A/N: Thank you so much for your nice reviews, and thanks to all the people who have read the first two chapters, it really means a lot to me!

And sorry for making John and Sherlock so cross with each other :P They will get along later, promise :)

Hope you enjoy :)


"But did you go look for him or something? Did he act strange before going out?", John asked, a quickening stream of panic flowing through him.

"He's a grown man John, I thought that he would be able to find his way back to the flat without my help. And isn't going out to buy milk a very strange thing for Sherlock to do?"

"That's it. This is the last of his daft shenanigans! I'm calling Mycroft", John said, sternly. He knew that the only person who could really make Sherlock listen was his brother. He usually mentioned somebody called Redbeard, but John had no idea who that was. It sounded like some sort of code or a made-up name.

"But dear, we really shouldn't bother him. He probably doesn't know where Sherlock is either", Mrs Hudson doubtfully said.

"Mrs Hudson, Mycroft is the government! If Sherlock is still in England, Mycoft knows where he is!" John was quickly losing his patience, being very eager to punch Sherlock in the face as soon as they would find him. He hung up and dialed the number to Mycroft. Before he could hit the 'call' button, Mary spoke.

"Are you calling Mycroft now? Is that really a good idea?"

"Christ, why is everyone against the idea of calling the missing persons brother?", John threw his hands up in the air to act out his frustration.

"As you know, they are not the best of friends. And isn't this Sherlock's normal behavior?", Mary carefully took the phone from John, looking as if she was afraid that he would throw it across the room. She put it on the kitchen counter. Then she walked over to John, slowly embracing him.

"Don't worry about Sherlock. You don't have to babysit him anymore", she said in a soothing voice, muffled by his sweater. "Everything is going to be alright, just focus on your life now."


"You look a bit tired", Greg remarked the next morning.

"Thanks", John replied, sarcastically.

"Sorry, meant nothing bad with it." Lestrade took a sip of coffee and dragged himself over to his office and closed the door. John sighed. There was not much for him to do this particular day. Molly was still investigating the bloke they had found the other day, and John preferred not to bother while she was doing her job. So all that was left for him was to hang around the office, waiting for someone to go mental and become a murderer. He sure as hell hoped that he himself wouldn't be that 'someone'.

"Tired, are we?" Anderson asked, bothering John with his mere existence. John just looked at him patronizingly.

"I know, I know, it's not really fun sitting around here all day. You could go help Molly", Anderson said, probably trying to apologize for the fact that he was an offensive git. Or so John hoped at least.

"Don't want to bother her"

"She probably gets lonely, you know."


So there he was, sitting beside Molly as she intensely watched something through a microscope.

"Is there anything I can do to help"? He asked politely.

"Not right now, thanks", she said in her soft voice, not even looking up from what she was doing. He thought that it would be weird to stare at her, so he got up from his seat and walked around in the lab.

"Could you fetch me a petri dish?" Molly broke the silence so suddenly that John did a nervous little jump.

"Sorry", she said, shyly smiling. John gave her the requested item and the awkward silence was once again back.

"Have you-"

"How is-"

They both looked at each other for half a second, trying to let the other speak.

"You first", John offered.

"I-I was just wondering how Mary is doing. With the pregnancy, you know"

"She's great, really. The baby is coming any day now, but she is really well".

"That's nice to hear. What did you want to say?", Molly fiddled with the petri dish, dabbing a cotton swab on it.

"Have you seen..., no, never mind." John changed his mind. Worrying wouldn't do any good. Molly looked at him, as if she understood his situation, and then she turned her eyes to the petri dish again.

"You can go home if you want to, there's nothing interesting to do here anyways. The police don't catch many killers or find many victims nowadays", Molly said. John immediately knew what she meant by 'nowadays'. She meant the latest months, without him.

"It's nice to keep you company, though", John said, sitting down again.

"Thanks. Not many people bother", she smiled at him.

"It was Anderson's idea, really." John decided to give Philip the credit for this one.

"That's thoughtful of him. I didn't think he cared."

