Chapter Twelve

John was avoiding him.

Granted, Sherlock had expected this to be the case, at least for a few days. There was no way that John would easily decide to contact him first. The werewolf would want to keep his distance, undoubtedly still harbouring the feelings of anger that had caused him to lash out in the first place. It was for this reason that Sherlock made no effort to contact John in the first three days after the full moon. John was hard enough to contact after a full moon anyway, because of the time he spent recovering. To try to contact the werewolf while he was still angry on top of the exhaustion would be a waste of valuable time that Sherlock could be spending doing other things, like experimenting or solving cases or tracking a hunter that was moving closer and closer to London.

After three days, however, Sherlock decided it was time to break the silence. If he saw John now, it was entirely possible that the werewolf would refuse to have a conversation, but seeing John would still be a step up from the complete lack of contact. It was impossible to tell when it was that it began to feel so abnormal to not see John, but it seemed that that was now the case, and Sherlock chose not to think too hard on that matter.

The morning of the fourth day after the full moon, Sherlock waited at the entryway to the Tube station. When John failed to come by in the morning, Sherlock made sure to be there at the usual time in the afternoon, but John either did not leave his flat that day or he simply chose a mode of transport other than the Tube. The latter case seemed more likely, because John would not want to take more time off work than was absolutely necessary. More than likely, the werewolf had decided to take a cab to work instead. The following day, then, Sherlock decided he would go by John's flat instead, so that he could catch him before he left for work.

Unfortunately, John was either prepared to go out of his way to avoid Sherlock, or he had become an early riser. When Sherlock arrived at John's flat, he found that the werewolf had already left. Sherlock had only missed him by a matter of minutes, judging by the strength of John's scent on the doorstep, so it was entirely possible that John had just happened to be up earlier than usual. However, the next morning confirmed Sherlock's theory that John was intentionally avoiding him – when Sherlock turned up again, a good ten minutes earlier, he found that John had prepared for that and had left earlier still. John was becoming used to Sherlock's tendencies, and he was going out of his way to keep his distance.

The next logical step, obviously, was to try to meet John on an afternoon instead. The werewolf could leave at impossibly early hours of the morning if he so chose, but he would have to come home sooner or later. John would have to see Sherlock, if Sherlock waited outside his flat long enough. So, come five o'clock, the vampire made sure to be outside John's front door, passing his time searching the internet on his phone while he waited for John to come home.

Two and a half hours later, Sherlock had read upon several topics, including patterns of blood splatters, werewolf mythology, and obscure uses for paper clips, and there was still no sign of John.

There were several possible explanations as to why John was not home yet. He could have picked up an extended shift at work, or simply could be running overtime. He could have had errands to run, or he could have run into a particularly talkative friend, or been held up in some other way. However, it was also possible that something had happened to John, and there could have very well been reason to worry. Sherlock and Mycroft were not the only vampires in London, and if Sherlock had managed to get to John's neck with ease only a few days earlier, it was entirely possible that another vampire could do the same, only in a much more serious setting. That, and there was the hunter that Sherlock predicted to arrive in London within a fortnight. The vampire had not expected him to come this early, but there was the (very unlikely) chance that he had been wrong.

Sherlock pushed the thoughts out of his mind, pushing off John's door. Listing the worst possible case scenarios in his head would not do any good. What would do some good would be finding John and ensuring that he was safe.

OoO

The fact that John had caught a cab to work, while convenient for the werewolf, was incredibly inconvenient for Sherlock. If John had walked to work, his scent would have left a trail that would have been easy enough to follow, but instead, there would be virtually no scent lingering in between where John entered the cab (that was, in front of John's flat) and where John had gotten out. However, Sherlock had solved cases of abduction and kidnapping of humans, whose scents were significantly less identifiable than John's, so this inconvenience would not be enough to cause Sherlock to fail in his mission. He just needed to use a slightly different strategy.

He started by catching a cab himself, telling the driver to drop him off outside the nearest clinic. Sherlock had never bothered to find out what clinic John worked at – it was a mostly irrelevant piece of information that would fill up space that could be used for more interesting facts – so it came as a relief to discover that the nearest clinic was, in fact, the clinic that John worked at. The lights were off inside the building, and Sherlock could not hear any sounds of movement inside. John had been there today – of that, Sherlock was certain – but he had left at least a couple of hours ago.

This time, there was a scent trail for Sherlock to follow, at least for a short while. Inhaling through his nose, Sherlock followed the smell past the building, coming to a stop in the car park out the back. This was where the scent trail ended again. Obviously, John had not gotten into his own car there – if the man could drive, there was no way he would be taking cabs or the Tube. There were no signs of struggle, nothing to suggest that John had not entered a vehicle here unwillingly, but this did not settle the twisted sensation in Sherlock's stomach. Even if John had been offered a ride home by one of his co-workers, why was he not yet home?

The answer was obvious. John had not been offered a ride back to his own home. John had gone back to someone else's home.

This thought was punctuated by the vibration of Sherlock's phone in his pocket. He fished it out and turned it on, making a face at the name that appeared on the screen.

I gather you have worked out
where our dear doctor is this
evening.
M

Sherlock swivelled around on the spot, locating the security camera that looked down onto the car park, and he made sure to shoot it a glare. His phone vibrated a second time only a matter of seconds afterwards.

He went home this afternoon
with Sarah Sawyer, his
manager. He has not yet left
her house.
M

You accuse me of caring for
him, and yet you're the one
spying. What does that say
about you?
SH

I only looked into the footage
when you decided to venture out
in search of your werewolf. I'd
much rather you use your time
more productively.
M

By which you mean you would
much rather I spend my time
investigating your hunter.
SH

I need not remind you that this
hunter affects both of us, when
he arrives. Go home, Sherlock.
We both know you're wasting
your time here.
M

Don't tell me what to do.
SH

Really, Sherlock, you could at
least attempt to be mature
from time to time. I have just
saved you from investigating
a non-existent case of
abduction.
M

Sherlock turned back to the security camera only to make an obscene gesture, and he made a show of shoving his phone back into his pocket rather than replying to the text. He chose to wander through the streets for the rest of the night rather than going home, just to spite his brother. Mycroft, thankfully, left him alone, except for one text sometime after ten o'clock.

The lights have gone out.
M

OoO

The following day brought with it a case that held Sherlock's attention for most of the day, keeping him busy. At least, that seemed to be what had happened. In truth, he had chosen to take the case only because he wanted something to keep him busy, and although he had solved it within the first two hours, he made sure to drag the investigation on for longer. It was a simple enough case, after all – it was not a case of a serial killer who was going to act again if they did not solve the case quickly. Of course, Lestrade still made sure to lecture him on withholding information when he discovered that Sherlock had known the answer all along.

Rather than heading straight back to Baker Street, Sherlock had the cab driver drop him off near the Tube station. He had no way of knowing whether or not John would have taken the Tube or a cab that day, or if he would have gone back to Sarah Sawyer's home again, but it appeared that the vampire was in luck. The station held the familiar smell of werewolf, strong enough to suggest that it was only a matter of minutes since John had been there.

Weaving through the crowd of people, Sherlock followed John's scent for only a matter of minutes before he managed to catch sight of the man. He could see the werewolf walking a little way ahead, still limping and still leaning too heavily on his cane. He did not look like he had spent the night in a comfortable bed – instead, the stiffness of his back suggested a sofa or a lilo. That was interesting – it implied that John had not gone home with Ms Sawyer for any purpose other than having somewhere to spend the night that was not his own bedsit.

Rather than closing the distance between them, Sherlock remained a small distance behind, following silently. It reminded him of the first time he had spoken to John, several months ago – he remembered following the werewolf home, amused by the way John kept glancing warily over his shoulder, undoubtedly aware that he was being followed but yet dismissing it all too easily as nothing but a figment of his imagination.

This time, however, John did not make the same mistake. Once again, he seemed to notice that he was being followed, but this time, he did not look around with that same lost, concerned expression on his face. This time, he came to a stop on an otherwise empty street, and he did not turn around or give Sherlock the opportunity to duck out of his line of sight.

"I know you're following me."

Sherlock let his lips pull upwards at the corners, and he took a few more steps to close the distance between the two of them. "What gave me away this time," he said, "my smell or the prickling sensation on the back of your neck?"

"Both," John replied without looking at him, "and the fact that I figured you'd start stalking me sooner or later."

Sherlock let out a low chuckle. "And yet you've been avoiding me."

"Yep." John started walking again, forcing Sherlock to do the same to keep up. "Which I'm going to keep doing."

"You're clearly wasting your time. You can't keep avoiding me."

"Watch me."

"Really, John, you're being completely irrational, doing all of this because of a little bit of guilt-"

"Guilt?" John repeated incredulously, looking over and making eye contact for only a fraction of a second before he turned away again. "Believe me, I do not feel guilty. You deserved it."

"Then it's embarrassment because you lost a fight, which still makes this completely irrational."

"Or maybe, just maybe, I've decided I really do not need you in my life anymore."

"Why? " Sherlock raised his eyebrows and took another quick step so that he was almost in front of John. "Because I was right? Because I beat you? Because I-"

"Because you don't care, Sherlock." They had reached the front of John's flat now, and the werewolf turned around, finally meeting his gaze. "Because you completely disregard anyone else's thoughts or feelings and only think of yourself. You knew I wouldn't want you to be there during the full moon, and there was no reason for you to be there, but the only thing you thought about was what you wanted. You knew how to piss me off afterwards and you didn't even think about how I was feeling."

"Oh, come on," Sherlock said. "You enjoy it. You enjoy having me around, having someone to talk to openly. A part of you even enjoyed fighting with me. You aren't going to just decide to-"

"No, I am. I'm done. With – with whatever the hell this is," – John made a vague gesture to the space in between them – "I'm done. Go find some other bloody game to play, because I'm not your experiment anymore."

"John-"

"Don't, okay? Just piss off and leave me alone."

John turned and disappeared into the building without giving Sherlock the chance to respond, punctuating the sentence with a firm slam of the door, and Sherlock had no choice but to do as John said.