The next day was a Monday and John had work. John brought his mobile in with him, but he didn't look at it all day. He focused very hard on his patients and even made an effort to be friendly with his the rest of the staff. By the end of the day, he was exhausted. He fell asleep almost as soon as he got home.

Tuesday went similarly. By Wednesday, John had fallen back into his routine. His anger from the other night had given him energy, but it was beginning to wane. He hadn't received any more texts.

By Thursday, John was feeling drained. Work was tedious. Out of habit, he pulled out his phone and typed the thought into a text.

Work's been tedious.

John caught himself before he sent the message. What was he doing? He sat motionless for what seemed like ages. Impulsively, John pressed the send button. The moment he did so, he was angry again. He didn't have time to work himself up too much, however. He received an answer in less than a minute.

My sympathies.

John's stomach churned. Half of him felt as though he was being mocked. The other half was just trying not to imagine his friend on the other end of the conversation.

On Friday, work flew by. John felt distracted. It was nearly the weekend and John knew he was going to have to do something about these messages. He could contact Mycroft and demand whatever information he had, although John didn't feel much like talking to him. Lestrade was another possibility. He wasn't as likely as Mycroft to know exactly what was going on, but talking to a friend sounded better than talking to the Government.

Lestrade it was.

Greg Lestrade's day had been less interesting than John's had. His department had just finished an arduous case involving about thirty different people and the paperwork was a nightmare. Just as he was deciding the rest of the busywork could wait until Monday, Greg saw John through the window of his office. He stood and tried to stretch the hours of sitting from his stiff muscles. Opening his door for his guest, he waved to a chair.

"What can I help you with, John?"

John appeared hesitant to bring something up. Greg wasn't surprised. Their last meeting had not gone spectacularly well. There had been a lot of yelling and it was his guess that neither of them wanted a rehashing of that experience.

"Well, I've something to confess."

Greg sat back in his chair carefully and leaned back. "Go on."

"I—I've been texting his mobile."

"Sorry, what?"

"I've been texting Sherlock's mobile," John clarified.

"Right. Okay?"

"And obviously I didn't expect a reply. But I'm guessing the number was reassigned—or—someone got ahold of the phone. I don't know." John ran one hand through his hair.

"Wait… there's been… someone texted back?"

Silently, John handed over the phone. Greg glanced through the most recent few texts. "Last week?"

"Yeah. What do I do?"

"Are you asking me as a friend? Because I'm not entirely sure I could do anything professionally."

"I don't know. Either." John shrugged. "What do I do?"

"Well, they haven't really said anything too bad. It's up to you. If you want to keep texting, go ahead," Greg shrugged, "but if they say anything… well… let me know if there's any change. Maybe then we can figure something out."

John sighed. "I do want to find out who it is. I don't think Mycroft is behind it, although he could be."

Greg nodded. "Yeah. Not really his style."

John turned his phone on. "I'm gonna tell him—whoever it is—that I'm talking to you."

Greg felt a little alarmed.

The reply was very quick. John handed his phone over.

Went to see Greg.

Lestrade. Yes. Good.

Greg shivered, although the temperature wasn't particularly low in his office. He felt like going to the window and peeking outside for any suspicious figures. "We definitely need to keep an eye on this… person."

"Do you think I should go to Mycroft? Ask him what he knows?"

Before John finished his question, his phone beeped again. Lestrade, still holding the mobile, glanced down at the new text before handing the phone back to John.

Don't bother with Mycroft.

Greg and John looked at each other. Greg didn't say how eerily reminiscent of Sherlock that was.

John shot off a reply and showed Greg the response when it came a moment later.

Why?

Worthless.

A/N: Thanks, everyone! I'll be posting again soon. Reviews make me a happy!