CHAPTER 7. COLD

Jeremy tried not to make eye contact with too many of these constables; he kept his head down, hoping they'd all stop staring. It was actually making him feel uncomfortable. Did "John" know the names of any of these men and women? Where they expecting him to say something that "John" would, and if so what would he/John say?

The startled faces made Jeremy consider this whole mad scheme a mistake. Why was he even here? How did he allow himself to be dragged into this situation? He didn't know anything about crime scenes. John might have but he wasn't John, he was Jeremy Underhill. Well at least he thought he was? What happened to Jeremy if John survived instead?

"John, shut up." Sherlock didn't look up from his mobile.

"What?" Jeremy flinched at the harsh tone.

"You're thinking too loud." As a matter of fact.

"I'm what?"

"Thinking too loud. It's unfortunate that this Doctor Underhill didn't survive the accident. However there is nothing to gain in dwelling on the issue. As for John Watson, he was a well loved and respected as a friend and colleague. You can think what you want, but YOU are John Watson. The memory will return. As you can see by the shocked faces you have many friends. You will remember their names in time. And no one will demand anything more from you. However you will expect too much from yourself. After all that is the kind of man you are. " Sherlock shook his head frowning at his mobile; he then turned to meet the confusion of his friend.

"How do you know?" Jeremy's voice was low almost a whisper.

"Because John, I know you. Now let's put this sentiment behind us, Dimmock is in over his head. This shouldn't take long to figure out."

"What did John-I mean what do I do? What's my role in all of this?"

"You're the Doctor, you confirm my findings, and sometimes supply much needed medical insight." Sherlock was striding past more stunned looking constables, some removed their hats, but no one said anything. Jeremy wished they would, he wished someone would speak. At the same time he dreaded any awkward conversations.

The duo hurried up the dimly lit stairwell, several officers were milling around a door way just at the top of the stairwell. The old abandoned building looked ready to collapse in on itself, the steps creaked loudly under Jeremy's and Sherlock's feet. The Consulting Detective didn't notice or didn't care; Jeremy couldn't understand the sudden feeling of exasperation.

"Watch your step Sherlock, the stairs definitely are not up to code." Just as the words left Jeremy's mouth the dark haired detective nearly lost his footing due to a weak bored, his foot had gone straight through. Out of instinct the Doctor steadied his friend.

"John watch your step these stairs are a death trap." Sherlock straightened himself and stepping over the splintered wood.

Jeremy made a face once they entered the room, there was the body of a young man mid twenties, blood already dried in a large puddle around the victim. It was a relief to the blond Doctor that the person/body was face down. He could only imagine what the deceased had suffered. Somehow it would have been harder if Jeremy could see the man's face.

He wondered if John had ever been affected by the gruesome sights he most likely came into contact with.

"Naturally." The consulting detective perhaps a mind reader answered Jeremy's question in the same casual manner one would tell the time.

"Well?" Dimmock half glanced at the dark haired detective. "What do you think?"

"I think you work with idiots that carelessly trampled my crime scene." Sherlock snapped.

"Yeah, alright. Alright. I'm not in the mood to argue, today is supposed to be my day off and Lestrade had to go and nearly get himself killed."

"Ah, you shouldn't be so eager; she's not interested in you. She only wants to make her ex boyfriend jealous."

"How the hell-" Dimmock stopped there, as if resigning himself to the statement, then moving on. "It doesn't matter. Just look at this and give me something. Anything, please." Jeremy hung back, he was unsure as to what he was expected to do. Obviously the person was dead.

"Doctor if you would." Jeremy stepped around the young DI who was frowning down at the body like it were a puzzle he couldn't solve. For all intensive purposes it was. Jeremy leaned in, his eyes scanning the figure sprawled out on his belly.

"Have you gone to visit Lestrade?" Dimmock ignored the blond companion that Sherlock had brought with him.

"Yes. I did stop in to reprimand him for being so careless."

"Well, I heard you caught the bastard. I can't say I was too sorry to hear the suspect was injured."

"It was unfortunate, but these things happen." Sherlock watched John, he could read the confusion, why wasn't this working? What else could he do to get the man to snap out of it. John wasn't this, this unsure, unadventurous country doctor. God, if John had been dead, he really would be turning over in his grave. A country Doctor indeed.

"Well, blunt force trauma to the head, I'd say it was a handle, maybe an ax handle, or something thin and heavy. It was hard enough to break the man's neck." John offered this information like a pupil uncertain of the answer his professor wanted.

"Right." Sherlock sighed; turning to Dimmock was still not paying any attention to the Doctor, no surprise. The man was eager to get back to his date, Sherlock had tried to warn him, and of course the young DI wouldn't listen.

The good Doctor stood back now as the tall dark haired detective started to waltz around the body, then the room. He was spouting off information as if it were written on the walls and floor. When he was finished Jeremy couldn't help but express his surprise.

"That was brilliant."

"So you've said before." Sherlock smiled proudly, then just as quickly returned to his normal bored expression.

"Doctor, please don't fan the flames of his ego. He's hard enough to live-" Sherlock watched the color drain from Dimmock. Predictable.

"Doctor?" The stunned DI asked the question he couldn't believe the answer to.

"Uh, sorry-" Doctor Underhill started,

"Wait-what?" The DI still hadn't regained color.

"Maybe you should just sit down, you're looking-" Jeremy was cut off.

"Leave him John, he'll be fine. Just a bit of shock. Right Dimmock? It's not like you haven't seen someone come back from the dead before." The younger DI grimaced, his jaw set.

"This isn't a joke. Where the hell have you been?" Dimmock seemed genuinely angry. "You know what I don't want to know." He glared at John, "I hope you two are done with the disappearing acts, because next time I'm going to demand to see a body!" The young DI stormed out of the room, shouting for the forensics team to go ahead.

"Well that was a bit of a surprise." Sherlock said this in genuine disbelief. "I thought for sure he would faint. I underestimated his fondness for you. He obviously feels betrayed."

"Wait-" Jeremy tried to keep up with the turn of events.

"No matter, all will be resolved. Come along Doctor we have a murder weapon to find, it should be at least four blocks over, wrapped in newspaper and thrown into a skip."

"I wont ask how you knows this."
"Good, I hate to explain myself."

~0~

Mycroft studied his brother's companion in disbelief, however the facial recognition program was rarely ever wrong. This was John Watson, back from the dead. First a wave of relief then one of irritation, how had this happened?

Someone obviously had made an error, one that Mycroft would hold them accountable for.

Unfortunately there was the matter of his brother dragging an amnesiac around; Sherlock was out of his depth. The older Holmes had already tried several times to contact his brother through text, but the stubborn man refused to answer.

The British Government had first set his men out to follow the man he thought to be a doppelganger of his-

No.

Sherlock's friend.

The blond man had dodged the black car before the security team could bring him in. This wouldn't happen again, Mycroft wanted answers.

The older Holmes called for his car, it had been too long since he'd kidnapped the Doctor. Of course kidnap was what John called it. Mycroft thought of it more as two associates having a meeting and touching base.