OK so im not sure where this story is going. i may even scrap it. and im warning you now that it'll take me forever to finish. i feel like this one is going to be a longish fic simply because i have a very detailed outline already written out. i got the prompt for this a long time ago and i found it hiding in my computer. *though i changed it a bit to fit my liking*

i do not own anything Sherlock.

Oh, and each chapter will be both in johns then sherlock's POV and thats what is bolded. you'll understand as the story develops why thats needed.

enjoy!


JOHN

"I am going out", is all Sherlock says before John hears the door shut. John looked over and indeed Sherlock's coat and scarf were missing from their place on the rack. Sighing, he turned back around and returned his attention to his work. It wasn't entirely unusual for Sherlock to just up and leave, though as of late he was doing it a bit more frequently. Surely he has his reasons and john is positive he'll let him in on it eventually.

Sherlock doesn't return for a few hours. When John does hear the door open he turns just as Sherlock enters. His mouth is set in a hard line and has a certain tired look in his eyes as if he'd been starring at a screen for hours. He says nothing to John as he hangs up his things and passes him on his way to his own room. Was Sherlock going to bed? John looked at his watch; it was 12:30 AM. A normal person would be tired at this time but Sherlock Holmes?

John rubs his hands over his eyes and shuts his laptop. His back aches as he stands up and stretches. As he heads up the stairs he couldn't help but wonder if Sherlock had something on his mind.

SHERLOCK

After Sherlock left 221B he immediately pulled out his phone and texted Mycroft.

I'm leaving now have tapes ready- SH

He didn't get a reply but it wasn't like he was particularly expecting one. He put his phone back in his coat pocket and turned up his collar against the light wind that blew through the bustling street. Making his way to Mycroft's flat took exactly thirty minutes. When Sherlock bustled through the door he found his brother at a table in the kitchen. He was surrounded in papers for which Sherlock had no care.

"They are in the study" Mycroft said without looking up from whatever Government Issue he was dealing with this week. Though it was unneeded, the CCTV tapes are always in the same place every time Sherlock came to look them over; in the study on Mycroft's personal computer. Sherlock moved to a door opposite of the modern looking living room. His eyes didn't miss the empty plate that sat on the little table next to a large chair.

"Hitting the sweets again brother?" Sherlock said in an airy way as he opened the door. Smirking at Mycroft, he made his way through the door. Mycroft's sigh did not go unnoticed and Sherlock smiled, if only for a moment.

Sitting down at the desk and turning on the computer monitor Sherlock took of his coat and scarf and gave a very uncharacteristic sigh. This was his 5th time reviewing tapes. Though it pained Sherlock to admit it (though no one but Mycroft knew of him looking at the tapes in the first place) this was a tiresome and tedious job. It often left his eyes hurting and his back stiff. A few times, on the days that he hasn't slept in quite a while, he'll even feel lethargic and will usually sleep when he got back to the flat.

Three hours later, when the tapes showed nothing abnormal about the streets surrounding Baker Street, Sherlock rubbed his eyes and retrieved his things. When he left the study he noticed Mycroft in the same position he was in a few hours prior.

"Anything out of the ordinary", Mycroft asked, looking up and placing a pencil on the table. Sherlock shook his head.

"No, but one can never simply expect exciting activity so early on in a case such as this" Sherlock grimaced. This did not go unnoticed by Mycroft who smirked at Sherlock.

"Oh don't get too upset Sherlock! This call will pick up speed and you can get your kicks and endanger yourself and John. You'll risk your life and only just barely make it out alive like you do every other week." Mycroft said with an upturned nose and looked back down at his work. He rubbed his temples and sifted through some papers.

"I hope not Mycroft. This one scares me" Sherlock said in a tired whisper.

He hailed a cab outside Mycroft's flat, for he was too tired to walk all the way back.

When he reached Baker Street he gave the street a quick predatory sweep of his eyes before trudging up the stairs. When he opened the door he was only mildly surprised to see John still up. Unsure of whether or not John was able to detect the weariness of his appearance; Sherlock walked briskly to his room and shut the door. He fell into his bed without changing and was asleep within a few minutes.