A/N: So this is the first official chapter! Its set 10 years after the Prequel, so please enjoy, and don't forget to drop us a review and tell us what you think!
-Vi and Livy
Chapter 1:
-10 Years Later -
John was awoken by the door to 221B Baker Street slamming shut, and heavy footsteps on the stairs. Yawning, he sat up and wearily rubbed his eyes. Sherlock was home.
As he went about making the bed and getting dressed, he could hear Sherlock in the kitchen, the kettle boiling, mugs clinking together. With a sigh, he checked his phone. One text, from Mary:
"Living like this is pointless. We need to come to a decision, and I have something very important to tell you. Call me when you get this, please. M x"
John tucked the phone in his pocket, licked his lips nervously, and left his room.
When he got to the lounge, Sherlock was pacing up and down, muttering to himself under his breath. He heard John enter and pointed to the table. "Coffee." John nodded a thanks and settled in his chair with a sigh. "You finish the case?"
He asked, reaching for the newspaper. "Yes, of course I finished the case, I wouldn't be back here if I hadn't."
"And? What was the result?"
"Well if you'd have come with me you would know, wouldn't you?" John looked up and saw Sherlock frowning at him from the desk.
"Don't be such a child, Sherlock, and tell me what happened."
Sherlock scowled and threw himself into the chair opposite John, grabbing an older newspaper and crossing one leg over the other. "I was right, it was the gardener and his wife. Lestrade took them down to the station earlier, I caught the first train back."
John rubbed his temples.
"Wife troubles?" Sherlock said, without looking up from the paper.
"Oh no. You are not doing this to me, not right now." John growled, sipping his coffee. Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Your ring is off, but the skin area is still pale, so I'm guessing it's only recently been taken off. Your phone is in your right pocket, and you repeatedly check the screen, but when you shut it off you seem to relax. Anxious for a message. You've also been staying over here more often than usual, as if you're not welcome in your own home," Sherlock said. "Need I go on?"
"I would have no problem denting those nice cheekbones of yours." He sipped more coffee to prevent himself from doing the aforementioned.
Sherlock rolled his eyes again and wandered over to his laptop. "If I found a case, you would join me, or are you too busy sulking over Mary?"
"Sherlock. I'm dead serious. Push me one more time. Do it. Please."
"It's not my fault your marriage is going downhill. Do you want a case or not?" Sherlock retorted, not looking up from his computer screen. John took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Find one that'll take a few days, at least." Sherlock smirked as John grabbed his phone.
"On a case. Might take a few days. I'll call you soon. JW x"
Sherlock frowned in confusion as John turned his phone off and drained the coffee from his mug. "Is that all Mary gets? A text?"
John scowled down at the newspaper in his hands. "It alright if I stay here for a week or so?"
"Of course, but John? You can't keep this up for much longer. Sleeping over here some nights and at your house for others, giving Mary brief texts and phone calls, hunting for cases purely to avoid her. It's not a marriage, John-"
"Oh shut up, Sherlock, you're the not one to lecture about relationships, considering you've never had one!" Sherlock pressed his lips together in a thin line.
"I had Janine." Sherlock said after a considerable amount of thought.
"For Christ's sake, you were going to marry her for a lead!"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It was necessary at the time."
"You know, you really live up to the whole sociopath thing." John snapped.
"I just want to know why." Sherlock said, his brow furrowing. "You have a beautiful wife that adores you, and yet you ignore her, avoid her, and are so obscenely against spending any time with her at all." He said, questioningly. "There is absolutely no reason why. So do explain to me, John."
"Oh, finally, something you can't answer yourself." John snarled. "You wouldn't get it. You don't fall in love, Sherlock. You'd never understand."
For some reason, the comment made Sherlock feel a pang of emotion, but this time it was sadness. Has he actually hurt me? Sherlock wondered. He wasn't familiar with the emotion and it struck him rather oddly.
"Fine. Ignore your wife. Avoid her. See where it gets you." Sherlock snapped back, surprising John. It was strange of Sherlock to show emotions of any kind. John must've really pissed him off.
John sighed. "I'm sorry. Look, I appreciate your concern, but right now the only thing I want to do is work. Please."
Sherlock rocked back on his chair and studied John for a moment. His well-kept hair and best clothes told outsiders he was doing just fine. However, there were small wrinkles around his eyes and sometimes his hands shook slightly. His eyes darted nervously around the room, as if he was always on edge. And he barely smiled anymore. Sherlock felt...was it sadness? He didn't like seeing John like this. It bothered him.
"Alright," Sherlock agreed, leaning towards the computer screen. "I have an email from three young adults, asking for help recovering seven items of great importance. Claim the world will suffer horrendously if they fail."
John pursed his lips. "What do you reckon? Sounds like our thing?"
Sherlock looked over at him and grinned. "Isn't that all we ever do?"
