Hey guys, so we're almost at an end!
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Sherlock didn't know what he was doing here. This place that only held bad memories for him, memories that he hid away because it felt like he was being stabbed through the chest every time they surfaced. John, face straight and empty, with a bomb strapped to him and a laser on his chest. Sherlock pushed the memory away, he didn't want this. Why was he here?
He was supposed to be getting married. Him. Sherlock Holmes. The man who was married to his work. Self confessed sociopath. What was he doing? He sighed, John was amazing, caring, passionate, kind and the most beautiful man he'd ever met – what did John see in him?
Shaking his head he stood and left the changing cubicle he had been sat in. He knew John cared for whatever reason, he had received countless texts since he had been gone. He wanted to reply, but he didn't know how. He knew he should go home and beg John to forgive him, then get married to the man he loved, but he just didn't know how to do it.
John burst through the doors to the morgue, breathing heavily and looking round frantically. He spotted Molly looking fairly shocked, "Molly! Have you seen Sherlock? Has he been here recently?"
Molly took a few seconds to reply, still feeling worried about the pure panic in John's eyes, "Not since yesterday morning. Aren't you supposed to be getting married in a few hours?"
"Yes. Well we're supposed to be, he went missing last night." John looked lost and deflated.
"Oh, well I haven't seen him, he'll come home in time though, won't he? He always does." Molly tried to reassure John.
John let out all his worries in a flood, "I don't know. He's not replying to any texts from me or his brother, I can't think where he could be. This was my best hope." The hope filtered from John's eyes.
"Well, have you tried any places that would be significant to his and your relationship?" Molly tried to think of all the places Sherlock could be, but there were so many, and probably hundreds more than she could think of.
John closed his eyes and tried to think, but all his memories of Sherlock seemed blurred into one tense ball at the minute – the only places he could think of were Baker Street, The Morgue and Scotland Yard, but he knew Mycroft already had Lestrade and his men checking the building.
Molly interrupted John's thoughts, "Sherlock doesn't function like most people, he doesn't process emotions the same, maybe he'd go somewhere that didn't hold good memories, just big ones?"
John's mind flicked to that terrifying night, he thought he would die. More importantly he though Sherlock was going to die. The pool.
John pulled Molly close, and kissed her on the forehead, "Molly you're a genius!" He exclaimed, "I'll see you at the wedding."
John sprinted towards the doors of the building, dashing over towards the black car. He slammed the door behind him and huffed out the pool name to the driver.
Message sent to: Sherlock at 10:05am
I'm coming, it's okay - JW