[You'd never believe it, but] The silence is driving me mad.
What would you fill it with?
Explosions, gunshots, violin at all times of the night, and that insane nattering. Now it's just crap telly.
Nattering is a situationally unsuitable word. It implies idle chatter.
There was some idle chatter, though.
Only for your benefit.
What do you think you are doing? –M
You may have to be a bit more specific. –S
Why are doing this to him? Hasn't he suffered enough? –M
Watch over him while I am away. –S
Where are you going?—M
To finish what I started. Do not text me again. –S
For the past week, John had been texting him on and off and he always responded within a few minutes.
This time was different. On Monday, John sent a message during his lunch break, but by the end of the day he still hadn't gotten a response. He was a bit surprised to find himself disappointed.
As he was heading home, John thought about texting Lestrade. It was possible he had discovered some new information.
John let himself in and trudged up the stairs, throwing himself into his chair and started composing a message for Lestrade when he glanced at the kitchen table and noticed a small, neatly-wrapped brown paper package.
John thought about it and decided he had no idea what it could be. It looked too small to be something from his sister. His curiosity piqued, John got up to examine the package. There was no return address. The package was simply labeled John in unfamiliar handwriting.
John sat down at the kitchen table, contemplating the possibilities. He should call Lestrade. An unmarked package would definitely have spelled trouble in the past, but Sherlock wasn't here and John wasn't nearly as involved in crashing the crime network anymore. It was always possible that he had a residual reputation as trouble. He didn't think Moriarty's network would be particularly interested in him now that Sherlock was… gone, but it was possible.
Making his decision, John called Lestrade.
Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Greg's team to evaluate the mysterious package. It contained something solid, but it didn't seem harmful in any detectable way. Still, Greg thought he'd better be present when John opened it.
The two of them went back at Baker's Street. John set the package on the kitchen table, where he said he had found it and sat down in front of it. Greg felt more comfortable standing. Despite the unlikeliness that the package was dangerous, he couldn't relax. He stood rigidly beside John, feeling decidedly on edge.
Carefully, John opened the package.
It contained a small, plain wooden box. The wood was stained an even, dark color and the sides were smooth. John glanced at Greg with a puzzled look on his face. Greg shrugged in response.
Gingerly, John lifted the lid.
A/N: Let me know what you think about where the story is headed. Guesses and criticism are always welcome! Thanks for reading and reviewing!