Chapter 4

When John came home that night, he found his flatmate and lover conducting experiments on the kitchen table. Part of him wanted to shout at Sherlock. Why the hell had he run off again without telling him?

Had he forgotten about visiting Sally? He had seemed relieved when he had gotten Anthea´s texts that Sally was slowly waking up.

And yet-

Maybe Sherlock just needed some time, John told himself. After all these two had faced together, maybe he needed to order his thoughts, go to his mind palace, organize the data, or something like that. And his feelings, with regard to his new more intimate relationship with John, which to Sherlock were still new in many aspects.

Yet, that also brought him to John´s fear that Sherlock was running away. Maybe he was scared to face Sally? It would be understandable, but no solution, no matter how much Sherlock believed this. He told himself he would find out. Gently.

And then he would carefully make sure that Sherlock wouldn´t run away.

Walking over to the kitchen table he watched his friend playing with his tubes and Bunsen burners for a while. Sherlock seemed totally emerged in his work, and yet John could tell that Sherlock had realised that he was in the room with him.

"Sally missed you, you know?" he announced, but the brown haired man didn´t answer. " She wants to see you. And I think you should go and visit her soon. She´ll be out of the hospital tomorrow and then she´ll stay with Mycroft´s."

Nothing. Not even a raised eye brow. Or a huff.

"Sherlock!" he grumbled now, louder this time which made the consulting detective stop in his tracks and look at him.

"John, I don´t have time for sentiment at the moment. You should go to bed already, I need to finish with these important experiments." With that he rushed into his room, where, John followed. He was apparently searching for another concoction or whatever he needed for the experiment as he was rifling through boxes of different sizes, muttering something to himself.

John tried to talk to him one more time and told him he´d be there if Sherlock needed to talk, but as Sherlock ignored him again, he decided to go to bed.

Maybe he really needed time. At least he hoped so. Sherlock hadn´t talked much after they had found them, but he had refused to leave Donovan´s side the first day she had been unconscious and fallen asleep in John´s arms on the spare bed in Sally´s room. A few hours later he had done the exact opposite and couldn´t seem to get to Baker Street fast enough "to go back to work" as he said. Physically Sherlock was fine, he had been a little dehydrated due to the drug and had a few bumps and bruises, including the wound on the arm where they had taken the tracker out, but John was sure his mind wasn´t. It wasn´t even hard to tell as Sherlock simply seemed to behave oddly.

Trauma did that to people and no matter how great the mind was, it could always be hurt. Even if Sherlock insisted otherwise.

That night John waited for Sherlock in his bed but he didn´t come. So he worried instead and listened to his boyfriend wandering around and conducting experiments in their living room. Last night Sherlock had at least come into bed to lie down with him for a few hours, though he hadn´t slept much. Then some time when John had been asleep, he had gotten up again to pay Sally a nightly visit at the hospital, as John had heard today.

Only to not actually visit her when she finally was awake, after being unconscious for two days. It was odd.

Sherlock was odd.

Well, odder than normal.

He had been glad that Sherlock finally had found another friend, even if it had been really weird that it had been Donovan. Hell, he had been a little jealous at first. But that had gone away once Sherlock had become his boyfriend. Which strangely had also been Sally´s fault.

Sometime in early November...

It had been a long day at clinic. The flu period was upon them again which meant many patients and often agitated ones at that. John had been exhausted and therefore only slowly walked up the stairs to the flat. Looking forward towards some warm tea and a quiet evening in front of the telly he had heard Sally and Sherlock laughing from downstairs already. So Sally must have come to say hello after her shift, he thought, and was glad she had as it meant 2 hours less of boredom for Sherlock. Which were actually two hours less of him getting strange ideas, that often ended up in damaging the flat in some way. John was about to go through half-open door as he noticed a change in the atmosphere of the conversation. Sally and Sherlock were talking quietly now, obviously not fooling around and he couldn´t help but listen in.

"Yeah, but that doesn´t change anything, Sherlock. The feelings don't go away like that. I get you are scared, but why don´t you try and make a move?John feels the same, I swear."

He felt what? Wait a second.

A snort from Sherlock. "I told you I´m married to my work, I don´t have time for such things."

Sally laughed at that."No, you are scared. Be honest, being together with John scares you more than any criminal could ever do."

"I don´t see why you can´t comprehend that there is no appeal in relationships for me. I´m..."

A sound of glass. Sherlock tampering with stuff on the kitchen table again, John supposed.

