Sherlock Holmes hasn't spoken to his flat mate ever since their last discussion about his brother. He could bear with silence, but it was boredom that made him start a conversation. "I'm sorry about the way I talked to you the other day. I didn't mean it." "Of course you did." "Yes, I did. But I'm still sorry." His flat mate didn't answer. Instead, he continued reading the newspaper. "Is there any case we can work on? We haven't had a case for such a long time." "Yes, there is one." "Really?" Sherlock asked, partly excited. He really needed a case, and it was also a great way to get John to talk to him. "Yes. The client's name is Mycroft Holmes." his flat mate said angrily and shut the newspaper. Sherlock sighed. "Can we talk about something that's not related to my brother?" "You're related to your brother, Sherlock! Every time I look at you I think of the ill man that's isolated from the world because his brother believes he had betrayed him!" "Why do you care so much about him?" Sherlock was becoming upset. John was his friend, not Mycroft's. "I care about you, Sherlock, don't you see? Ever since this whole thing started you don't eat, you barely talk – for God's sake, you're using drugs again!" the doctor took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Look, you'll feel much better if you'll just visit him." "Why would I do that?" John Watson got up from his seat and walked to the door. "Wait." his flat mate called. He didn't turn. The detective sighed. "Give me a week. A week, and then I'll visit him." John didn't ask why he needed a week. He didn't ask what made Sherlock change his mind. He just walked out of the flat.