Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters. They belong the genesis' Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Good job guys!

Authors note: Thank you so much for coming out to read the second chapter of this fic. This chapter is definitely going to have more action than the last one. John's going to be working on the case, and he has a nice surprise for him when he gets there. Hope you like it!

"Goodbye John."

"No. Don't-"

Sherlock threw his phone on the ground, without breaking his eyes away from me. He lifted his arm and reached for me. I returned the gesture. I had to stop him. He can't jump off this roof, I...I need him. If only I had the guts to say that aloud. Maybe he wouldn't jump if I did say it. By the time I had decided what to do, it was already too late. He spread his arms out, and let gravity do the rest.

"No. SHERLOCK!"

He fell gracefully, his coat whipping behind him. I was frozen on the spot. Before I could react, before I could even move, he was already on the ground. I stared wide-eyed. As soon as I snapped out of it, I began to jog over to him. My blood was rushing and my fists were clenched. I almost reached him, but then I got knocked over by some idoit bike rider who wasn't watching where he was going. I fell to the ground, having the air knocked out of me. I stayed on the ground for a moment or two, but quickly regained my strength and made it over to Sherlock. There was a crowd surrounding him.

"I'm a doctor let me come through." I said as I push my way through the crowd. "Please, he's my friend, he's my friend." I pushed through the people holding me back and leaned down to take his pulse. There was a look of disbelief on my face. He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. They pulled me away from him when I felt no pulse, and I fell to the ground as they put his body on a stretcher. "Oh Jesus no. Oh god no." I couldn't tear my eyes away from his body. The paramedics pulled him into the hospital on the stretcher, whilst I was left standing in the street, in utter bewilderment.

...

I opened my eyes. This nightmare was different. I wasn't frightened, just depressed. I ran my hand through my hair, then rubbed my eyes. I realized that I had been crying in my sleep. That's a new one. I sighed and turned my head to look at the time. 6 o'clock. I groaned and thought to myself, how could it only be 6 o'clock? Savouring one last minute in bed, I decided to get up, knowing that I probably wouldn't fall back asleep anyways.

When I reached the kitchen, I quickly discovered I had a newfound motivation. I wasn't sure where it was from, but none the less, I'm glad it's there. Smiling to myself, I decided to make pancakes. I wasn't sure why pancakes, but today just felt like a pancake day. It didn't take long to notice that I was out of milk.

"Damn" I cursed under my breath. Althought I don't know what I was expecting, you can never rely on Sherlock to get milk. However, I continued making my pancakes. How hard could it possibly be?

The answer to that question is: pretty damn hard. Replacing milk with water is harder than it sounds. But when I finally finished cooking, it was 100% worth it. Just as I was sitting down in my chair, Mrs. Hudson burst into our flat.

"Ah, John! You're feeling much better today, aren't you?" She was grinning from ear to ear. What had gotten her so happy?

"Seems I'm not the only one" I replied, smiling at her. "What's gotten you so happy?"

"Oh nothing" she said, giving me a look that clearly said it wasn't nothing. "Mind if I have one of those?" Mrs. Hudson asked cheerfully, eyes drifting towards my small pile of pancakes.

"Oh yea, sure go ahead." We sat and ate in comfortable silence, and I couldn't help but wonder where Sherlock was. He's normally back from, well whatever he does in the morning by now. I was about to go and grab another pancake, but I was interrupted by a text. I picked up my phone and cheacked to see who it was. Lestrade. The text read, "Meet me at the police station at 8." And right then I remembered why I was in such a great mood. We have a case. Finally after a whole week without a case, we have a case.

I wonder how fast Sherlock will solve this one? Maybe he'll beat his record of-

And then it hit me. Sherlock isn't solving this case with me. There's no more Sherlock and John. It's just John now. I'm alone. And that was all it took to crush my mood.

"John are you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost!" Mrs. Hudson had a look of concern in her eyes. I suddenly realized why she was so happy, I was eating. I haven't eaten this much since...since what happend. I realized I had been holding my fork in mid-air.

"You should probably put that cup back on its saucer now, John."

Hearing his voice in my head, I remembered the Buckingham Palace. That had been a strange day. The day we met Irene Adler. The Woman. Although Sherlock never admitted it, he had feelings for her. I just know it.

