A/n: Thanks to everyone who has read these! They're short, I know. But there will be a lot of them, and that's the point. Review, review, review! Give me ideas, if you want. PROMPTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME. :)

The heroin courses through his veins. Everything is sharp, bright, clear. Sherlock sits on a black leather couch in the middle of a crowded room. Sweaty teenage bodies sway to the beat of unsteady music. Laughter. Piercing laughter. A couple is intertwined in a corner.

He can see everything, hear everything. He flexes his arm, pushing the drug deeper into his system. Convulsions run through his arched back as a new wave of piercing senses glide through him.

He stares ahead, his sharp green eyes biting through his eyelashes to the space before him. A brunette girl leads a young boy to the stairs. The boy's sandy hair is ruffled and his face is flushed. He trips over a stray bottle, almost pulling the girl down with him. They ascend the stairs.

Sherlock stands, pushing his way through the throng, opening the front door, and stepping into the cool, crisp air. He lights a cigarette, taking a long drag. The smoke forms rings. Moonlight streams down, illuminating the street. The house behind him thrums with energy. Shrieks and laughter from inside spill into the lawn.

A glass breaks.

Sherlock picks up a shard, pressing it into his skin. A stream of blood trickles down his arm. It colors the pavement, staining it with rust.

The night dissolves.