Note: I don't think I'll be putting up the new chapter until at least Thursday, I have a huge exam I have to study for on Tuesday, and by the time I write and relax and stuff, well, it'll be Wednesday or Thursday. I don't have much to say besides that this is my first fic here and comments would be appreciated :) I haven't proof-read too well it because I should start studying. Ok, I'm out. Enjoy while I study *narrows eyes and shakes fist*.

I've never wanted this life. Never liked it. Never wanted this secret fame, this fear, this-

"John?"

My head snaps up, at the sight of Sherlock staring at me with worried eyes. I try to look casual, like I always do. I take a deep breath, calm down, and look back down to the sad sight of the blond girl, spread-eagle on the concrete, with her glazed brown eyes looking up at the blackness of the night, blue and white light form the police cars reflecting in her dead eyes.

"Er- yeah. She was killed with a blow to the head; judging by the pattern, it was something big and heavy enough to kill, but small to conceal on themselves without attracting attention." I consider the suspect and what weapons could end this poor girl's life for a few moments. "If, per say, it was the boyfriend who did it, I'd have to be inclined towards the possibility of it being his football shoes, what do they call them? Cleats I think?"

I get up on my feet (it's quite tiring to crouch for this long) and stretch. I'm not as young as I had always been.

"Quite right. I already knew that, but I wanted you to figure it out. I'll send the information to Lestrade."

By now, I was too used to him doing that to actually care, or notice, so I just nodded as he whipped out his phone and typed a quick message to Lestrade, telling him that we'd solved yet another of his cases.

He finally looks up and flashes me a smile as I looped my arm through his.

"Alright, when's the last time you ate?"

"Monday." He looks utterly nonplussed, and Sherlock had gone on without eating a bite for longer before anyway. But still.

"Sherlock, it's Thursday! You should've said something before you know! God, how do you survive?"

"I don't see the point of concentrating my energies towards eating when I could be doing something practical. I got used to it in my teenage years."

"You're a complete twat," I laugh, punching him softly.

There was a hint of a smile at his lips.

"So what do you want to eat, right now?"

"What about take-away?"

"Sounds good," I say, yawning. "Oh, we'd better get a cab, I don't feel like walking the half of London to get home right now. It's a bit late and I'm tired."

"I'll get one."

"Thanks, love."

Minutes later, we get into a cab and make our way towards Baker Street. Since it's the middle of winter, I cuddle close to Sherlock, inhaling his mixed smell of detergent and some sort of sharp spice of his cloak. I don't know how long we've been in the cab, and don't really care, honestly, the only thing I remember is slowly drifting to sleep.

"John. John, wake up."

I can hear his voice, I know it's Sherlock's, but I really don't want to get up. This is the only sleep I've gotten in the last 24 hours.

Then again.

"John. Get up. There's something wrong."

This time, he nudges me a bit. Damnit.

"What is it?" I mumble, still-half asleep.

"Open your eyes and look outside into the sky," he whispers urgently.

I do as he tells and nearly pass out from shock.

What the fuck is that doing there? It couldn't be. No. He was gone. Forever. I was still too tired to function properly. One quick glance at Sherlock's face tells me, no, I'm not delusional.

I spring up straight, and suddenly, all remains of sleep washed away by the sudden jolt of panic that I try to conceal the best I can.

The sudden action makes the cabbie jump. OK, I must've been out for quite a while, then.

I try to focus my attention on what Sherlock is saying.

"You see the blue light now? Now I want you to look around it, all other light is blocked out, making it become a box. Now the light isn't constant, it's pulsing. Judging by the speed and distance, it's the size of a..." His brows furrow, like always when he's confused and doesn't understand. "Telephone box."

"Er- Are you sure? It could just be a satellite or something, I mean," I chuckle, my voice strained. "It's not like telephone boxes... Fly!"

He looks at me with blazing eyes.

"John, do I look like an amateur?"

"No... It's just... GOD Sherlock! This is ridiculous! You expect me to believe that phone box" I point to the blue box, hand shaking, "is flying through space? I think we both need some time to sleep and relax tonight."

He looks up at the box, hurtling towards the Eye, and without even glancing at me, utters heart-stopping words.

"You're hiding something." He says it as a fact.

"I- what?" Blurting out like that really helps, John. God now I come off as lying and a lunatic.

"Oh please. Everything about your body language and how you're reacting to this is off and too exaggerated. Now, you could keep it from me, or I'll just find out eventually anyway." He sounds so bored. How can he sound so bored while I'm about to have a panic attack?

I don't answer, I just pretend I went back to sleep. My breaths are rugged and I'm certain Sherlock can tell I'm faking, but he doesn't say anything about it.

When we reach Baker Street, we get out and he pays the cabby, then takes long strides towards me, standing stock-still in front of 221B, unable to move.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," I respond quickly, turning the key in the lock. He looks at me, inquiringly, but I don't answer.

We go inside and as soon as we put one foot in 221B, I hear Mrs. Hudson.

"Boys? Is that you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson, you can go back to sleep, it's 2am!"

Sherlock then takes off his coat and scarf, turns to me and says:"Aren't you going to take your coat off?"

"Um, yeah. Sorry, I'm quite tired today."

I take off my coat and bring it upstairs with me, shaking. I can still feel the paper in my hands, scrunched up and small.

I re-read it in my mind, picturing the familiar scrawl.

I'm back! Did you miss me?

You were out so I just left a note, I'll be back tomorrow, though.

I want to explore a bit more of the Titanic first, should be here around tea time.

x,

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