"John. John are you listening? Can you hear me?" Mrs. Hudson leaned forward and touched my arm. I looked up, but didn't fully reach her eyes. "Yes, I can hear you" I said slowly. "I'm not hungry, you can have the rest of these" I said, motioning towards the pancakes. I teared my eyes away from her concerned eyes. "I'm going to go grab a shower" I said softly. As I was leaving the room, I could have sworn I heard a feint whisper of "Oh John."

...

"Just on time!" A peppy, male voice says as I enter the police station.

"Jesus, you sound like Sherlock when we were investigating kidnapped children" I say jokingly. "What's got you so excited at 8 in the morning?"

"What's got me so excited," Lestrade says slowly, "Is that we actually have a chance on solving this case now." I didn't reply at first. Not just because I thought I couldn't help, but because of what I had said. I've spent a total of 30 seconds on a case, and I'm already talking about Sherlock. Well, I suppose there's no going back now.

"Well, are we going to the crime scene or not?" I ask, trying to get to the point.

"Yes, of course. Follow me."

When we got to the crime scene, I had about a hundred flashbacks of solving crimes with Sherlock, but I may have been underestimating it. There wasn't many officers there. At least not many I could recognize. Doing a quick scan of the exterior of the house, I walked towards the police tape, hands in my pockets. It wasn't until I reached the police tape, that I had to take my hands out of my pockets to lift it up. Such an old habit of mine, keeping my hands in my pockets at police lines. I always knew Sherlock would be there to lift up the police tape for me, it was his equivalent of holding a door open for me. I looked to the side to see that Lestrade had fallen into pace with me. "Is here?"

"Yes, she's just inside, and uh, there's something I didn't tell you about her..." Lestrade was fidgeting shirt. I've never seen the man more unsettled on a case before.

"Well get out with it" I said, my patience wearing thin.

"You see, um..." Lestrade trailed off. If Sherlock was here, he probably would have scared it out of him by now. I threw him an annoyed look, which will hopefully speed the process up. And then he came out with it, all at once. " is helping with the case."

Seriously? That's what he was so antsy about?

"Yes, witnesses normally help out with their cases" I hissed sarcastically.

"Well, uhm, as much as I hate to admit it, Mrs. Morstan is an amazing detective. And, um, considering...recent events, we made a umm...deal." I don't think it was humanly possible for him to take any longer with what he was trying to say.

"Any day now" I growled at him. I just wanted to do my part with this case, and be done with it. "What this little deal you're so afraid to tell me about?"

"Right, uh, the deal I made with her was that if you couldn't help with the case, which I doubt, of course, then I have to let her try to solve it." He looked ashamed of himself, which I didn't understand. He's getting extra help, what's the big deal about that?

"And you didn't want to tell me this becausee...?" I said, waiting for an explanation.

"I didn't want you to think I was trying to replace Sherlock." I understood. Understood why Lestrade had been treading so carefully around me. He didn't want me to think he was replacing the person whom I cared for the most. As much as I hate to admit it, I think the reason I was angry with Lestrade, was because I did think he was trying to replace Sherlock. And in doing this, he would be saying that he never truly cared for Sherlock, only used him for his brains. A sudden wave of guilt washed over me. All this time he was just trying to watch out for me.

"Listen John, I know your angry with me. But can we please put this aside, for the sake of th-" I cut him off. I wouldn't let him finsih that sentence.

"Greg." I said, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Please John, If you're going to yell at me, save it for later." He's a good man, I thought. Willing to take my wrath later just so he can help save a life.

"I forgive you." The look of shock on Lestrade's face when I said those three words, was worth it all.

"You...You do?" He looked more relived then I'd ever seen him in his life. I stretched my arms out, wrapping him into a hug. "Of course I do." I whispered. "I...I'm sorry for shouting at you yesterday."

Stepping away from me, he said "Don't mention it. I should probably show you to Mrs. Morstan now, yea?"

"Lead the way" I replied.

...

"John Watson, I presume."

Mrs. Morstan was nothing like I expected. The woman I expected was a shy, beginner detective, probably getting her only experience off of the telle. But this woman, was the complete opposite of that.

"Yes hello. Very nice to meet you Mrs. Morstan." She was quite a good looking woman. She had short blond hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and a smile you just couldn't help but smile back at. She seemed surprisingly calm, considering her friend had just been kidnapped.

"Please, call me Mary" she said kindly.

