Unknowingly to John, the angels stopped. They sensed a greater source of time energy than an ordinary army doctor. Well, ordinary to them but he really wasn't. Sherlock doesn't associate with ordinary people very often. When he does, he usually shouts at them to get information out of them.
"Sherlock!" John continued running through the abandoned house bellowing his name.
"In here." Came a calm voice. "Get Molly on the phone," John stumbled into the room gasping for breath and caught Sherlock's phone.
"Did you...?" John was breathless. "You didn't see anything..." He put his hands on his knees. "Strange in here did you?"
Sherlock squinted at him. "No. What's wrong?" He stood up. "You look like you've been...frazzled."
"Oh I'm fine, just terrorized by a bunch of statues, but fine" John threw up his arms. "I'll just be your personal secretary, No big deal" John punched the number into Sherlocks phone angrily.
"You know you could have just looked in the favorites," Sherlock muttered, "No need to take out your anger on the phone."
"Whatever, Um yes Hello, it's me, yes it's John!" John paced around then spotted it. "Sherlock? What have you got there?" He was staring at the body of Ophelia. The description matched perfectly to what Dolly had said. "What? No, I was talking to Sherlock. No I haven't got any idea why I'm his personal secretary at the moment. I thought he could act his age and make his own calls. Yes, fine. Hold on" John tossed the phone to Sherlock who caught it in one hand without looking up from Ophelia. "Nice catch" John said sarcastically. Sherlock was undeterred by his sarcasm and up the phone up to his ear. Molly's voice seemed like she was angry but, Sherlock just smiled. It was as if Sherlock had began to fancy her because all of a sudden she had a backbone. It was odd. He had stopped embarrassing her on a daily basis and smiled like a proud parent when she stood up to him. That made John wonder. No, no of course not. Sherlock thought that love in general was a human error and the last girlfriend he had he was using to break into a building. John smiled, of course that would be his best friend a sociopath with no emotions whatsoever.
"Oh hello Molly, I don't care if your eating lunch, Come on down to the Crawely estate, I think you'll be pleased." Sherlock smiled "Yes of course it's a murder what else? I'm here now I have a cab waiting outside the hospital" he hit the end button.
"How do you have a cab outside the hospital?" John asked forgetting he was supposed to be examining the woman.
"I have my ways & sources. Having a brother who controls the British government helps too. Though I wish he would stop telling me that." He smirked and stuck up his nose "I'm the King of England and mummy's favorite." He said in a high pitch voice as he mocked his older brother.
"Why do I even bother?" John muttered to himself knowing that Sherlock wouldn't have listened any way. He knelt down and resumed examining Olphelia.
"Hmm, that's odd." His face was cloudy with confusion. He felt her neck.
"John how intelligent lacking are you? She's obviously dead. Why she's dead is the question." Sherlock insulted him as if John was a five year old.
"I know she's dead it's just..." John resumed examining her neck. His face was the picture of confusion. "I don't see how I mean," John muttered to himself. He stood up and walked around the body. Then resumed examining her.
"What just what!?" Sherlock all but shouted at him.
"Her neck," he paused to be sure of himself, examining her even more closely, "Its broken." He looked up to see Sherlocks reaction. Sherlock looked puzzled and knelt down to examine her. After a few moments he took a picture of her shoes. They weren't anything fancy just the typical shoes for the typical 'hipster'. Sherlock went on to type some things into search engine. Then, he smiled and looked up at John.
"Look at her shoes John," He looked like a kid in a candy store. Although that was his normal look when he discovered the cause of death.
"Her shoes?" John gave Sherlock the "this is not the time to be a fashionista" look. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and gestured to her feet. He was still smiling like he was proud of himself.
"So? They're just some sneakers, nothing special." John shrugged, waiting for the coming explanation on how stupid he was. Getting none he continued with the most bizarre explanation he could think of. "Oh let me guess the shoes are brand new and not broken in yet so she tripped and broke her neck" John retorted sarcastically. Sherlock looked surprised.
"Well at least you're good at something." He seemed serious which is the most irratating thing in the solar system if you are his one and only friend. The worst of it is that if you told Sherlock this he would either ignore you or ask you what the solar system was.
"I was right," John laughed "She broke her neck because her shoes weren't broken in. Right, sure"
"That's the only explanation I can come up with unless..." Sherlock looked into the distances like they do in the movies. He was obviously deep in thought. Ugh, John hated when he did this. He sat down.
"This could take a while" he thought. It usually did. Sometimes Sherlock would go off for hours on end and not move, sometimes hardly blinking. John had once gone on a short holiday and come back to find Sherlock sitting in the same spot unshaven with a tray of uneaten biscuits next to him. Then, he would snap right out of it and not even know that John had been gone. That wasn't even the worst of it though because Sherlock would then tell him to be his personal secretary and text a murderer or something like that. He didn't even know that John had a life outside of solving crimes. He was a great doctor and father to be. Although his wife is an ex assassin, but that was besides the point. John was pondering what color the nursery should be (definitley not the alarming shade of teal that Olphelia's t-shirt was), when Sherlock finally came back to earth.
"Molly should be here soon," he uttered almost to himself though loud enough for John to hear in the empty, dusty, house. There was a distinct slam of a car door and the old house groaned as Molly climbed the old Victorian steps.
"Oh!" Came her distinct cry. That was all Sherlock needed. John had never seen him move that fast. Well maybe when they were running away from the police after being arrested. Or maybe the time they were chasing a taxi through London in the middle of the night on the day after they met. Come to think of it he had moved pretty fast when he heard a weird wheezing sound outside. But other than that Sherlock preferred to stay at a normal fast paced walk that was just fast enough for John to have to jog to keep up with him. Sherlock probably could take care of it. Molly probably just walked into a chair or a spider web. At least that's what John hoped had happened.