He had it. Moriarty. He finally had him, nearly in his grasp. Except it wasn't Moriarty. He was equally clever, equally evil, but it wasn't him, which was obvious from the start, but only to him. He carefully explored his mind palace to try and find anything else before he made his move. This was delicate. Very delicate.
Sherlock stayed perfectly still as John ambled down the stairs and into the kitchen, ignoring his flatmate and walking into the kitchen to make coffee.
That's funny. He usually says good morning, thought Sherlock, although his feelings were hardly hurt.
While the blonde man made his coffee, clinking was louder than usual and more constant, and the way the doctor slumped in his usual chair after dropping the kettle on told Sherlock that something was wrong.
"Something is troubling you." The detective stated without shifting position or opening his eyes. John let go of an annoyed sigh and looked over, swallowing loudly before speaking.
"Really, Sherlock? I wonder what it is. I wonder what the bloody hell is bothering me." he said with a growl, turning his head from Sherlock after he spoke, tapping his fingers on the arm rest with annoyance. With this, Sherlock opened his eyes and slowly sat up, looking at John.
"Would you like to talk about it?" Asked Sherlock quietly, obviously offended but trying to stay calm. John looked over immediately, surprised by the fact that Sherlock Holmes had just offered to talk to him about an emotional issue. After a few seconds of weird looks, the tall man slid over to one side of the couch, silently inviting John to join him. John, once again surprised at the invitation, hesitated before taking a seat next to Sherlock. They sat in silence until Sherlock said, "Well?"
"It's not Mary." John said in a whisper. Taking a deep breath, his head in his hands, he choked out, "It's the baby."
After the more silence, John continued.
"It was my baby, too. She was carrying my child. She was carrying a part of me. She was mine!"
He yelled the last part, startling Sherlock and making him shift uncomfortably. John never yelled. The detective turned to see tears welling in his friend's eyes, and, John, realizing this, turned away from Sherlock, embarrassed.
"I- I just can't believe she would leave with my baby." he said quietly, trying desperately to hold back the tear that were trapped in his eyes. Sherlock sat for a moment, trying to think about what to do. With much debate with himself, he decided on the best thing to do. Silently and softly, he pulled John into a hug, ignoring his flatmate's hafhearted protests of "Sherlock..." and "No... Stop it" and only hugging him more tightly. after a while, John returned the hug, wrapping his arms around his friend loosely and letting tears silently travel down his cheeks and stain the detective's shoulder.
As Sherlock held him, he felt better. He was surprised by the man's newfound sympathy and warmth, and, as they broke away, Sherlock rose to take the kettle off the stove which had just begun to whistle. John slumped back on the couch and was presented with a hot cup of coffee a minute later. He took it and moved back to his chair as Sherlock took his usual spot on the couch once again as if nothing had changed, even though everything had. The anguish in john's heart had been lessened, at least for now, by none other than Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective.