Four Thursdays John Would Never Forget

Chp 14

Mary Morston was born to an average middle class family. She grew up in an average town and went to an average school. She even looked average with her dull brown hair and hazel eyes. No, never in Mary's short life had she felt anything other than average. In fact she was so average that Sherlock had deleted her several times during John and hers university years. On occasion it seemed he wasn't the only one. Even the one boy who'd treated her like something special over looked her, John belonged to the great detective. She couldn't help but harbor a crush for him, she knew it was bad, that it wasn't fair to John, but she couldn't help it. She spent her entire life blending into the scenery until one day when this perfect and magnificent boy strolled along and made her feel like the center of the universe. It was a simple comment, just a friendly compliment between friends, but it had meant the world. For the first time in her life someone had noticed what she'd done with her hair was different, and had actually formed an opinion on it. She looked back on it now and figured that it probably was because of his advanced powers of observation. Sherlock might have been the brains of the operation but John had picked up enough to impress Mary.

Don't tell Mary (for the love of god please don't) that a crush that started in her sophomore year of university should have ended long before her second year in med school. She knows. The only problem was that John was so much more than a one time compliment. He was friendly chats about school work, warm smiles, comfy jumpers, loving hugs, and helpful advice. It was more than she could stand. John was just everything she could have hoped for, and everything she would never have.

She wasn't looking for a pity party though, she wasn't even after John. Mary was a realist, she knew how this worked. Boring Mary Morston did not win out against the great detective Sherlock Holmes. It was just that simple. What complicated matters, was that she was in love with a friend, not some unattainable super star or something. She still had to try and keep his best interest at heart. Sometimes that was more difficult in practice than in theory. Her feelings could conflict easily with any number of situations, especially to those pertaining to Sherlock. So when she heard about the newest falling out between the couple she had clashing interests to say the least.

John stumbled into her flat angry and disappointed. Mary was careful not to interrupt him while he rattled off his list of complaints about the day and the detective. The young man stormed around the living room ranting and raving. The young woman just made quick work of brewing two cups of tea for when he was finally ready to settle down. She sat silently and listened to everything he had to say. Because that's what Mary did best, she just sat back and let everyone else take the show. That's not to say she couldn't be brave, or stick up for herself, but she just wasn't the main attraction. Finally John sat on the sofa and took a sip of his now cold tea. After a moment of silence he looked up at mary with some of the saddest eyes she'd ever seen.

"It was our anniversary Mary, our bloody anniversary. Just one day you know… I just wish for one day I came before one of those sodding cases."

The blonde confessed and hung his head dejectedly. That's when things changed. That's when Mary made the decision that would leave her ingrained in the detective's mind from then on. Because Mary did her best in the background, but she knew how to speak for herself, she knew how to say what needed to be said. She was going to get her doctorate in another year for Christ's sake! She could say a few choice words to an ignorant detective.

She waited until John had class and she knew Sherlock would be home because she'd heard the blonde mumbling about there not being any cases. So she made her way over to the flat on Baker street that she'd entered so many times as the timid crush in the hopes that she may now reintroduce herself as the strong friend. The sounds of slow and sad violin melodies filled the air around the flat which could only mean that she'd been correct in assuming the detective would be home. She knocked on the door twice and was greeted by Mrs. Hudson.

"Why hello dearie, So good to see you! I'm afraid John's not in though, he stepped out not a minute ago."

The older women reported and Mary nodded politely as she did so.

"I know, I'm here to speak with Sherlock, it's important."

She said plainly and Mrs. Hudson gave a sad smile but let the girl in. It seemed the current argument was no secret, though it seemed it would be hard to keep secrets from someone as intelligent as Mrs. Hudson. She walked up the stairs with determination but faltered momentarily at the door knob. The greater part of her felt she needed to speak with the man while a smaller part of her argued it might not be any of her business. She decided quite quickly that it had become her business when her flat became the mending tent. Before she lost her nerve the young woman knocked three times on the door and entered. She knew the detective wouldn't answer the call, so she put good manners aside in favor of speed. It was important this was done before John got home.

"Freckles."

Sherlock drawled with an amount of venom to his tone that made her hairs stand on end. She hated when he called her that, it was only a painful reminder of what a small role she played in John's life that she didn't even warrant the remembrance of her name. Without missing a beat she stepped into the room and returned the glare she was now receiving with a tight smile.

"What do you want?"

The man hissed as he stalked over closer to the dull woman.

"To talk."

Mary stated simply and resisted the urge to run away from those intense eyes.

"Yes, obviously. This is about me and John. You think you have some precious kernel of knowledge to offer in regards to our relationship. Well I can assure you that even with out your lack of experience you would still be the last person I went to."

Sherlock scathed and it took all of Mary's will power not to lash out right then. She didn't like being talked to like that; she was a wall flower, not a piece of trash. Instead she focused on the task at hand, on John.

"I'm just here to tell you what I saw when John came to visit me."

Mary explained quietly which seemed to perk the man's interest at least a fraction.

"Oh, and what exactly did you see?"

He asked with ice in his voice. She shook off the rest of her jitters and looked the detective dead in the eyes.

"I'm not as clever as you, I don't pretend to be, but I saw that night just how stupid you really are."

She declared with more courage than she was aware she even possessed. Sherlock seemed taken off guard as well and before he could interject she continued.

"John doesn't get upset over little things; I've seen how he operates. It takes a lot to crack his shell. In all the years I've known him, I've seen it happen four times. That's saying a lot for a med student who works two jobs. One of which I might add includes being shot at on the regular basis. Each time, each time I saw him crack, it was because of you."

She stated boldly and she only took a little pride in the paling features of the detective as that information was processed.

"I'm not here to try and start anything; in fact I'm really trying to stop something. John deserves to be happy, and he gets that from you. However you're also the one who's causing the suffering. A relationship can only take so much shit without it collapsing under the weight. And sure, all couples have their fair share, but you have to shovel it out sometimes. You two don't solve anything, you just keep piling it on. John needs someone who's willing to take him seriously, not to be treated like some sidekick. You act like he's supposed to just do as you say no questions asked, that's not how things work. Plus, it might not hurt to act normal sometimes you know, like not ruin everyone of his birthday parties? I really thought you were going to do it this year but then you went insulted his newly sober sister. Really? What kind of boyfriend does that? If you would just pull your head out of your arse for five minutes you would see that you are sabotaging this relationship."
Mary steamed and she moved to leave the flat, but just before she did she shot one more comment over her shoulder.

"John deserves better."

And with that Mary left a slacked jawed detective to his thoughts; some of which were retrieving her name and committing them to memory. Because she had accomplished two feats in just one brief visit, one of which was Sherlock actually remembering her name, the second being the most important of the two. Mary Morston, an average girl from an average family had started something that would of course be credited to a more prominent character. Mary Morston made the first move in the game that would inevitably end in the fall of Sherlock Holmes.