"Right. Mrs-er, Mary..." I threw a shy smile at her. What was I doing?! I'm here to solve a case, not get a date! Maybe if I keep repeating that in my head it might stick. "I'm just going to start out and ask some simple questions, okay?" I was trying to be gentle with her. Why was I trying to be gentle? If I'm too gentle she'll think I think she can't handle what's going on, which she can, of course. I mean, I think she can.

Quite flirting and get to work!

Sherlock's voice was clear as day in my head. And as much as I hate to admit it, he was right. Or...his voice was right. I'm here on a case. Nothing more. Mary took a few steps closer to me and before I could react, she was right next to me, whispering in my ear. "John. I know this is your first case alone." I was about to ask her how she knew that, but she cut me off. "Don't ask, Lestrade told me. Anyways, I understand you're a little nervous, but there's no reason to be." She backed away from my ear, and locked her eyes with mine. "I believe in you. You can solve this case."

I remained still, staring with shock. How could she possibly believe in me, she's never even meet me!

She was a bit too close if you ask me. I don't trust her.

Ah of course. I could always count on Sherlock to have something to say, even when he's not here. He's the King of Comebacks. He would outlive God trying to get the last word.

Get out of my head.

Coming back to reality, Mary was still standing across from me, waiting for me to reply. Jesus, I haven't been this in shock since Irene Adler flirted with Sherlock.

"Uhm...thank you. I should probably get on with those questions, yes?" There, I just had to keep my focus on the case, and all will go well.

"Whenever you're ready" she replied.

That's better. You'll be here all day if you keep this up! Now, ask her if she has her friends over every Friday.

Get out of my head.

"So, Mary, uhm..." I didn't know what to ask. I spent all this time dancing around the problem and now I don't even know what to ask.

I told you what to ask!

Damn him for always being right. Sighing, I asked "Do you have you're friends over every Friday?"

"Yes, it's a little tradition of ours. Janine, my best friend, and two other girls, I was asked not to reveal their names, sorry, and myself, watch our favourite movies every every Friday." She spoke with a tone of authority, like you would want to obey her every order. This must have meant she had an authoritative job in her past. I would think she still had this job, but her haircut says she had to maintain a sort of personal grooming, but has recently stopped doing that, because she let her hair grow messy. That means she recently lost her job.

Impressive.

I scoff. You wouldn't say that if you were actually here.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Watson?" Mary bit at me. I was confused at first, but then, too late I realized that I had scoffed out loud.

"Oh! Uhm, no, not at all. I was just, uhm, lost in thought, sorry." I replied almost too enthusiastically. My nerves were jumping around inside me. Why I am so nervous?

"Mind sharing these thoughts with me?" She replied, her sweet smile returning. This woman really was a mystery to me. She had so many different sides I couldn't keep track of them all.

I paused for a moment, letting the thoughts run through my head. "Oh!" A wave of excitement washed over me. I finally understood how Sherlock felt when he figured out something good while making deductions.

"Mary! How do your friends get over to your house on Fridays?" I was so excited I could jump up and down. I hadn't felt this good since...since Sherlock. It was strange, for the first time, the memory of Sherlock didn't upset me, it actually made me smile.

"They all drive..." She trailed off, a confused look spreading across her face. But it was quickly replaced by an amazed look, as she started to realize what I was going on about. "Except for the woman who got kidnapped! She lives not too far away so she walks here!"

"Exactly! The kidnapper must have followed her here, knowing that when she left, she would be alone, in the dark of the night." I was pacing around to room, explaining my theory to her. I was so distracted I almost forgot that's how Sherlock would always explain his theory's, pacing aroud the room. Almost.

"He must have hid in the backyard, in case someone had seen a suspicious person waiting outside someone's home in the middle of the night." Mary looked excited as I felt. Lestrade was right, she is an amazing detective. Not as good as Sherlock, of course, but she reminded me of him. Perfectly calm in a life-threatening situation. "Oh!" Mary shouted, running out of the room. I quickly followed her, assuming she was going to the backyard. "I thought I saw...Yes! Here it is, John." She quickly led me over to a smashed flower pot, just behind an overgrown bush.

"He must have been hiding behind this bush, and knocked the pot over! That must have been the sound you heard!" I was waving my arms all over the place, trying to make a point. I had failed to notice that Lestrade had followed us out to the backyard. He looked impressed with what I had managed to deduce.

"Not bad, John. And you thought you wouldn't be able to help."

"Come on Greg, it's so simple even you could figure it out!" What I said had been a little rude, but I was too thrilled to notice.

