Comments | winchester_lost: London. Midnight. On the Hunt.

winchester_lost

London. Midnight. On the Hunt.

Jun 13, 2011 02:01

Dean shut and locked the doors to his Impala, and then was following after Sherlock without a word. It was an easy rhythm they were starting to fall into, strangely comfortable, despite the friction, hints of challenge. Normal people usually had to be taken by the hand, but Sherlock almost seemed to know the steps as if he lived them as well. It ( Read more... )

Comments 56

sherlock_please June 13 2011, 06:16:39 UTC

Inside the morgue, Sherlock lead the way in silence until they were just outside the door of the morgue office and gallery, the actual grisly business taking place down below. Sherlock held up a hand and murmured, "Wait here ( ... )

winchester_lost June 13 2011, 06:42:24 UTC

Dean waited, as he'd been told to, though he looked a bit put off by it, he did understand. It was harder to charm a girl when you had another guy hanging around at your elbow. It just never worked as well. He couldn't help the faint snicker at the change in Sherlock's voice and demeanor, however, the bright, cheery tone, so clearly faked. Dean waited out in the hall, a tilt of his head as he listened idly to the strangely animated conversation, idly scuffing the toes of one of his shoes against the floor out of boredom as he waited ( ... )

sherlock_please June 13 2011, 06:48:52 UTC

Dean was remarkably well behaved. John never was, but that was part of his charm, the incessant questions and the slight unease at falling into step behind him. John was a somewhat unwilling companion, or rather, he was quite willing but he hadn't been aware that he was so until it began to happen regularly. Dean, on the other hand, seemed simply to fall into step.

However, Sherlock didn't know that the cookie was stifling snide commentary. That would change his idea of this, surely.

"We can go have a look at it and pull the file," he said. "She's still got it with the current files, so it'll be easy to find..." he glanced back at Dean as he pushed into the morgue and headed off to the far left, to a wall of cool, stainless steel doors, four high and six across.

winchester_lost June 13 2011, 09:12:35 UTC

Dean was, in a sense, well-behaved. He fell into step behind Sherlock because it was natural, a rhythm he was used to, always at someone's side. However, being entirely willing didn't do anything to circumvent the fact that Dean was a snarky brat. He was a bit more teasing than John's seeming displeasure, any sort of unwillingness an easy shared lie. He needed this. He just needed not to lose people. He needed Sam back, he needed Sam safe, and perversely, the best way to cope was drowning himself in a job, and refusing to lose the man he was currently trailing after.

“Good. She have the files on the other ones? We should check the autopsy photos so we have a timeline for when this thing attacks.”

Dean dusted his hands on his denims, following Sherlock over to the left, that familiar shiny wall with square doors and bodies behind them. Moment of truth, to abuse a cliché turn of phrase. It was always a little bit exhilarating; getting to find out if they were right or not.

sherlock_please June 13 2011, 17:49:30 UTC

"She does indeed," Sherlock replied, glancing at the small labels and pulling the larger drawer out labeled with the date of death they were looking for, and marked 'Doe, John.' The drawer slid open in a long, smooth motion, slowing as it neared the end of its tracks, and the body inside pale and bare ( ... )

winchester_lost June 14 2011, 01:04:26 UTC

Dean saw the gesture and stopped looking over the corpse, picking up the file with a shrug of his shoulders. He gave it a cursory glance over, not having any particular faith in coroners, before making a dismissive noise and tossing it back down on the slab with a shake of his head. The problem was that coroner reports tended to rationalize things: nice, clean explanations. It was much easier to classify it as an accidental drowning, than actually document what the evidence seemed to indicate: some creature with almost shark-like teeth and a maw slightly larger than a human's eating out the poor man's liver ( ... )

sherlock_please June 16 2011, 08:28:40 UTC

"The other deaths are all five weeks apart, give or take a day... I imagine the exposure to the water threw off the time of death, if you're imagining that the attacks were spot on five weeks," he emphasized 'attacks' in such a way that said that while the evidence lead to what he'd read in Dean's father's journal, he wasn't entirely on board just yet. The evidence wasn't conclusive, but there were obvious links, the livers were a clear tie to otherwise unrelated deaths. And all the same location on the Thames. And at such regular intervals ( ... )

winchester_lost June 16 2011, 08:29:24 UTC

Dean had been perfectly content with the validity of their plan. As far as he could tell, based on the coroner's reports, the day was either tomorrow or the day after. He'd been amusing himself vaguely annoying the other man, just enough to not enough to warrant having the man bring up the issue, which suited Dean just fine. He could see the tension, the way Sherlock leaned against the car door, the line of the other man's shoulders. And then those strong, slender fingers were grasping at his shoulder, those words in the air heavy with threat and thrill. The date of death had been wrong. It was tonight, not tomorrow. Couldn't coroners even do their god-damn job right ( ... )

sherlock_please June 16 2011, 08:30:48 UTC

Catching the keys, Sherlock hesitated only long enough to see her bare her teeth. He'd been right. The wet hems, the luring of someone to their death... it was true, she was a Nix. Sherlock was not hit with a wall of disbelief as some might have been, did not need to stand by and freak out over what he'd just seen. He had been harboring a healthy, logical disbelief since he'd first read the page, but she was proof enough that it was real, and that was all he needed ( ... )