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This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
Sherlock Holmes was seven-years-old, sitting on the swing set in his back yard, crying and rubbing his arm, wishing for somebody, anybody to come help him.
(I own nothing of these characters. All Sherlock rights go to the BBC, Moffat, and Gatiss. All Torchwood rights go to the BBC and to RTD. I'm just having some fun.)
