Dear John, I see it all now that you're gone.
Don't you think I was too young
To be messed with?
The girl in the dress
Cried the whole way home
As the next few days past Sherlock began to realise that John was happy with Mary. He wouldn't be coming back to him. John had rang him a lot. Twice a day at least. The calls were always brief and Sherlock started to answer them less and less. No point in him getting in the way now, Sherlock thought. He knew he should have told John how he felt but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Now it was too late. John wasn't gay, he was straight so what would the point have been anyway?
He hadn't had a case for a few days now so he was incredibly bored. He wanted something to occupy his mind. He wanted to stop thinking about John and the dreaded emotions. He needed a distraction, but there was no case, yet. He started to play his violin again but the music was sad and he was distracted. He didn't realise how much time had gone by until Mrs Hudson came in.
"Lovely tunes Sherlock." She complemented him.
Sherlock carefully laid the violin down and looked at Mrs Hudson.
"I've just been shopping."
"I know." Sherlock replied. Mrs Hudson had a habit of stating the obvious. She was stood in the doorway holding shopping bags.
She went into the kitchen and started to unpack the things.
"How's John?" Mrs Hudson asked.
"How should I know." Sherlock replied curtly.
"Well, he called me a couple of days ago but he's been ringing you everyday hasn't he?"
"Yes." Sherlock nodded.
Mrs Hudson carried on, "Did he say how it was all going?"
"He said it was good."
"Ok. Did he ask about you or...anything?" Mrs Hudson enquired.
"Why would he?"
Mrs Hudson was losing her patience. She had been worried about the consulting detective since John had moved out. She could tell that Sherlock missed him no matter how hard he tried to cover it.
"He's your friend, Sherlock. He's concerned about you!" She said sternly.
"He asked how I was doing and that was it. Happy now?" Sherlock crossed his arms and glared at the old lady. Mrs Hudson, however, was unfazed by this.
"Ok. Just wondering. Your foods all put away so you shouldn't starve. Please eat it please. I don't go shopping for you for the good of my health you know. Also try and go outside. It's not healthy for you in here all the time you know." Mrs Hudson lectured him.
Although he would never admit it, Sherlock thought of Mrs Hudson as more of a mother to him than his actual mum. He would never tell her but he liked her around.
"I'm fine."
"Course you are." Mrs Hudson sighed and walked out of the room.
Xxxxxxxx
His phone rang again. Probably John he thought. He glanced over at the screen and he was correct, John was calling. He didn't want to answer it. He didn't think he could bare to talk to John at the moment so he just left it.
When the phone stopped its annoying ringing the flat was silent again. Until the phone started ringing again. Then it stopped. But then it rang again. In total the phone rang six times. Sherlock was sure it was just John ringing again until Lestrade was running through the door into the flat.
"Answer your bloody phone!" Lestrade shouted.
Sherlock leaned over and looked at the phone.
1 missed call. From John.
5 missed calls. From Lestrade
"Is there a case?" Sherlock asked immediately.
"Yes-" Lestrade started but Sherlock cut him off.
"Is it interesting?"
"-ummm...murder. Marylebone Road."
"You go. I'll get a cab." Sherlock waved him away with his hand.
"Thank you." Lestrade said then ran out of the door.
Sherlock was getting his coat and scarf on when he realised that John wouldn't be with him. He felt something in the pit of his stomach. Sadness? Grief?
Heading out of the door he brushed all emotion from his face and hailed a taxi.
xxxxxxxxxx
The crime scene was an old and slightly run down flat on Marylebone Road. Exiting the taxi gracefully Sherlock began to walk over to the crowded scene with his usual flair.
"Where's your pet freak?" He heard Sgt. Donovan shout but he ignored it. He wasn't in the mood for the arguing.
"Did he finally see sense and leave?" He then heard Anderson shout.
Turning around with his coat swirling around him he strode towards them. "I see your wife finally left you then. I'd congratulate her."
He saw Anderson's face go pale and he smirked and carried on towards the scene. Anderson was left dumbfounded stood still on the spot.
The consulting detective waltzed over to the dead body on the floor before him. The flat was grotty and was bare of furniture and decoration. It was small and seemed barely big enough to live in. The victim was 34 years old and had bruising all across her face. There was no visible wound in her body. Sherlock started to deduce. However his mind flashed back to his first case with John.
"She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married."
"That's brilliant!"
"Her coat: it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but it's dry and unused: not just wind, strong wind – too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance but she can't have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff."
"That's fantastic!"
"Do you know you do that out loud?"
"Sorry. I'll shut up."
"No...it's fine."
"Sherlock?" Lestrade shook his shoulder, "you ok? You seemed to be gone for a moment there."
Sherlock shook his head, "yeah...yeah I'm fine."
He turned back around to look at the crime scene but he just couldn't deduce properly.
"You know you look a little peaky. Maybe you should go home." Lestrade suggested.
"No. I'm fine!" Sherlock said stubbornly.
"Your going home. It's not negotiable."
"I am fine!"
"No your not! Believe it or not but I do care about you!" Lestrade knew something was wrong with Sherlock.
Sherlock glared at him.
"I'm sure we can manage without you for once." Lestrade started to lead Sherlock to the main road to get a taxi.
Sherlock snorted at this, "you wont!"
Lestrade decided to ignore the detectives last comment.
"Is everything ok? You know with John moving out?"
"Yes why wouldn't it be!" Sherlock was annoyed. He had these questions enough off of Mrs Hudson.
"Ok, ok. No need to bite my head off!" Lestrade put his hands up in a mock gesture.
"Just...oh it doesn't matter...you won't listen anyway...just don't do anything stupid yeah?" He said and then walked off.
Sherlock was left in the pavement wondering what Lestrade considered 'stupid'.
Well...there it is. Hoped you all like it! I seriously can't believe the response I have gotten for this story! It's amazing how many people have sent me messages about this! Thank you!