Another fanfiction? I have too many ideas for my own good. Anyways, Phil the squirrel owns nothing! Enjoy!
Days like this reminded Sally why she hated the Freak so much.
It only took the man three minutes to solve the case that had taken them hours to come up with theories for. The Freak gave Anderson, who stood next to Sally by the window of the room, a smirk as he pointed out everything that the forensics team had missed.
"Did you even think to check the medicine cabinet? The syringe and the poison should be right there, hidden among the other medications our poor Mr. Lewis took. He certainly took a lot of them, being diabetic and-"
Sherlock was cut off by the buzzing of a phone. With a groan, the Freak smoothly slid the device from his coat pocket.
Sally took the opportunity to glance over at DI Lestrade. The man was giving the Freak a disapproving frown. As much as he defended the man, Sally knew that Lestrade found him just as arrogant and rude as the rest of Scotland Yard did.
She turned to look back at the Freak, just in time to see him do something unexpected. As Sherlock glanced at the Caller ID, he turned even paler than normal and swept out of the room.
Exchanging glances with the DI and Anderson, Sally and the two walked over to the doorway to listen to Sherlock's conversation. The Freak had pressed the phone to his ear, "Yes?"
Hearing Sherlock's voice, and detecting a more interesting form of entertainment than their work, several of the other Yarders on the scene moved closer to the detective.
"This is he. Is John-" Sherlock was cut off by someone on the other line. The group of onlookers watched in shock as Sherlock's expression changed from one of fear and concern to horror. Three emotions from Sherlock in five minutes when they usually got one for several months? Something was up.
He listened a little longer and let out a strangled little whimpering sound. He looked like an injured puppy as he resumed the call.
"Yes, I understand. Thank you," Sherlock hung up on whomever had caused this emotional turmoil. To the shock of everyone else on the scene, Sherlock seemed to lose his strength and slumped against the brick wall behind him, muttering "John" as he slid to the ground.
He took a deep breath as he recovered his self control, stood up, and quietly punched another number into his mobile.
"Harry? It's Sherlock."
The man pulled the phone away from his ear as he was bombarded with enough yelling for everyone to hear. Despite the fact that the caller wasn't on speaker, the others could still make out what 'Harry' said perfectly.
"Sherlock! What did you do now? I haven't heard from you in months, so something must be up. Oh, no, is it John? John's dead. That's it isn't it? Oh, I'm a terrible sister!"
Sally recognized the tone as a 'you've made me mad, so you' better have a good reason for calling' tone. So, pretty much everyone's tone when they talked to Sherlock. Sally became slightly concerned as the voice went from being extremely angry to bordering on hysterical.
"Harry!" Sherlock shouted trying to regain control.
The voice on the other end silenced.
Sherlock took a breath, as if what he was about to say would hurt him terribly. "Yes, Harry, I've got some bad news. John's been shot."
Everyone had three things ringing in their heads at that point.
1) Who was this 'John'?
2) Why did Sherlock care so much?
And 3) 'John' got shot?
They were all too shocked and confused to really think about the questions that filled their heads.
"I'm going to see if Mycroft can help," Sherlock said softly. "I'll meet you outside the Diogenes Club. You too, bye."
No one spoke as Sherlock turned and rushed off to hail a cab. Sally thought she saw tears in his eyes as he rushed by her, but quickly dismissed the thought. Sherlock 'I have no emotions' Holmes didn't cry.
Did he?
Just so you know, I hope to update Reichenbach Misunderstandings sometime soon. Hopefully in the next few days. Please be patient with me. I doubt that I'll update Memories of Sherlock anytime soon though. Sorry!
Thanks for reading!