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Summary
(Post-Reichenbach Fall, taking a much darker turn on what happened...)
“Well, what a surprise.”
My eyes opened wide. I was sitting in the chair, my figure hunched over with my face buried in my hands. I could only see my shoes through the gaps of my fingers. I hadn’t heard him come in. My thoughts about running had all but disappeared when I had begun to recall that fated day.Only the recognizable baritone could bring me back from that.
I looked up and saw him sitting across from me. He was chained to the chair, both wrists and ankles strapped down tightly. His same mop of dark brown hair sat tousled and wild. His skin was sickly pale and his eyes were red and blood shot. His cheeks had sharpened from the stress he must have undergone, but it was him.
Sherlock.
The newest patient of the mental institute.