him from his thoughts. Sherlock's voice softened slightly once he had L's attention again. "This is just to gain experience. We'll work on your deductions with time. For now…your instincts will suffice."

The words did manage to reassure him. L took a deep breath and looked back at the body. What immediately caught his attention was the stab wound in the right shoulder. It was clearly the cause of the blood loss that sealed the man's end. Looking over the rest of the body, revealed other smaller wounds no doubt received during a struggle. However, there were not many, which showed he managed to overpower his attacker enough to defend himself from other serious injuries. So the first stab was a surprise attack. That was rather revealing. Sherlock grinned as he realized where L's thoughts were going. He gave the boy a nod of encouragement as he looked for permission.

"Signs of a struggle…" L started slowly, still a bit anxious. He kept his eyes only on Sherlock though and not on any of the others listening. "…as expected from a trained soldier. However, the first attack was unexpected so he was unable to defend himself from it. The killer had the perfect opportunity to hit something vital and yet they went for the shoulder. Why not hit somewhere more serious than the shoulder with the first strike?" Sherlock hummed approvingly and took over from there, knowing that L had pieced most if not everything together.

"The shoulder was the killer's aim. He must have known about the previous injury to it and aimed for it with the intention of weakening the victim. He then fought with the victim till blood loss took its toll." He turned to Lestrade to give his deduction on the killer's identity.

"The fact the killer knew about the previous injury to the shoulder means it couldn't have been the fiancé. He hadn't met the victim yet so there was no chance for the victim to share this information with him. The fact that the victim was injured was probably well known by friends and acquaintances but only the family would have known the exact location. I doubt the daughter would have told the fiancé either but it is a possibility. This was most likely an attempt at framing the fiancé."

"What? Really?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock ignored him.

"Does the daughter have any siblings?" Sherlock asked.

"Uh. Yeah. A younger brother." Lestrade was looking rather lost now, much like John.

"No others?"

"No, mother passed during birth."

"How young is the brother?" Sherlock asked.

"About nine years younger than the daughter."

"Any close relatives?" Lestrade shook his head.

"Perfect!" Sherlock exclaimed. "There's your killer."

"Wait. What?" Lestrade and John were completely lost now. Sherlock sighed heavily but went on to explain.

"Mother dies giving birth to the brother. No close relatives to help raise him. However, he does have an older sister at a mature enough age to act as a mother towards him. He would see her as such." Sherlock spoke quickly with no real pause.

"Oh, he knows that she is actually his sister but at the same time he holds an attachment for her much like a son would have towards his mother. Now the sister is planning to marry someone and leave him for someone he probably doesn't approve of. My guess is that the father did approve. He would have felt angry towards the father but that wasn't the reason for the murder. No, he wanted to frame the fiancé so the sister wouldn't marry him and would ultimately stay with him."

"You got all that just from the fact that the stab wound was in the shoulder?" Lestrade asked. L understood his disbelief but Sherlock's deductions made sense to him so he didn't have the same problem. He looked up at the man with awe, causing the man to smirk slightly.

"It's not hard. You just need to think." Sherlock said, smugly. "If you need proof. Bring in the brother. Talk to the sister first and get her to ask the brother. He won't lie to her."

Sherlock started towards the road, prompting L to jump up to follow. Sherlock paused to let the boy catch up. L nearly stopped at the quick brush of a hand on his shoulders that felt almost affectionate. He refrained from looking up at the man, thinking it was probably just an accident.

L followed Sherlock to many others cases and did just as he did with the first one. He found with each one he spotted something new and was able to deduce more from it. He was clearly learning from Sherlock and was proud of that. Normally, Sherlock would have been jumping off the walls whenever they weren't on a case but not as often now that L was with them. Now whenever they weren't on a case, Sherlock would test L by telling him about old cases to see how much he could deduce with the information given to him. L was still saddened by the deaths of the victims but found the investigation work rather enjoyable. Sherlock had even started to play chess with him, using it to further test and train him.

"With the right opponent, chess can be a effective way to test yourself. However, remember, life isn't a chess game. Not everyone will play by the rules and sometimes you might need to cheat yourself. It's up to you to make sure you don't go too far." Sherlock advised him once while cementing his victory with checkmate. L was too focused on his words to care about the loss. He didn't know it yet but those words would be at the center of a monumental case of his own much later in his life.

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John quietly followed Sherlock and L up the steps to the flat as they spoke of an old case even though they had just solved a case. John will admit he was proud of how L had changed from his first day with them. He was no longer shy and timid though he was still very careful when speaking with others and was still overall quiet. L had gained some weight and was no longer as pale as he once was, though his skin was still much lighter than most. There were slight bags forming under his eyes that John was working on but L was a lot like Sherlock in that he much preferred to stay awake.

They all froze once they saw the woman sitting on the couch in the front room. The woman of noticeably Asian descent, reminding John of Soo Lin Yao, stood up.

"Sorry I let myself in…but I can't really afford to come back later. I need your help finding someone."

John barely heard her words; he was too focused on the woman's eyes. One was very dark while the other was red, an almost glowing red. John couldn't explain it but something about her besides that eye felt…strange.