Enola Holmes HIDDEN IRIS'

3 - Looking for yourself

Kindrea's POV:

I pounded on the door to Tewkesbury's apartment, anger seeping in deeper the longer he took to open the door, "Coming!" He called from the other side, the sound of metal shifting told me he was unlocking the door, pulling the wood open, "Kindrea?" He questioned, hope building in his eyes before I would squash it, "Did you find something?" He asked, allowing me to enter his very green home.
"I found out Enola is Sherlock's sister," I spun on my heels glaring at the boy.
The slight widening of his eyes allowed me to know that he purposely hid this information, "I-You-um," he stuttered, taking a breath, "When I asked Sherlock who could help he said you, I don't think he meant for me to hear and the way he said it made me think it was a sensitive topic so I did some research on you-" I put my hand up, silently telling him to stop talking.
"Tewkesbury," I gritted my teeth, "There is a reason you thought it was a sensitive topic and you shouldn't have dragged me into this," I glared, taking in the apologetic boy in front of me, I took a deep breath, "I need you to come with me," I started heading out the door.
Tewkesbury scrunched his face, confusion clear, "Where? What are we doing?" He asked, moving to follow me.
I started heading down the stairs as he rushed to lock his door, "Limehouse Lane, might need back up," I answered.
I didn't expect Tewkesbury to react in any way, but he did, "Woah, woah, woah," he quickly caught up to me, "Why are we going there?" he questioned, pulling my arm back, emphasizing his reluctance to go to the sketchy part of town.
I pulled my arm from him and continued my path down and out of the building, "Enola's last case lead her there, the scene at her apartment was staged she wasn't taken there, she found out that the girl was taken to Limehouse Lane so that is the last place she could possibly be," I answered, "Why are you so touchy about Limehouse Lane?" I stopped my walk, the boy bumping into my back as I started to spin around.
"Limehouse Lane was part Enola's first case, well not technically, but also-" the boy paused as I gave him a 'get to the point' stare, "Right, um, it was where she found bombs her mother made and where she was attacked by a man trying to kill me," he clapped his hands together proud of his summary, then he realized that he was smiling about Enola being attacked.
I contemplated the connections, they can't have been coincidental, "Even more reason to check it out," I sent him a wink before getting back to my journey to Limehouse Lane.

We reached the dark, damp, and dreary neighborhood, the dim light of the moon and candles from windows, the only source of light we had available. Tewkesbury tried to avoid the puddles of water lining the ground while I focused on the surrounding details.
The Lane was frequently used, any evidence of a struggle would mostly be washed away either by the passer byers or the rain. Mostly.
I entered a walkway with broken glass windows lining one wall, the roof above allowing no rain to get through.
I studied the long table, things were tossed about, drag marks shifted the dust and items along the old wood. A shattered glass bottle spread across the floor beside the desk, a few of the shards layering a pattern on the table, she smashed it across her attackers head. A dried pool of blood marked the floor of the adjacent wall, splatters of more blood marked the wall above.
This is where she was taken.
"Tewkesbury," I called the boy, my body crouched down next to the shattered glass, I looked under the table.
An envelope laid untouched under the lower shelf of the table, I pulled it out, about to open the thin paper, "What's that?" Tewkesbury asked.
"A taunt," I didn't answer, rather a familiar male answered Tewkesbury's question.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before I stood up to see the persistent male, "Holmes," I greeted irritatedly, "Are you stalking me?" I tilted my head with an insincere smile.
Rolling his eyes he stepped forward, attempting to take the envelope from my hand, I shifted it back, "Hello Sherlock," Tewkesbury smiled.
My expression shifted from mock kindness to pure fury, "I had one rule, Tewkesbury..." I continued to glare into Sherlock's eyes, our staring contest a test of dominance for this case, "No Sherlock!" I hissed, stepping away with the envelope in hand.
Tewkesbury remained quiet, observing my interaction with Sherlock, "You don't know half the information about this case, Kin, you wo-" I twisted around, Sherlock jumped back a little surprised at my sudden action.
"You lost the right to call me, Kin," I whisper-yelled, moving back to my path away from the Holmes man.
The sound of Sherlock scoffing made every cell in my body freeze, "I lost the right?" He practically laughed, I continued taking deep breaths, closing my eyes, trying not to snap at the man, "You're the one who said no."

Eleven years ago...

'Where are we going?' I laughed as Sherlock pulled me through the meadow we always went to.
It was my birthday, I was finally eighteen, just a few months younger than Sherlock, 'It is a surprise, Kin,' I could practically hear his eyes roll.
He glanced back at me, a nervous smile crossing his lips, he stopped us in the middle of the greenery, the sounds of birds and leaves drifting around us, the wind playing a melody of nature.
He turned back to me, 'Kin," he started his speech, a serious look crossing his face.
'Sherlock,' I mocked him, giggling as he smiled, shaking his head at my theatrics.
Grabbing my shoulders he steadied my body, stopping me from laughing, I tried to repress my grin, putting on a 'serious' expression, 'I'm being serious here' I hummed, nodding my head, biting my lips shut to keep from laughing anymore. 'I first want to say happy birthday,' he started his speech again.
'Thank you,' I replied.
'I then wanted to tell you that we have known each other for a long time,'
'Yes, I was there,' Sherlock shook his head, continuing on.
'And I was wondering if...'
'Yes...' I encouraged him to continue.
'You would allow me to court you,' he breathed the words.
The wind stilled around me, the birds quiet and the leaves no longer rustled, Sherlock Holmes stood in front of me waiting for my response.
Sherlock Holmes wanted to court me, wanted to marry me.
'No,' I replied quietly.
No, Sherlock couldn't court me, shouldn't, no. He was going to London, he was going to become a detective, no. He needed to start his career, no.
The male in front of me stood with an expressionless look, 'No?' He questioned my answer.
The male in front of me changed before my eyes, our eyes stayed on each other, his usually bright eyes shifted, I could no longer read what he was thinking, though what he was feeling was clear, broken.

I regained my posture, standing tall, opening my eyes, my vision blurred by unwanted tears, I wanted to say yes, I wanted him to court me, I wanted him by my side for the rest of our lives, but it wasn't what he needed.
I walked away, Tewkesbury frantically looking between Sherlock and I, questioning who he should stay with, "You should give her the leads," he ordered Sherlock, deciding to follow me, remaining silent not knowing what to say about the scene he just witnessed.
I made my way back to the hotel, Tewkesbury walking me to the door before he headed home himself.
I closed the door to my room, leaning my body against the wood to regain my thoughts, 'emotions cause mistakes,' I heard his voice in my head.
Pushing the thoughts away I turned to my crime board, I had taken Enola's board, adding a few things to my own based off of her case.
I opened the envelope, a single slip of paper within, I knew this calling card, I knew this 'taunt' from one of my current cases.
'Dock 3, 48' the slip read, no other indication of where the paper came from, where the envelope was manufactured, he was careful, calculated, everything I knew about him was planted by him, allowing me to know what he wanted me to know.
I pinned the envelope and slip of paper to Enola's board connecting to Limehouse Lane. Grabbing another slip of paper and writing my new suspects name.
'Tristan Strot'
This case is going to be more difficult than I thought.
This case connects to me.