The Reichenbach Fall
Silence Returned
Doctor Watson had found he'd created a monster and now decided that the only way to deal with monsters was to fight back.
Rose had been scaring him on nearly a daily basis for almost a solid week and though he was becoming more comfortable in his paranoia that she could be anywhere at any time, John was still jumping every damned time she appeared.
Not one to be defeated – or cancel the bet – the older man had decided that to keep her on her toes, he'd started to poke and prod at various possible hiding spaces; the sofa, the chairs, the curtains, even opening doors fully to make sure there was no gap behind them to hide in.
It had started to work as well, until she'd caught on.
Now he never found her and was even more paranoid than before.
Heaving a sigh, John threw the covers off himself and resigned himself to another day trying not to jump at his young flat mate's appearance every time. I'm a soldier for god's sake, he thought with a grumble, she shouldn't be able to make me jump like this!
Jumping in the shower in the hope of cheering up a little, John decided he'd just throw his dressing gown on and get a cuppa before getting fully dressed and ready for the day.
Still drying his hair with a towel, John headed for the kitchen, hearing the blip of a text as he pulled a cup out to make a coffee. "That's your phone."
"Mmm, keeps doing that." Responded the owner. Sherlock was fully dressed and sat at the table looking through his microscope once more.
Rolling his eyes at the ridiculous man, John looked around the living room quickly before pouring the kettle, picking up the paper on his way to his usual chair – giving it a firm kick on the way – before sitting down. He had however noticed that while his other flat mate wasn't about, there was a mannequin hanging from the ceiling, stiff plastic swinging gently as it hung lifelessly.
If he didn't live with the madness that he did, John would have probably been a little shocked, however he wasn't even surprised in the slightest, only opening his paper as he questioned, "So, did you just talk to him for a really long time?"
But on hearing a chuckle that didn't belong to the man in the kitchen, John froze.
"Rose...?" John asked, only causing Sherlock to smirk into his microscope.
The Consulting Detective of course new of the bet by now and while he first shrugged it off, he was now enjoying the creative efforts his assistant was putting into her hiding and sneaking. He'd even given her a few tips to improve her skills, only furthering his own amusement as she came up with better and crazier hiding spots.
The young woman only chucked from her hiding spot again. "Morning, John."
John heaved a sigh, eyes darting around, wondering where he'd missed this time. "Alright Rose, where are you today?"
Suddenly, the arm of the mannequin jerked to life at it raised the hand up to its head, pulling off a mask to reveal that the mannequin wasn't such at all but Rose Spencer in disguise.
"Jesus Christ!" John grumbled loudly; heart rate having skyrocketed once again as he'd spotted the movement.
Hearing the low rumblings of a chuckle from the kitchen, they both looked to see Sherlock still looking through the microscope but with a very large grin on that he couldn't hide anymore. Looking up at them, he thought he'd take a rare opportunity. "You're getting quite good at this."
"I thank you!" She responded, beaming with pride that she'd managed to actually impress the man.
John just shook his head at her as he tried to understand the logic behind this hiding spot. "What are you even doing up there?"
"Helping Sherlock," Was the obvious answer he received.
"By..." He started, trying to find an explanation. "...hanging yourself?"
She just nodded. "Yep!"
"Henry Fishguard never committed." Sherlock elaborated, picking up a book at showing the still confused doctor. "Bow street runners, missed everything."
"Couldn't cut me down, could you John?" Rose asked, wriggling slightly to spin herself around to face him.
Seeing her predicament though, John just grinned with a mild case of revenge. "Oh no – you got up there, you can get down."
Rose's face fell then, knowing Sherlock certainly wouldn't help, but hoped she could wear the better natured doctor down. "John...please?"
"No, he has a point." Sherlock chipped in, finalising the matter. "You need to be able to get out of any situation you get yourself into."
"And I suppose asking for help from a friend is out of the question?" She asked, hoping to have found a loophole in his latest lesson.
Sherlock just grinned at her. "In this instance, yes."
Looking between the grinning men, Rose sighed in defeat. Sods, she thought as she tried to figure out how to get down again
Rose spent the next ten minutes trying to ignore the beeps of Sherlock phone as she failed miserably to get out of her predicament. Noticing how often it was going off, she started to grown concerned it may be something imminently serious.
"John-" She started before getting cut off.
"I'm not letting you down." He told her, not bothering to turn away from his newspaper.
"No, I know that." She corrected, tone catching his attention. "Can you grab Sherlock's phone; it shouldn't be that noisy this early."
Frowning at her reasonable logic, John folded the paper and heaved off his chair, picking up the loud phone from the desk and seeing several texts from Lestrade and a couple of missed calls. Seeing the latest text, he froze for a second before spinning to look at his friends.
Rose – seeing the look on his face – grew even more worried. "What is it?"
But not wanting to cause undue panic, John thought it best for Sherlock himself to check the messages further – just in case the doctor was mistaken.
Walking past his hanging friend – still confused and growing more concerned by the minute – John stopped in the kitchen as he held the phone out to it's rightful owner.
Sherlock wasn't interested though. "Not now."
"Sherlock..." John said seriously.
"I'm busy." Sherlock insisted, only looking up briefly to further convey his annoyance, but on seeing his friends face, he frowned.
John just gave him a stern look and pushed the phone closer to him. "You'll want to check it."
Sherlock frowning further, he took the phone from his troubled friend, unlocking the screen and opening the latest message.
Rose watched as her friend and mentor got up from his seat, nodded to their doctor – who left in a hurry, presumably to get dressed – before heading to the living room, pulling a sword frown where it had been tucked behind the sofa and stood on the chair he'd just dragged next to her to bring him up to her level.
"Sherlock," She questioned, "What's going on?"
Sherlock however raised the sword and swung towards her with a strong force, aiming just above her head and severing the rope. Having only a split second to realise what he was ding, she closed her eyes and turned away slightly, somehow managing to land on her feet as she hit the floor with a thud.
He's never sacrificed a lesson to be learnt, she thought with a trickle of fear.
Pulling the rope from her neck as quickly as she could, she caught his eye as he jumped down to join her once more. "Sherlock - what's happened?"
Sherlock – as serious as she'd ever seen him – met her eye and said two simple words. "He'd back."
Dramatic as ever, she thought while the irritation flashed over her features. "Who?"
"Moriarty," Sherlock confirmed before going to put the sword away again before John returned.
"Well..." She frowned. "Shit."