"Bullshit." Sally intercepted, much louder now. " You do well in relationships already. Don´t look at me like that. It´s not just you and John. You have friends, Sherlock, more than you think you have and you enjoy that. Don´t pretend otherwise. So listen to one of them and go and simply kiss John. It will make life better, believe me."

"My life is already..."

"If you are going to say that your life is already good the way it is, than I´ll promise you I´ll make you sit through Anderson´s next forensic course at university."

John nearly laughed at that, imagining Sherlock´s face hearing that. Knowing Sally, she would find a way to do that, even if she had to cuff Sherlock and lock him up in the teaching room for that.

"Maybe you should go and let me work in peace." Sherlock was grumpy now and John decided it was the time to make himself known. He went down the steps again, opened the front door to let it fall close loudly, all the while calling. "Sherlock? You home? How about take away?" as he was going up. He also feigned surprise at seeing Donovan which strangely worked. Since they were still so caught up in their argument no one seemed to notice.

They had ordered Indian takeaway that evening and Sally had stayed for few hours longer to chit chat and tell hilarious stories from crime scenes. All the while John´s thoughts had been racing inside his head. Was Sally actually right and Sherlock was feeling that way for him? Or was she just imagining it? But maybe she was right, maybe one of them needed to make a step so that they could at least talk about it?

One day later when he came home from the clinic he had decided Sally was right and had done it. Without much preamble he had walked up to Sherlock as he arrived home and kissed him. For a second the consulting detective had seemed stunned but then kissed back. As they needed to breath again he had simply asked: "So you heard Sally yesterday?" And they had kissed again. It had been weird how simple it was.

Sherlock had even sent Sally an SMS soon thereafter and she apparently had shouted "Yes!" just as Anderson had describes how the eyes of a victim had been gauged out with a spoon, as Lestrade had told later. Well, she would never live that one down and John was still laughing about it. Especially since she always used to taunt them for laughing at crime scenes.

But all in all the kiss had been the start of a great relationship. At first Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, Sally, Lestrade, and a bit later Harry and Molly, had been the only ones who knew, but John could understand that and didn´t mind.

Especially since it had turned out that Sherlock liked to kiss. A lot. But only behind closed doors, which John had suspected as he had been raised like that with parents in the MI6.

But he was fine with that. Really.

Then Moran had appeared in the picture again and Sherlock had become even more careful. It had been eerie to see him like that. Sherlock never had been scared of anyone, but of this man he seemed to be and John had tried to talk to him about it. But neither he nor Sally could get out of him what had happened in Italy before the explosion. He had gradually calmed down a bit after a few days, but now?

Now he wasn´t talking at all. And he was distant and seemed to become more and more so. Come to think of it, he had let John give him kisses and hugs but except for the night directly after they had freed them, Sherlock hadn´t initiated any physical contact since yesterday. That thought made John worry even more.

He had talked with Mycroft this afternoon; he had said that it might be good to give Sherlock some space. "He is used to dealing with problems alone , John. Wait a few days, then try again. The more you corner him, the harder he will repel you. Trust me, I know." And that had been that. So John had tried to talk to him tonight and gone to bed, but it wasn´t easy.

Exhausted he finally fell asleep close to 4 in the morning, and for once stopped actively worrying . He had been tired as hell, as he had been awake most of the two previous nights.

When daylight woke him about 6 hours later, it was all silent in 221b. Wordlessly praying, John was hoping Sherlock had simply fallen asleep, but of course reality in the form of a notice on the kitchen table told him to not assume things like that.

"Good morning John. Have gone to Brighton for a few days. An interesting new case. Mycroft will probably be able to fill you in as he is in no doubt meddling again. Will be back soon. Love, Sherlock."

Good morning? Love? There was nothing good about this morning!

"Bastard." John cursed, although he knew said man was probably not doing it on purpose.

But being left behind hurt, damn it.

#

It was already late in the afternoon when Sally entered Mycroft´s house. Again it had been Anthea who came to get her, which made her a bit weary. She had seen Mycroft three times since the kidnapping now and could tell something was off, no matter how many times Anthea told her there wasn´t.

"He´s really busy at the moment, Sally. The crisis in the middle east is taking up his time and he postponed some meetings when you were gone. Give him a chance, will you? He´ll be here any minute now." Anthea had pleaded and Sally had nodded. Of course she would.

She loved him. This was something that had made itself know even more deeply when she had been in hospital. As surprising as it was, she loved the damn git and she wouldn´t let Moran destroy that, or the relationship to his little brother whom she had become to love in a different way.

