~ Prologue ~
Young Sherlock was eight years, three months, four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes old when he discovered that he was nothing like anyone else.
It took him an additional fourteen minutes to come to the conclusion that being different—well, being different like he was, at least—was simultaneously a tremendous gift and a terrible problem.
It took him a final thirty seconds to shut everything and everyone out.
At the tender age of eight years, three months, four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes, Young Sherlock was sitting in his bedroom, ignoring his chores.
This was not unusual. Young Sherlock was wont to spend significantly more time letting his imagination run wild than focusing on all the boring, important things people would have him do.
After all, what child is going to focus on summer homework and taking out the trash when the mysteries of the universe lie in wait under their nose, waiting to be solved?
Read the rest via the link in the description!