Sherlock-Standing alone

chapter 2: The flight

Set directly after the end of the Sign of three, S3E02

Spoilers:Season 3

So this is a different take on how things could have happened after the wedding. It talks about Sherlock's insecurities and all around fear of being alone (Sherlock is very insecure in this). Enjoy!

Mary jumped at the sound of the door slamming. What on earth was that? From her place on the comfy sofa, she shifted slightly to face the door behind her.

"John? What happened? Is everything ok? Is Sherlock ok?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Sherlock's fine, but he just doesn't want to know me anymore."

"What!? Why!?"

John turned from hanging up his worn coat and sat down next to her. She could tell by the look on his face that he'd been in an argument and was very upset.

"Sherlock thinks I'm basically a burden and he doesn't need me anymore." John scrunched his fists against his fraying trousers and looked down, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in his eyes. Mary scoffed.

"He doesn't need you anymore? He doesn't need you anymore?! John, he obviously needs you. He's always needed you, he fell of a building because he needed you. What makes you think a one off event like a honeymoon is going to change that?"

John knew she had a point. Sherlock always needed John and in pretty much every single case John had been an asset to him in some way, so something must have happened to make him say such awful things.

"Tell me exactly what happened. From the beginning, everything he said."

After recounting the conversation, John observed Mary's thoughtful expression. One of the many things he loved about her was the way she was able to think about things calmly and rationally. It was part of the reason he had been able to carry on after the fall, he had been so lucky to meet her when he did.

"So you're sure he said that."

"Definitely. I was so angry with him at that point that I just stormed out."

Mary lent on her hands and sighed. Why would Sherlock, who thought of John as his only friend want to push him away? She thought back hard. He had been anxious at the wedding and the build up towards it because he'd been told things would change between him and John. Well not Told per-say, but implied as much. But they'd assured him that nothing would change so that shouldn't be a problem. No, that wasn't the problem.

"Well you'll hardly need me anymore, now that you've got a real baby coming."

That was it. Sherlock thought they wouldn't want him around with a baby on the way and the comment he made to John proved it.

"John he doesn't mean it. He's saying it to try and distance himself from us. He thinks that with the baby coming he can't be around anymore." As Mary explained her reasoning and the implications Sherlock had made previously, his eyes widened.

"You have responsibilities now, towards Mary and your unborn child. You don't have time to be chasing pointless lowlifes."

That idiot! How could he even think that!? He would always be a part of John's life, even with Mary and a child.

Suddenly a wave of guilt crashed down on John. He had known how insecure Sherlock had felt about the wedding and had needed constant reassurance that nothing would change. Everyone had warned him, even Mary, that Sherlock believed his marriage would change everything and a child would seal the bargin. For him to feel that pushing his best friend was right must have meant he didn't want to ruin Johns chance at a family. He was looking out for John, actually being considerate (for once). And what had he said?

"I only wanted to come over and ask you if you wanted to be my child's godfather, but since its clear you don't want anything to do with me and i'm so useless, you can forget it!"

That's what Sherlock had wanted the whole time. That's why he hadn't called or texted and had gone on a case on his own. He wanted John to forget about him-leave him. And John had nearly let him.

Nearly.

"I'm going back. There's no way I'm letting that idiot think he's not going to be a part of my life anymore just because a baby's coming. I need to make up for this."

Mary stood up and grabbed her coat and his.

"Call a cab. I'm coming with you."

A few hours after John had left, Sherlock had received a call from Graham Lestrade (It's Greg! For god's sake Sherlock!) saying another murder had taken place in a flat on the opposite side on London and that the flat had caught fire, just like the other one. As soon as Sherlock arrived he tried to barge passed Donovan but she and several others stopped him as they did on every other occasion.

"Where's your friend, freak? Did he finally realise your freakish psychopathic tendencies? About time John worked it out."

Normally Donovan's comments didn't matter to him. But today Sherlock felt bad as it was, considering John was never going to see him again and he'd be alone again. Sending the darkest possible glare he could manage, he turned to face her and spoke in a sharp enough tone, it was almost as if he could cut through ice.

"Maybe more time spent working, and less time spent sleeping with whoever goes round would get you a promotion. Sally."

He quickly spun on his heel and carried on towards the crime scene, not bothering to acknowledge the completely stunned look on everyone's faces. He didn't care anyway.

The crime scene was a messy one. The whole floor of the flat had been set on fire, seemingly by some kind of kitchen appliance, but the particular black carbon streaks around the doors and one particular corner where the body had been, suggested otherwise. But it was slightly vague however, considering most of the evidence and detail had been wrecked in the fire. A clever way to conceal ones tracks but still an obvious give away of murder. The only question was how the killers had managed to escape with the doors on fire. The only option was the window but survalience cameras had not picked that up.

While explaining this to Lestrade, Sherlock became increasingly frustrated with this mystery. Murder was obvious and there had to be a connection with the other recent fire in the other flat.

Or maybe you are just not thinking. Why can't you just THINK?! Is it because you don't have John? THINK!