You stole my line.

And there's nothing you can do about it.

"The "M". Where is it?" I had to see the spray paint. I had to know if it was the same as the paint the looters used.

"The..the what?" For once, it felt good to be ahead of the game. The look of confusion on Lestrades face was worth it all.

"The "M"! The symbol! The one the kidnapper left!" Compassion for Sherlock washed over me. I never knew how gut wrenching it was to explain things to people who are slower than you. A sudden realization hit me, when had I become the quick thinking one?

"John, it rained last night, it was washed away" Lestrade remarked. "Although, I do have pictures." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. A moment later, he handed it to me.

I took a quick glance at the photo. No, it wasn't the same paint, but it was worth looking in to. "Right, thanks Greg!" I exclaimed. I began jogging away from the crime scene when Lestrade shouted "Wait! You still have my phone!"

Without stopping, I yelled back "I'll bring your phone back later!"

"Where are you going?!"

I turned around to face Lestrade, and called out "I'm going to see Raz." As I turned to leave, I could have sworn I heard the words "Who the bloody hell is Raz?"

...

I couldn't find him. I looked everywhere Sherlock and I had spent time with Raz, but he was nowhere to be found.

You know exactly where he is, you just don't want to go there

Shut up.

It's the only way you'll find him, and you know it.

I let out a grunt of frustration. He was right. Of course he was right! The amazing Sherlock Holmes is always right! Gulping, I thought, I could never go back there, not after what happened.

You can't avoid it forever. You'll have to go there sooner or later.

Go away.

Now his stupid voice in my head was just pointing out the obvious. Of course I had to go there sometime! I'm not ready yet.

The more time you stand here pondering on whether you should go or not, the more danger that woman is. Now get to work!

It was truly amazing how fast one sentence could switch your focus. The woman. I had to recuse the woman. I got out of the dark allyway I was currently standing in, rushed onto the Main Street, and hailed a cab.

"Where to?"

"St. Barts Hospital"

...

When I got to , it was worse than I could ever imagine. I had taken time off of work because I hadn't been able to even go near a hospital, let alone work at one everyday! I stood just on the edge of the road, eyes fixed on the hospital. Before I even realized what I was doing, I looked up at the rooftop. It was a living nightmare. I could almost see him, standing up there, prepared to jump. A single tear rolled down my cheek. Why? Why did you have to jump?

John, the woman.

Right, the woman. That's why I was here. To help Mary's friend, whoever she is. Regaining my focus, I headed towards the allyway behind Barts. Every step I took on this ground, every breath I took of this air, reminded me of him. Hopefully I wouldn't have to spend much more time here than I already have. Looking down the allyway, I saw just who I was looking for, Raz. I was about to call out to him, but he spoke first.

"John. Never thought I'd being seeing you again." He spoke without taking his eyes off his work. "Heard bout' what happened to Sherlock. Bloody awful that is. Makin' my newest masterpiece here in honour o' him." Ah, just as stuck up as I remembered him.

"You didnt show up" I stated, walking towards him.

He turned his head, finally making eye contact. "Show up to what?"

"My court case. You didn't show up. I got fined for that." I'm not sure why I brought that up, it just felt right.

"I wasn't takin' the bloody fall for that. Least you could afford the fine." He spoke, daring me to challenge him. "But I don't think you came her to chitchat did ya. Get on with it, unless you want to end up back in court."

I had to resist the temptation to punch him. If he wasn't vital in my case, I probably would. "Right." I pulled out my-Lestrade's phone and showed him the picture of the "M". "Do you know the author?"

He studied the photo carefully. After a moment or two, he spoke. "Molotow, burner chrome, looks cheep, bout' 150ml can, at the most. Probably about three or four pounds."

As much as I hate to say it, coming here was completely worth it. "Find the can, find the kidnapper." I whisper, more to myself than Raz.

"Yea, 'pose you could do it like that. Or I could just introduce you." A look of utter amazement spread across my face. Him? Help me?!

"Why would you do that?" I asked. I knew I was most likely throwing my chances of catching the kidnapper away, but I had to ask.

"Cause you're a friend of Sherlock's. Any friends of Sherlock's, which isn't many, get my help. We both know if he trusts you, you're trustworthy." We locked eyes. I might have been wrong about him being stuck up. I suposse even street rats like him have a code.

"Lead the way Raz."