If someone asked Sally, she was close to describing it how woman sometimes talked of love in the schmoopy movies. But it felt right. Her together with Mycroft. Her being friends with Sherlock and slowly becoming friends with John and Anthea, it felt like it was supposed to be. And yes Sally knew how bonkers that sounded but for first time in her life Sally felt like she was at the right place in her world and she would fight for it, damn it.

It took two minutes until Mycroft entered the room. Apparently his car had been right behind them and Sally was grateful to see him. It felt even better to fall in his arms and just sit close together and that´s what they did for a few minutes.

"Do you feel any better?" Mycroft enquired and Sally nodded.

"I´m okay. It´ll heal Mycroft." She smiled at him. "The only thing that bothers me is, that Sherlock is running away from me. I don´t blame him, Myc. Hell, I would have done the same if roles were reversed. Maybe you can poke him a bit? I´ve tried phoning him,but the number I have is dead. Maybe I should go to Baker Street tonight? He can´t run away then, if I check with John before and..."

A long sigh made her stop. "That wouldn´t be of any use, Sally. As of this morning Sherlock has travelled to Brighton."

"What? But I reached John at Baker Street. What the...?" She didn´t get any further as Mycroft was answering already.

"Sherlock has left without John, I´m afraid."

That made Sally groan. "Oh the idiot. Running away. Of course." She shook her head. "Damn it."

Mycroft didn't answer to that but it looked like he agreed.

Taking a deep breath she continued. "Well he can´t run forever. Maybe he really needs a few days." She suspected that she was really try to convince herself of this, but whatever.

Mycroft still didn't seem to know what to say to that and so he simply held her, but that was fine with Sally for the moment. She was glad that they had made it. They´d sort the rest out later.

The moment lasted only a few seconds as Mycroft´s phone started to ring. With an apologizing look at Sally he took the phone and answered it.

"Holmes. Yes... no. Hm... Right. Okay I´ll be right there."

That caused Sally to groan once more. Of course. They had had exactly 27 minutes before Mycroft´s work had called again.

"I´m sorry Sal. The crisis in the east is getting closer to being resolved but without me..."

Sally held up her hand, which effectively stopped him.

"I know. And it´s okay. Well, it´s not cause I´d love you to be here and would simply like to forget life and the damn world for a little while. But that´s not a luxury we get, I guess." She sighed and gave Mycroft a long kiss, before he got up and left the room.

And there she was, once alone again, contemplating. As much as it pained her to admit: Things were awkward between them now and his absence wasn´t helping.

And yet she shouldn't have been surprised after everything that happened, should she?

It took only two minutes for Anthea to re-enter the room. Sally had considered going to Baker Street to talk with John, but Anthea wasn´t happy with that.

"You are supposed to rest. You can see John tomorrow, okay? But today just stay here and take a deep breath. You´ve just come out of the hospital for god´s sake."

Sally grumbled a bit and was just about to object but Anthea wouldn´t have any of it. "God, you are worse than Mycroft. Believe me, I cuffed him to his bed once, so there is no way around this." She warned and they both laughed at this. Cause Mycroft cuffed to bed? That must have been one hell of a sight.

"Okay, okay, I´ll stay here." She finally agreed and Anthea smiled.

"Good. Now how about we play a round of chess? You´ve started recently with Mycroft, haven´t you? I can teach you a few tricks even he doesn´t know."

And that was how the early evening went. It was only 3 hours later as Sally´s own phone started ringing that their chess adventures were brought to an abrupt end.

Taking her phone Sally wondered why Anderson was calling her at this time of the day and picked up.

"Sally?" Came the voice of her colleague and she immediately could tell something was off. "Sally switch on the TV. BBC. Now." He commanded, voice agitated, and Sally hurried into the living room to do so.

Once the TV was on though, she nearly lost her footing.

That was Sherlock on the BBC News.

Sherlock.

Live on TV, stabbing Moran over and over again.

"...alleged consulting detective Sherlock Holmes is shown in the footage, stabbing a man. From the likes of it we are looking at a murder charge here, Sandra." The reporter told the news anchor and Sally watched in true horror as they talked more about the video, which apparently had arrived on the desk of an reporter this afternoon.

"Damn it, motherfucking damn it." Sally couldn´t stop cursing as she tried to make sense how anyone could have gotten that footage.

Just when you thought it couldn´t get any worse...