Wooh! I finished another Chapter! Enjoy!
That next morning Regan wakes up to the sound of beautiful music, literally. Last night when Sherlock went to "Gather up some things" that included his violin. Regan looks to her alarm clock that showed 6:30am, on a normal day she would be late, but, as it was Saturday, it was painfully early.
"Sherlock!" she moaned, "Quiet Down!"
He didn't hear her over his music. Regan threw the covers off of her and got out of bed. She grabs her white plush robe and wraps his around her silky slip. When she arrived down stairs Sherlock was playing away with his eyes closed, as he usually did. She walks over to him and sits on the coffee table in front of him.
"Sherlock" she whispered.
His eyes flew open and the music stopped.
"Do you have to do that now?" She asks annoyed.
He puts the violin down.
"Are you hungry?" she asks as she grabs the carton of eggs out of the refrigerator.
"Why?" he asks coldly.
"If you're hungry I'll make you breakfast" she adds.
His eyes wander for a moment before he replies with a soft, yet blank "I could eat". He stands up and takes a seat at the table.
She turns around from the stove, "How do you like your eggs?"
He snaps out of his train of thought he started, "Benedict".
Regan hops out of her cab and up to the door that reads '221B', she knocks softly three times. Seconds later the door opens to Mrs. Hudson.
"Hello, dear" she says motherly, "John, Regan's here!"
John opens the door to their flat and moans groggily, "Mrs. Hudson do you have to shout?" he's still hung over from last night.
"Sorry dear" she apologizes, "Long night, huh?"
"Very" Regan smiles then politely walks up the stairs to join John, "It's noon and you just woke up?"
"Don't judge me. I buried my best friend yesterday" he chokes back.
Regan just wants to blurt him out, Sherlock isn't dead! That everything they saw was fake, an act put on by Sherlock and Mycroft to deceive the assassins. But she retrains herself knowing that if she did she would be signing his death sentence.
"You need to get on with your life, get out of the flat. Everything here will just remind you of Sherlock" she says concerned.
"I like it that way, it helps me believe that he's still alive, that he'll run through the door any second saying that we have a case" his somber voice bellows.
"That's not reality though. John, he's not coming back, ever" she says cautiously, "He's dead".
"Don't say that. I believe in him" tears start to well up in his eyes, "I believe that miracles can happen".
"John, this isn't good for you, getting your hopes up even though you know it won't happen. It will drive you crazy" she comforts him with a hug.
John's tears roll down his cheeks but he quickly wipes them away with the sleeve of his jumper.
"I know you loved him" she whispers, "But it's time to move on".
"He was my best friend, before I knew him… I was lost"
"I know, John" he smiles, "But you still have me".
That night when Regan got back to the flat she discovered papers and files everywhere, on the floor, counters, and chairs. "Sherlock!" she yelled. He didn't answer. She walked around the flat searching for him. There he was, just standing there, wearing nothing but the towel around his waist.
"I just got out of the shower, what do you need?"
She swallows hard, "There's papers everywhere".
"I'm sorry, I'll clean up when I'm done" he gives a quick smile then walks out of her room. She finds her eyes following him as he leaves.