,,I don't feel like solving anything, John,'' said Sherlock sadly and he looked almost tired of pronouncing these words.
,,Sorry, I think I've overheard. You trying to convince me that you, Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Bored-without-case, aren't interested in solving anything? What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Sherlock? Whole week you're just distracted and yesterday you complained that we have in the fridge almost no food.''
John glanced at Sherlock, that suddenly stood up. Stagey ignoring his worrying concerned friend, he checked his text messages.
Come and play.
Jim Moriarty
He just raised his eyebrows, sighed and said softly: ,,Jim wanted me to play with him. What do you think, John – Should I?'' His voice sounded kind of sarcastically, but his eyes were so needy, that John felt sudden urge hug him. It was difficult to answer, because although that Sherlock surely needed a case, on the other hand he didn't look ready for facing Moriarty. To be honest, he didn't look ready for leaving the flat.
This weak, pale man with clothing, which hung on him, stained with tea wasn't the undaunted Sherlock Holmes, the first and only consulting detective in whole world. It was almost painful sometimes to see him in this way, seeing him as vulnerable human being.
,,Maybe it's Scotland Yard's turn for this time.''
Sherlock frowned suspiciously and lied back on the sofa, continued staring at the ceiling. John was used to taciturn Sherlock, but this was different. This just wasn't right. However he's adult, he surely will get out of it himself. John went to bed, leaving him in the darkened living room alone.
,,Come and play... The game is on!'' whispered Sherlock to emptiness, eyes snapped open. He just cannot stopped thing about playful Jim, only him can relieve boredom of all the ordinary days. But today was exciting enough, he thought. John will leave, if I wouldn't start solving crimes again. He's bored, just as I used to be.
But he was afraid, even though he stubbornly asserted himself opposite. He was afraid that his skills are not as good as they used to be. Well, even Mycroft slowed down. Middle age. What if, contemplated Sherlock, I'll never again solve anything? It's not inevitable, of course, but... What if? John would leave me – Moriarty would find someone more interesting – Mycroft would probably stop talk to me either. And I couldn't go to the hospital again, because I'll become just ordinary, stupid Sherlock. I would be just rude, not arrogant, just crude.
I'll be there in less than ten minutes.
Jim Moriarty
He probably will fancy some tea. I should brew some. I really should. Well, he'll be okay even without it, right? Sherlock waited without any single move for his arch-enemy, feeling pressure of responsibility for John. But it was too late to texted him: Go home, John. Go to Mary, I'll be fine.
Primarily because he knew, that he will not be alright.
,,Wake up, Sherlock,'' said squeaky voice from the door frame.
,,Are you still angry at me? You shouldn't be... Talk to me, Sherly.''
,,I'm not in mood for playing, Jim.'' His words just melted in the air, they were so fond and quite. Sherlock's tone taken aback the visitor.
,,Oh,'' muttered Moriarty. The dark was growing, while through the room sounded ragged breathing of both rivals. It was truly ridiculous, Sherlock felt bad for unsuspecting John upstairs, so he chose to promise Moriarty compensation.
,,I'll text you tomorrow, then,'' replied Jim in his deepest voice. ,,See you, Sherlock!'' And he closed the door behind himself almost inaudibly.
Sherlock sought energy for a while and then ran up the stairs to check whether is John okay. At least I have a plan for tomorrow, it could be fun and John will be pleased.