( Not related to the prompts, but a short story that I came up with while writing them )
Timeline: A year before the first story will start
“See? What’d I tell ya? It’s perfect.”
Sam frowned, glancing from side to side in the newly-discovered ‘room’ they’d taken for themselves in the wall of one of the flats on Baker Street. It was cozy and dark, some scattered beams of light slipping through cracks in the wall. Sam brushed a hand against that wall, peering out into the flat beyond.
None of the humans that called 221B Baker Street their home were around at the moment, leaving the brothers on their own to check things out. And there was plenty to see.
So many rumors dogged this place that they’d nearly heeded their adopted family’s advice and gone elsewhere. But it was so tempting.
For two brothers, raised to make a difference, the last place they’d want to end up at was a dead end, unable to help anyone. Hell, unable to help themselves.
Dean had heard of the Consulting Detective and his doctor of a flatmate, two men who did what they wanted to do– helping others, whether they saw it that way or not.
It was an irresistible temptation, and once Dean had looked in on the events at the flat, his mind was made up. The chance to hear about cases? Solving murders? Sign him up, he’d take it. Though it might not be hunting monsters with his dad the way he’d thought he’d be doing years back before his curse, it would do.
“I suppose,” Sam said slowly, his voice lowered so any possible humans in the area would never be able to hear him. “It’s not the worst…”
Dean almost glowed at the assessment and jumped straight into his excited rambling, already prepared to make his case.
“If you check out over here, the wall’s nice and weak. We’ll be able to make a door just like at our old place. And back here,” Dean gestured, dragging Sam along with him, “there’s a straight shot to the kitchen counter. Whatever else they keep in there, they have to put food in the cabinets eventually, and that means we’ll be able to snitch it.” He waved over his head. “Old walls, plenty of passages and weak spots, lots of clutter in the main flat so anything we take goes unnoticed…”
Dean paused, and looked at Sam. “It’s perfect,” he reiterated hopefully.
Sam’s mouth thinned to a line as he considered it. “What about the ‘experiments?’ ” he asked quietly.
Dean’s eyes shot towards the kitchen with a slight wince. They both knew all about Sherlock Holmes and his ‘experiments.’ Far too much. Rumors abounded in the walls about the odd body parts Sherlock kept around, even going so far as to keep them in the fridge or microwave. It was right out of a horror movie, if the man got his hands on any people like that.
“We’re not gonna get caught,” Dean affirmed. “We’re some of the best around, and you know it. With your sense and my knack… we can make this work.”
Sam was caught off guard by the sudden pleading in Dean’s eyes. It wasn’t often that Dean tried turning his own puppy eyes on his younger brother, since they rarely worked so well but this time…
“Sure,” Sam sighed.
What could possibly go wrong?