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[His Stu had caused nothing but stress for the past several days; moving things around his room, following him around, always insisting on standing that little too close.All small, petty things to most, but for Holmes they were actions that he couldn't tolerate for much longer. Having used a small amount of something or other, his alleged Brother was now unconcious on the floor of the bedroom.
Holmes had headed outside, in need of space, in need of peace. He'd brought his violin with him simply by accident, as he'd bee carrying it with him when his Stu had...become incapacitated. Tuning the instrument as he walked, when he next looked up he saw he was surrounded by high hedges. Turning around, he was met with the same sight. He frowns to himself, literally having no idea where he could be. So, he continues on, a little more cautiously this time.
After an hour he caves, and slumps down in the brightest spot he could find under the moonlight. Thinking for a moment, he places the violin on his shoulder, and begins to play. He doesn't seem to notice how close he is to the house, nor does he seem to care if he wakes anyone. He hadn't had a case for weeks, he had no games or puzzles, or Watson or London. Nothing. Nothing but his music.]