"Don't you see! The murderer conceals evidence by killing with fire! The only question is how he gets out after and with no windows or doors!"

Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to try and ward off the oncoming headache. He understood the case was frustrating but did the detective have to be such a git. He wasn't usually this bad. Lestrade looked up.

"Where's John?"

Sherlock paused mid speech and spoke quietly.

"He's not coming."

"What? To the crime scene?"

"No. He isn't going to be assisting me anymore. We are no longer friends." Greg watched him swallow and cough slightly. He could see the tall dark-haired detective was struggling to say the words and suddenly felt incredibly sorry for the younger man. No wonder he was in such a foul mood.

"What happened Sherlock?"

"Nothing. I need to know where the man's phone is."

"Sherlock, the phone just got destroyed in the fire. Along with every other bleedin' thing around here."

Sherlock, who appeared to be staring rather intently at the wall quickly turned and ran out. Knowing there was no way to stop the detective now, Greg sighed and signaled for Donovan to come back in. The sociopath was so hard to deal with sometimes, even if he did care about him.

Sherlock ran out of the flat and into the streets. He needed quiet and a place to just Think. The crime scene held no clues whatsoever and the situation with John was-

No! He could not spend the rest of his time thinking about how much he missed him. And yes, even a high functioning sociopath can admit that he misses his friend. Especially if it is his only friend...or was anyway.

He stopped suddenly and turned around. It seemed he had walked so far down that he'd completely lost his way and was quite far from the flat. He was in some narrow rancid ally of sorts which had clearly been avoided by most except the occasional drug addict or intoxicated alcoholic, if the syringe and bottles in the corner were anything to go by. It was strangely dark and seemed to lead to a dead end with the walls made of painted grey stone. Sighing heavily, Sherlock began to head back out of the ally but suddenly felt the sensation of being watched.

This is what happens when you don't pay attention! Mycroft's voice resonated through the walls of his Mind palace as he sighed. Sherlock turned again to survey the area and find any sign of movement, but realised his mistake too late.

An instant crunch and pain in the back of his head sent Sherlock reeling to the floor. As he struggled to stand back up, his vision span and he quickly realised he was concussed. Badly. A dark gloved hand clasped tightly over his mouth while another wrapped around his arms and waist, pinning him tightly against the man's chest. He tried to desperately call out for help and shake him off and turn his head to see the man who had caught him off guard so quickly but the man pushed Sherlock's head back against his shoulder and gripped him even tighter. The pressure around his waist and the disorienting pain at the back of his head made the detective wince and he started to feel sick. Any tighter and he would pass out, which would be the worst case scenario since he'd rather see his captor. Sherlock could deduce from the way he was being held that the man was significantly taller and more buff than him and had some experience with kidnapping others, given the way the man's hand could easily move to cover his nose as well as mouth and effectively suffocate him.

"Shhh mister Holmes. Any sound from you and I'll cut off your air supply. And I don't think the others would appreciate that." English, but not unused to travelling.

At the mention of others, a car pulled outside the ally and three other equally tall men came to join the man holding Sherlock. The men's shadows gave this away and judging by the three varied, but similar tones of voice, the three men were brothers. Again, Sherlock tried to shout out and shake the man off and for a second the hand covering his mouth loosened. Seizing the opportunity, he stamped down hard on the man's foot and pushed back against the stone wall with as much strength as he could muster, sending his captor stumbling behind. He quickly turned but the motion made him sway and his vision darkened completely for a moment. He soon realised he needed medical attention, and quickly if the slow wet trail running and creeping down the back of his neck was any indication.

I need John!

As he steadied himself, he realised the odds were completely against him and the only chance he had was to send a message in the hope that someone would notice. Sherlock saw no other choice and risked pulling his phone out. As quickly as he could, he turned and ran to the end of the ally while typing;

JOHN KIDNAP HELP

He was about to hit send when a hand gripped his arm hard, causing him to drop the phone. Another hand pulled him back by his scarf as it unravelled from his neck, which made him jerk back. Before he knew what was happening, a thick seal of tape was pulled across his mouth and his hands were pulled behind his back to be secured with the same tape. He tried to pull out of their grasp but three against one made it difficult and his head hurt.

"God this one won't let up." Another blow, this time to Sherlock's back and he fell forward, gagged and hands tied. As one of the men hauled him over their shoulders and began to walk to the car, Sherlock lifted his head weakly and stared at the floor where his cracked phone had landed and his scarf lay. Just as he lost consciousness, his mind drifted to John. He hoped the message had sent.

WHOAH! OKAY YOU ARE ALL SO AWESOME-DO YOU REALISE THAT?!

I posted this up thinking 'you know what? Might as well' and came back two days later to find all of you awesome people having followed, faved and reviewed!

DO YOU KNOW HOW HAPPY THIS MAKES ME?! I think my head just exploded-HEADSPLOSION!

Anyway I'm glad you all do like it but I do have a question- would you all rather I posted up smaller but still frequent chapters or longer ones (meaning we'd reach the end sooner)?

It's your call;)

Until the next chapter...