Title: Making the Connection
Story Summary: A non-chronological collection of short chapters based on one word prompts, includes (pre-)slash for Johnlock & Mystrade
Chapter Summary: Sherlock receives a letter from London while he is taking down Moriarty's web. Post Reichenbach Angst. Prompt: Drifting
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Moffat, Gatiss & SACD.
A/N: I just wanted to thank you guys really quickly for all the wonderful reviews, adds and prompts that you sent my way. I'm over the moon with how much feedback this story has received in the last few days. Thanks again. Although I do have a few of your prompts lined up I wanted to keep up with the others as well, so this is yet another prompt from oneword(dot)com.
Sherlock was drifting in and out of sleep. It was such a waste of time. But what else was he supposed to do? Being on an plane narrowed the amount of options for entertainment significantly. He was on his way from Reykjavík to Riga and his knowledge of both Icelandic and Latvian were limited. Therefore conversation was not an option, which was a pity, he always liked testing out new personas on strangers on a plane. They always asked many questions to pass the time and thus gave him the possibility to fine tune his cover.
Finally the turbulences made him give up the idea of sleep altogether. When other teenagers wanted to learn the phrase 'I love you' in as many languages as possible Sherlock had settled for a much more practical sentence. He pressed the call button and asked the flight attendant for a cup of coffee.
When he got it he thanked the flight attendant, put it on his little tray table and took out the letter that he had received a few days ago. He had read it before. The first page was a very concise report that looked more like the protocol of a business meeting than his last piece of home. The second page, however, was written in a loopy hand and a lot more emotional.
Dear Sherlock,
Your brother stopped by yesterday to give me notice that he would send you another report today and told me that I could add something if I wanted. So I asked him to lend me Greg for the night and I went to a pub with John and him last night.
John actually shared my chips yesterday, he's slowly gaining some of that weight back. I'll ask Mycroft to send you a picture with the next letter. I don't think he's going to work at the surgery for much longer, he seems unhappy there. But then again that might not have much to do with it.
We talked about you, not just because of the movement. Greg told funny anecdotes and John commented on them. After the first pint his words always get a little harsher, he still doesn't glorify you, you know? He sees you for who you are – or were. Sometimes, when he goes to the bar to get the next round after we talked about you he thinks we're not looking and then gets this... expression. Greg and I call it the 'post-Sherlock face', because there's really no other way to describe it. Then he orders a shot, downs it, breathes deeply for a few seconds and then he starts smiling again as he walks back over to us.
I know it sounds bad and it is. But I want you to know that we're trying our best to take care of him. Although he gets a bit better every day it still breaks my heart to see him like this. Just... come home safely soon.
Yours,
Molly
He knew that he wouldn't be able to comply to her request, because he was still far from finished with the web. His eyes still fixed on the letter his mind went to a place where he didn't want it to go. Back to Baker Street, into a future where it had taken him too long and there's nothing but an empty flat waiting for him.