_*_*_Sherlock_*_*_

It was all different.

No John.

Dust and darkness,

No John.

Everything looked to be in place but yet not at all.

No John.

Sherlock Holmes stood in the familiar flat of 221B Baker Street looking around the room, his thoughts spinning with the events of the night before. He hadn't stopped to observe the accommodations in the late hours seeing only to the nearest sofa after the multiple hits he had taken from John Watson's fury.

My Watson,

He thought sadly reliving the look of complete and utter betrayal he had seen in the good doctor's eyes at the restaurant.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock called breaking his bleak thoughts.

It took a few more calls before the creaking on the stairs announced the arrival of the creaky old landlady. She as always wore a bright cheerful smile that irritated him at points but secretly gladdened him.

"Oh Sherlock what's all the yelling about? You're too rambunctious in the morning." Mrs. Hudson coddled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically. "Has anything been moved?" he asked walking around the room stepping over furniture or walking on the cushions.

The old woman looked about "Excuse me?" she asked unsure of his question.

Sherlock frowned "Has anything in this room been moved?" he repeated a bit louder.

Mrs. Hudson took a brief moment to glance over the room, "Dear no I couldn't bring myself to touch anything like John I always had a feeling you would be back." She replied with a wide smile.

Sherlock sighed loudly "Are you certain nothing has been moved or removed?" he repeated briskly.

Mrs. Hudson frowned looking a bit cross "Other than John Watson no." she answered her words rang through the room startling Sherlock a bit.

John.

Hearing her Sherlock realized that's why the room felt wrong and somewhat empty because of John's absence. Even when John wasn't around Sherlock always felt his presence in the flat.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson that will be all." Sherlock spoke quietly that he was surprised she had heard him.

"Very well dearie call if you need anything or you could always come down and talk." Mrs. Hudson said as her parting words before shutting the door and descending down the stairs.

Sherlock sat heavily on the sofa staring down at the floor.

You could have been a bit nicer

John's voice rang in Sherlock's head "You know me better than that, you know I don't do nice," Sherlock said aloud not feeling a bit foolish for talking to someone who clearly wasn't there.

You could be considerate of Mrs. Hudson's feelings

The voice scolded Sherlock puffed "Mrs. Hudson is a strong women who is very capable of speaking her mind, if she had something to say she could have said it," he chided, "besides I don't know about you but I believe I've had enough of everyone's insistence on emotions."

Sherlock we're human. Humans have emotions and so do you when you want to.

Sherlock sat back against the sofa rubbing his temples "Emotions are just the brain's response to situations. Emotions are a chemical reaction nothing more and they are most certainly not something to be so paraded on about." He sighed feeling the John voice starting to fade.

Prat

Sherlock chuckled finding John's insult slightly amusing "I've been called worse things," he murmured standing up from the seat and giving the place another look over.

_*_*_John_*_*_

"I am losing my mind," John muttered as he stood in front of 221B Baker Street debating on going inside.

John was still reeling over the fact he had actually assaulted a patient who he thought had been Sherlock in disguise. Mary had wanted to talk about it but John only wanted to put it behind him "I am hoping that we won't ever have to hear from that man," he told her after the fact.

"Don't worry, you didn't hurt him, just you know made him believe you are off your rocker." She teased John had to smile at that. He then decided to go and see Sherlock.

So here he was standing in front of the familiar door with the brass 221B staring back at him invitingly.

"I should be home with Mary not here," he told himself eyeing the front a bit longer. "Bloody hell," John hissed moving for the door.

Moving through for the stairs leading up to Sherlock's flat, John passed Mrs. Hudson door and he smiled softly when he heard her familiar rummaging beyond the door. Hurrying up the stairs John planted a few knocks on the door before entering without waiting for permission.

The living room was empty, still the same clutter that John had lived with but it was a welcoming sight.

"Sherlock," he called not wanting to look for the man. A momentary pause followed by the heavy footfalls of the inhabitant from the kitchen before Sherlock's lanky figure appeared wrapped in his bathrobe.

The two stared at each other a moment, John found it a bit ridiculous so he moved to sit down in his usual armchair. As he passed Sherlock the taller man actually flinched "What's that about?" John asked lowering himself into the seat.

Sherlock was quiet as he moved to flop gracelessly down on the sofa "I didn't want you to hit me again," he confessed John glanced over his friend's face noting the barely visible yellowing bruises.

"No I think you had enough last night," John told him giving the man a hint of irritation at the edge of his voice.

Sherlock looked immediately guilty "John I cannot profess how incredibly sorry I am for the last two years, it was a necessary precaution but I realize that it may have damaged whatever friendship we had," he spoke and would have continued if John hadn't held up a hand.

"I haven't come here to hear your apology Sherlock," he sighed folding his hands on his lap, "I came here to hear what you needed me for." John did want to know but not at the moment. He didn't want to hear the reasoning behind Sherlock, forcing him to watch a fake suicide.

Sherlock took a brief pause before clearing his throat "Ah of course right to business then, good," he said with a flash of disappointment followed by relief. John knew his friend was rather uncomfortable when it came to talking about feelings or most human natures.

"Mycroft was kind enough to ascertain my assistance in the apprehension of a terrorist faction that is planning on an attack on London itself." Sherlock spoke quickly.

John's eyes widened "Terrorists?" he breathed.

Sherlock nodded "Indeed Mycroft believes the attack is imminent and will occur in the next few days," he said, "I have been keeping tabs on known and suspected agents." Sherlock reported standing and promptly step over the coffee table moving towards the desk covered in loose papers.

John pushed himself from the chair and followed though going around the furniture instead of over. Sherlock proceeded to show John several pictures of ordinary looking men and woman "And?" John asked after the show and tell. Sherlock glanced at him with a questioning look.

John sighed "And what did you find after observing these people?" he clarified.

Sherlock frowned looking back at the paper's "Absolutely nothing if anyone of them were involved there would be signs. An alteration in their routine but there is nothing. Though I did get this from a client," Sherlock added pulling a laptop from under some papers and opening it up. Letting the thing warm up Sherlock typed quickly on the keyboard then accessed a video.

John watched a short section of footage showing a man getting on a carriage before the video cut to another train station showing the same train but no one got off. "That is certainly strange," John commented dumbstruck by how the man disappeared between the two stations and also by how this connected with the terrorist attack.

"This man is a known associate of a secret organization but has strong political and governmental connections." Sherlock said seeming to know John's thoughts.

"So you think he is the one who will set off the attack?" he asked.

Sherlock paused looking at John "The facts point towards it." He confirmed.

John watched him a moment thinking what they should do next, "Well then we should probably find out where this man disappeared to." He said Sherlock looked very pleased.