"So how's things going with...ehm...Tom, wasn't it?"John felt a bit embarrassed for not remembering Molly's fiancees name.

"Well, we broke up. It wasn't working." Molly looked helpless, and defeated. John was sincerely sorry for her, because she really deserved happiness.

"I'm sure you'll find the right one", he tried to cheer her up. She looked up from the experiments and looked the former army doctor straight in the eye.

"I already did. But he doesn't love me", she said.

And suddenly, John's thoughts wandered to the place and time he tried to forget. The windy runway. Sherlock's eyes full of care. The quick pounding of John's heart as he had tried to guess what Sherlock was thinking, but it had been impossible as always. Sherlock's baritone voice saying the words that had haunted John's dreams ever since. The words that John would never even dream about coming out of Sherlock's gorgeous mouth. 'John..., I love you'.

"I...I'm sorry, but I have to go", he said, heart pounding as if he was experiencing a nightmare.

"Okay John, see you", Molly said. She obviously saw that something was wrong, but she didn't mention it. It was between John and Sherlock. It was always between John and Sherlock.


John stumbled out of Barts. Unintentionally, he looked up at the roof, as if expecting to see his best friend standing there once again. Just the thought of it made his knees weak with fear and powerlessness. Without thinking, he phoned Mary.

"Hi sweetheart, what's the matter?" Mary knew that John would only call her in the middle of work if something was seriously wrong.

"I...n-no, not really", John said, coming to his sensed. Surely, he couldn't tell Mary what Sherlock had said on that fateful day.

"John, don't let him bother you when he's not even around!" Mary definitely knew what was up.

"I'm outside of Barts", he said, his voice cracking at the end. He really wondered what was wrong with him, because he definitely didn't cry a lot.

"Come home instead, you know what that place does to you." Oh yes, he knew. Looking over at the spot where he - a few years earlier - had hovered over his friend's dead body feeling very devastated, he felt his head turn foggy and his hands tremble. He was really losing his grip, wasn't he?

"I'm on my way", he said with a flat, emotionless voice, and hung up. Then, he took a taxi home.


"Sit down and rest, sweetie", Mary welcomed him home.

"You are pregnant!", John protested.

"Yes, I'm aware of that. Now, sit down."

John reluctantly did as she said because, ex army doctor or not, when Mary gave him orders he would do as she said. Mary strolled in with a cup of earl grey; John's favorite.

"Now", she sat down, "Tell me what's troubling you?"

John exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You know what's troubling me", he said in a strained voice. Mary smiled at him and urged for him to continue.

"...there's something wrong with me", John finally said. No, he didn't say it, he whispered it. He was hoping that Mary wouldn't hear, but she did, of course.

"There's nothing wrong with you", Mary fondly said.

"Oh but yes, there is. How is it that every time I hear that bloody detective's damn name, my world comes crashing down because I'm afraid he's done something incredibly stupid again? Why do I even care, he's not part of my life anymore? He has moved on, and so should I!"

"Shh, okay John, it's okay, you don't have to shout. Sit down, please", Mary hushed and walked over to her husband, gently pushing him back into his comfortable armchair. John hadn't even realized he had been standing up.

"I'm sorry", he mumbled.

"It's alright. And it's normal behavior to worry about one's friends."

"Now you're just sounding like my psychotherapist."

"But it is, I can assure you. I phoned Lestrade, he will be here in a few minutes", Mary said, very rapidly.

"You...you did what?!"

"John. My dearest, sweetest John. You need to talk to a friend, an old friend. Not your wife", she smiled and patted him on his healthy shoulder.

"He's my boss!", John snarled.

"And your friend."


"So you're saying that you phoned me just to go have a pint with John?", the DI raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Why not?", the army doctor's wife smiled wholeheartedly at Greg.

"Alright, alright. We'll be off then", he turned to John, who put on his coat and made his way out the door.

"This better be worth it!", John whispered to Mary as Greg called for a taxi.

"It is, now, off you go", she hugged him and went inside again, closing the door behind her.

"You're a very lucky man, you know that?", Lestrade asked, holding the cab.

"Yeah, I know"