The detective stood in the door of 221 Baker Street with Molly Hooper close beside him. They duo both were looking down at the floor. They watched as the blonde Bengal hesitantly stepped out onto the pavements.
The cat looked up at the two people with his deep blue eyes. Molly nodded in encouragement and Sherlock raised an eyebrow, although he refrained from telling her that the animal couldn't understand the action.
The cat seemed to understand, despite Sherlock's scepticism, and it scuttled further away from the door. The cat looked back every few small steps to make sure they were still there. Sherlock stepped out to follow it but Molly grabbed his sleeve.
"I'm sure Heisenberg can manage on his own. We can wait here." Molly said softly to the detective.
The sociopath looked down at the woman and sighed, "What if he wonders off?" He asked, glancing down the road at the cat which was trotting way. It seemed that the cat had gained confidence.
"Then he probably went home." She pulled Sherlock back into the house.
"What if he doesn't go home and returns here but the door is shut?!" The detective protested. He folded his arms and pulled back so Molly couldn't drag him further into the flat.
"Then we'll leave it open a little for him." Molly said while walking back up the stairs. She heard the genius huff so she looked over to him. "I'll make tea. Come up after you've done the door."
She made her way up the stairs and Sherlock watched her every step. Your tea won't be as good as John's,the sociopath mocked. After she was gone he span around and threw the door open so that it was wide open. He then marched over to the stairs and sat on one of the bottom ones with his long legs stretched out beneath him.
The detective rested his head in his hands as he stared outside the door. The pedestrians walking passed gave him funny looks but none stopped to ask what he was doing.
Tourists,business people and local Londoners all passed by the open door of 221 Baker Street but there was no sign of a beautiful blonde Bengal cat.
Sherlock's stomach grumbled and as if on queue, Molly came down the stairs carrying a tray. She stepped passed the sociopath and placed the tray on the floor. It was carrying two cups of tea and two sandwiches. It was clearly lunchtime.
Molly glanced around awkwardly, "Isn't John here?"
"No." Sherlock replied quietly.
"Where is he?" It wasn't like the doctor to leave his partner alone very often.
"I think he is at a conference or something."
"You 'think'?" She questioned.
"I have to delete something!" Sherlock defended himself.
The pathologist frowned slightly, "Did you two have a fight or something?"
The genius mumbled under his breath and shifted where he was sat on the step. One hand began massaging circles into his other palm. He glanced down at the old floorboards in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Strangers on the street were glazing in as the walked passed, curious to see inside a building they passed everyday.
He mumbled again and Molly couldn't quite make out what he said, "What was that?" She encouraged.
"I said, that I may have shouted at him before he disappeared." Sherlock looked up at the woman as if seeking comfort.
She wanted to offer support but she knew that any physical contact would be unwelcome.
"It's okay, Sherlock. I'm sure he'll come back soon." The pathologist soothed.
"How can you possibly know that?!" Sherlock cried out.
"I know that because John has stayed with you so long that it would be a waste of all that time for him just to leave. He knows that as well. He always comes back for you." She stood and walked back up the stairs leaving the detective to wander through his mind palace.
The genius waited for the cat to return. He glanced down at his watch and sighed as the cat had been gone for almost 3 hours. The detective groaned and leaned back against the steps, ignoring the one that dug into his lower spine. Molly had been down a few times with drinks and food but Sherlock still felt alone. Why am I drawn to this cat?
Where is Heisenberg? Where is John? Why has he left me?
The sociopath pulled his phone from the pocket in his trousers. He held it in his hands for a moment and glared at it as if it was keeping John from him. He pressed the button and the touch screen lit up. He quickly slid the lock across and opened up his messages. Lots of old messages popped up, mostly from John asking for milk(which Sherlock never got).
His nimble fingers opened a new message. He thought for a second before typing. He decided to keep it simple,
Where are you? -SH
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X Lockie (LockedIn221B)
