The detective's grip on his mobile didn't loosen and his intense glare out onto the street didn't cease. It was nearly 2 hours since he had sent that text but there had been no reply.

The shadows had began to grow longer as the day started to fade into night. Cold night air was blowing into the flat and the cat still hadn't returned. The genius grunted in frustration and moved to close the door. He was about to slam it shut when he changed his mind left it open just enough for the cat to climb through.

He turned and strode up the stairs to 221B. He burst through the door and Molly leapt out of her skin. She had fallen asleep while waiting for the detective to return upstairs.

She held a hand over her pounding heart as the sociopath threw himself down into his armchair with a grunt of frustration.

"Gosh, Sherlock! You gave me a fright." She told the thinking detective. "Where's Heisenberg?" She glanced around the floor as she asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Sherlock huffed defensively.

"Because you were waiting for him!" Molly said slowly.

Sherlock just shrugged and steepled his hands under his chin. Molly looked down at her watch with a sigh. The pathologist stood and began to gather her things together as it was getting late.

The detective barely noticed when she left because he was so absorbed in his mind palace. Her farewell call went unanswered as she stepped out of the flat and began down the stairs.

The detective grunted an hour later when he noticed that she was gone. He called out to her but the lack of response signalled that the woman had left. Sherlock pulled himself out of the slouch he had fallen into and pulled out his mobile. He slid the lock across and went to check his messages.

New messages: 0

Sherlock sighed and allowed a thread of worry to instill itself into his brain. Where is John? The detective fiddled with his phone for a moment before he started a new text for his missing lover,

John, where are you? I need you.- SH

The sociopath had only just sent it when he started another,

Did I do something wrong?- SH

And then another,

I'm sorry. Please forgive me. - SH

And another,

Please come home. I need you. - SH

The detective waited for almost an hour but no response came. He yawned. It was the early hours of the morning and Sherlock began to find himself very tired. He placed his phone on the arm of the chair and allowed himself to slide down in the chair. The genius allowed his head to fall back onto the back of the chair as sleep started to take his mind and body.