Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

Let’s not blow up the lab

Interesting. This rat had definitely not died of natural causes. Sherlock had known that something was off as soon as the dead creature had been dumped on the desk for John and him to dissect. He didn’t care what the actual task was, truthfully he wasn’t sure, but rather concentrated on deducing the cause of its death. More fun. Worked his brain. If only a little.

Obviously he knew what it was that killed the rat. Rat poison. Obvious, easy. He just needed to make sure that he could prove it. Found out the exact compound and all the typical signs.

Frowning slightly Sherlock scribbled something on the piece of paper next to him. He wasn’t sure who’s paper it was but who cared? He glanced to the side, eyes narrowed. John was inspecting the heart at the moment. He’d need to get that back.

“The heart, John.” The look he got was one of incredulity. The people at the desk next to them turned their heads to look. Brilliant. All he was doing was asking for the heart.

“The heart?” Sherlock repeated, all while scribbling a few notes down. A snigger fluttered into his ear, a sound he’d been hearing all day during class. Anderson obviously. Sherlock just ignored him. Fixed John with his even stare, one hand turning the animal before him. He was managing to make himself stand out as weird without trying.

“I’m still using it, Sherlock,” John moved over to look at Sherlock’s notes. His eyes widened then narrowed again in slight annoyance. “What are you doing?!” He practically hissed, eyes darting towards the teacher in a nervous manner. Sherlock didn’t understand why. “We’ll get in trouble!”

Sherlock shrugged. “So? This class is so bo-ring! Death is so much more fun. It was rat poison.” John snorted.

“One day and I already want to punch you.” Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow at that statement. He was used to that kind of threat, if it was one. He promptly pulled the heart away and began to dissect it. Ignoring John’s pleas to stop and do the actual work. Hah. What a stupid suggestion.

“Rat poison!” Sherlock declared triumphantly, drawing the gazes of those within earshot. “I was correct!”

“Now can we-“ John was cut off by the ringing of the bell, signalling the end of the period. Sherlock glanced at his watch. 12:30. Lunch. He would skip it to try and sneak into a chemistry lab. After having a smoke first, obviously.

“Finish your formal write-up for homework!” Sherlock rolled his eyes at the teacher’s order. Boring. He wouldn’t be doing that. John sighed, beginning to pack away his folders and clear away the experiment.

“Well, well, look who we have here. If it isn’t the new Mr. Genius. How are you enjoying your first day?” The words were spoken in a drawl, an Irish lilt filtering through. Sherlock turned to face the source, scrunching up his findings and stuffing them into the pocket of his coat. He had refused to take it off even when threatened with a detention. He wore their stupid uniform under it so shouldn’t they be happy with that?!

“You must be James Brook,” Sherlock replied calmly, eyes fixed on the boy before him. Obviously sixteen. Troublemaker. A leader. No emotions on show. Intelligent... interesting. His gaze flickered to the other two flanking the first. Both seventeen, female and male. Equally dangerous, Sherlock deduced, but in different ways. Troublemakers.

“Correct,” James smile, a fake one. Obvious. Too obvious. “But please, call me Jim. This is Irene and Sebastian. I thought it would be nice to talk to you. Since we’re both... above the level of our age.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes. This boy acted so charismatic yet was obviously a sinister character.

“I’m going to have to pass on that, I have important... homework to do,” Sherlock eventually lied smoothly albeit in a rather stiff manner. John moved to stand next to him, a frown on his face of barely concealed... hate? Annoyance? Something like that.

“As you say,” James smirked slightly, as if he knew something, stepping aside to let him pass. The look Sherlock got from Irene was much like one of a predator towards prey. He was not sure what to think about her. So he tried not to. Instead he walked past, John following with a dark look on his face.

“Until the next time, Sherlock Holmes. And you too, John.” Was that a... threat? Certainly seemed so. Sherlock grinned, almost celebrating on the inside. James obviously didn’t like there being someone younger and smarter than him. But still, he interested Sherlock. Posed a threat, a real threat. Was a worthy opponent of Sherlock. Like a bully would to a normal school child. But here it was a game, a game that had just begun. A game of wits. Were they were evenly matched. Similar.

Sherlock looked forward to their next meeting.

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