I love Janto: yep.
I had assumed that Sherlock's parents wouldn't be told that he was still alive and thus neither would Lyra. I may go back and redo a few chapters.
Also I looked it up and it's possible that John would get three to five days off. Though two to three days gets mentioned on more sites. And this is if seeing a friend kill themselves is treated the same way losing a family member is.
John vacuumed downstairs and Sherlock's room. He remembered when Mrs Hudson had helped to scrub some of the more questionable stains off the kitchen counter, for someone who wasn't a house keeper she really didn't want to leave the house keeping to them. Though John wouldn't have trusted Sherlock's cleaning abilities either.
He made a mental note that he still needed to bag up Sherlock's clothes, he could donate them to Red Cross or something. After turning the vacuum off, he looked around a bit. There was a framed photo standing on Sherlock's drawers, it was of two children standing side by side. The one with curly dark hair and grey eyes could have been Sherlock. Maybe the taller and fatter one was Mycroft. They smiled at the camera, Sherlock's smile wider and less reserved than his brother's.
John found himself smiling, wondering fondly what knowing Sherlock back then would have been like. Less fond was the thought that Mycroft's sensibility about his weight might have stemmed from his childhood. John took the photo deciding to hang onto it since Mycroft hadn't wanted any of Sherlock's things.
He took a breath. Deep inside he knew all along that he couldn't stay at 221B but hadn't been ready to find a new place. Maybe now it was time to start looking. John was sure that Mrs Hudson would take care of Sherlock's belongings, maybe she'd have a better idea of what to do with them than John did.
"Thanks for sandwiches. Do you want to come in?"
"Well I could stop by for a few minutes. You know you're welcome to join in on one of my game nights."
John moved aside to let her through. Mrs Hudson closed the door behind her. John made his way to the kitchen. "Would you like some tea?"
"If it's not too much trouble."
John turned the kettle on. "I've been thinking it might be time for me to move." John rubbed the back of his head. "Not much point in an extra bedroom when it's just me here." He tried to smile.
"Well you have to do what's best for you. I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to find a new tenant."
"And I could visit. Come for a game night or something."
"That would be lovely."
Molly glanced at her phone. She hadn't talked to John much since Sherlock 'died' and she felt awful about it. John was her friend and Sherlock had wanted her to take care of him. Molly wanted to take care of John but it was hard to look him in the eye, to look any of Sherlock's friends in the eye when she knew Sherlock wasn't really gone.
Maybe tomorrow, Molly thought, I'll pop by Baker Street for a quick chat.
I wish I could link tumblr posts because apparently the rumored photo of Mycroft and Sherlock as kids is real but it's impossible to tell what's on it because it's shrouded in darkness and never focused on.
I swear I saw a dorky photo of Benedict and Mark shaking hands in a tumblr post. But I've never been able to find it again.
