Part 2! Enjoy :)

It's not going to be long, before we're all gone,

with nothing to show for them
Stop taking lives, come on let's all grow up again

Don't Run

After Sherlock muttered those words, everything fell into silence. He kept his eyes on John and watched pain and embarrassment flutter across his face. John opened his mouth for a second and was about to respond when Sherlock felt hands on his chest pushing. Pushing really hard.

Molly was determined to push Sherlock out of the apartment and succeeded just as John started speaking. The door slammed in his face and Sherlock instantly went to open the door and he turned the knob. It was already locked.

Knocking loudly on the door, Sherlock demanded that they let him in. Silence came from the apartment and Sherlock's patience was running out when his phone beeped.

I said tonight, Sherlock.

Why can't I just have John now? He seemed completely content with talking to me at this moment. -SH

Sherlock, just trust me. Go home.

Give me John. -SH

No.

Molly, give me John. -SH

He waited for a few minutes and his phone didn't beep after that. Huffing with frustration, Sherlock stalked away from the door and went back to 221B Baker st. He sat, or more like sprawled himself out, on the couch and stuck patches to his arm. He had a cigarette hanging from his fingers and an ashtray sitting beside the couch. It had four cigarette ends squished in it and they were still warm.

"Oh, Sherlock. You shouldn't smoke inside the apartment," Mrs. Hudson scolded sweetly while bringing in some tea along with a few grocery items. "Has John come back yet?"

Sherlock sighed loudly, put his cigarette out in the tray, and twisted to where Mrs. Hudson couldn't see his face.

"Ah, I see. Still not agreeing?"

Muttering something into the couch, Mrs. Hudson made noises like she could understand what he was saying. "Mmhmm."

"Well, Dear, I have to get going to Bingo. Try not to harm yourself, Sherlock," and she left.

Staring into the cushion, Sherlock traced the patterns with his eyes three times before he deemed himself bored with that. Flopping over the other way, he stared at the window and watched as warm yellows and oranges faded into pink and disappeared into the buildings darkness.

He blinked and realized that he had dozed off and the apartment was in darkness. Groaning, he rolled over and heard a beep from the floor next to the ashtray. Groping for the cell phone, he stretched his body trying to reach it without falling off the couch. Succeeding, he opened it and read the text from Molly.

You are still coming, right?

Slight irritation filled his body and he almost replied an angry message when he remembered she still had John, or at least he believed she did.

Is there a reason I am needed at your apartment? I believe if it is for John, you can just send him home. He is an adult and does not need a escort to find his way home. -SH

She didn't respond and Sherlock climbed out of the couch to go break her door down to confront John, but was stopped when the front door opened right in his way. John was holding a few pieces of luggage and a frown. Their eyes met and John's face turned a slight pink before he shifted his eyes away and walked into the apartment.

Tossing his phone on the couch, Sherlock followed John to his room where he placed his bags. Neither spoke for a few minutes, until John turned around and tried to pass Sherlock by the door. Sherlock flung his arm out blocking John's path, and they both stared at each other. John looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment and it made Sherlock ache to know that their relationship had become so tense.

"John?" he whispered, was he scared of John's response?

Yes.

"Please," John begged with his eyes strained. "Please, not now, Sherlock."

"But-" Sherlock protested.

John's eyes narrowed but softly and still begging, "Not now," he whispered before pushing Sherlock's arm, that had given up, out of the way.

He could hear John in the kitchen preparing tea and slowly closed John's door. He walked to the living room and picked up his phone. It had an unread message, but he didn't read it. Going to the closet, he pulled out his coat and scarf, which he dressed himself in before softly closing the door behind himself. Taking the stairs slowly, he exited the apartment and walked down the street.

Pulling out his phone, he read the message from Molly.

He is coming home, actually. Just, be gentle with him, Sherlock. He is not happy with himself at this moment.

Deleting the message, Sherlock continued down the street and inside a small coffee shop that he could honestly say he didn't care to look at the name, though if he tried, he could recite the name with ease by placing buildings. He ordered a small coffee with cream and sugar before staring out into the city. He watched people walk past the window holding hands, laughing, and smiling, and he felt irritation swell inside tht he couldn't be one of them.

Then he paused in thinking. Since when did he have feelings?

This was John's fault.

A waitress appeared beside him and set his coffee on a coaster before sliding away. Grabbing his cup, he took a sip and pulled back as it burned his tongue. Glaring at the cup, he wanted to put it to shame for not being perfect temperature.

But then it occurred to him that this was the first time he had, had coffee that John didn't make. Looking down at the cup, he twisted his fingers around it tightly and was about to shout in anger at the person who dared to sit across from him, until he saw it was John.

"Let's play pretend," John started.

Thanks for reading!

Sorry it took so long. I was watching Lord of the Rings for the first time... I still have to watch the 2nd and 3rd though...

Oh! I have school starting on Monday so... I dunno how this is going to work into that schedule, but I will try to.. But then I do need a job too...

ANYWHO

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-Courtney