Author's Note: This is a really short chapter - much shorter than before - but it is mainly a filler, as the real plot will *hopefully* kick in in chapter 4!
Thank you all for reading, following and reviewing this story! It really means a lot! ^_^ Again, I've updated this quite quickly but I probably won't be able to keep this up, as I will go back to college in a week.
Thank you to my supermegafoxyawesomehot beta Princess FunkWalk for helping me! She is wonderful and you should all go and read her stories as well!
Also, the cover picture is by elocinaqui on deviantart, and you should go check her out, as she is AMAZING! :D
Waking up, John's first thought was of the difficult day ahead of him. He went downstairs to find a vulnerable looking Sherlock curled up on the couch in his pyjamas and dressing gown. He felt a stab of something in his chest, but quickly dismissed it and went to make some tea as silently as possible. He was not quiet enough, though, as Sherlock turned around and gave John a dirty look. "You could try being quiet, John. It's not incredibly difficult, you know." John chose to ignore the jibe and instead offered his friend a cup of tea, almost kidding himself into thinking Sherlock could be easily guilt-tripped. It didn't work. Sherlock took the tea without thanks and sat on the sofa sulking. He knew what was going to come next.
"You have things you want to ask me." It wasn't a question so John didn't bother answering. "I can't tell you everything you want to know."
"Well you'll have to bloody well try! First things first, why did you fake-die?" John could see the internal conflict reflected in his friend's eyes. "I will find out somehow, Sherlock. I advise that you tell me so I don't have to go to Mycroft and get second hand information."
Sherlock sighed, "Must we really start with this question? It's so boring! Why not ask me how I faked my death? It's a more interesting story, and I am as incredible as usual, I can assure you."
"Okay!" John responded, slightly surprised at the shock forming on Sherlock's face, "How did you fake your suicide? How did you-" He cut off and finished in his head: how did you convince me that my whole world had fallen with you?
Sherlock seemed to get over John's change of tactics fairly quickly, but still seemed slightly bewildered as he spoke. "I ... uh ... A magician never tells!" John glared at the dark-haired man until he relented. Pulling himself together, he spoke again. "You're too slow, John! I realise that your abilities are nowhere near extraordinary, but the clues were all there. Work it out yourself!"
John's jaw tightened. All of a sudden he felt completely out of control. It was like he wasn't in his body. He felt himself jump forward at his friend, grabbing his arm tightly. Then Sherlock whimpered. This was a noise he had never heard coming from this seemingly supernatural man. It shocked John to his core. Coming to his senses, John let go. He uttered a quick apology, and ran away.
"What have I done?" John thought. "My best friend comes back, obviously battling some sort of addiction, and all I can do is shout and be violent! It wasn't justified – was it? Sherlock was incredibly frustrating... No! Mere annoyance is never a reason for violence." As if he needed any reminding. "I was in no danger; there was no reason for the assault. Sherlock still hasn't answered any of my questions, but that's no justification for abusing him. Maddening as these drugs are, they are no reason to hurt my best friend." All at once, John felt deflated. "Sherlock is too good for me. Everyone thinks so! Just look at yourself, John. You are a poor excuse for a man." He ran his hand through his hair and made his decision. "I should be healing Sherlock, not harming him. I am a doctor after all! There is nothing to do but help him recover and only request answers when he is truly ready for it."
Feeling confident with his decision, John hailed a taxi – he had managed to get remarkably far from home! He took his seat in the cab and went to put down his cane when he realised he hadn't brought it with him. He laughed at the irony. Even in his broken state, Sherlock had managed to cure John's limp. This calmed him slightly. It was a sign that things would soon be back to normal. Chuckling slightly, John paid the driver and headed up to 221B, rehearsing the apology he wouldn't get the chance to utter. When he got upstairs Sherlock was gone.
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter and, again, I apologise for it being so short, but it ends on a nice little cliff hanger! ;D
Please review and follow the story! It means so much to me. Thank you! ^_^
In case you haven't noticed, I haven't updated this story in ages. I have been so so so busy, and I don't want to have really slow updates, so I'm going to write the whole story and then I'll upload the chapters here. I have exams this summer, though, which I have to revise for, so I don't know when I'll be able to finish this. I hope you all don't mind! I promise I'll try to be as fast as I can! Thank you for understanding ^_^ x
