[Sherlock]

When you're trying so hard to concentrate, everything around you suddenly becomes an unwelcome distraction. Especially if you live in the particularly boisterous city of London. I'm sure that many normal people would have had the same problem, but sitting there in Lestrade's office and trying in vain to access my Mind Palace against the onslaught of noise around me was proving too much. I had no choice but to accept defeat when the DI opened the door, shattering what little progress I'd made. I growled in frustration, though this did nothing to deter him from placing a cup of tea in front of me and scolding me lightly for 'not taking care of myself'. I grumbled, but otherwise took the offering graciously. It was far too sweet, not at all how I liked it, but with a stern look from Lestrade I continued to sip it slowly.

The man in question leaned back in his chair and studied me, though I doubt he got anywhere near the amount of information that I did with only a quick glance at him. He looked older, more haggard than I'd last seen him, no doubt due to many more sleepless nights than he was used to.

"You need to have some sleep, you must be pushing 72 hours at least," I said gently, but he just laughed at my concern.

"That's a first," he grinned. "The great Sherlock Holmes, telling me that I need to sleep more!" I scowled, but that only increased the size of that stupid smile he was wearing.

As suddenly as it had come on, his grin faded, replaced by that tired but determined look that seemed to have become his natural expression. I sat forward, suddenly interested, for it was obvious he had something important to tell me.

"Another body has been found, we think it might have been one of His employees." Lestrade said, and I suddenly didn't feel so eager. Normally it would have had me bouncing up and down with excitement (no, not literally), but since it most likely concerned John I really didn't want to be involved. I'd really hoped that knowing I was still alive would stop him from killing any more, but that didn't seem to be the case. I allowed myself a short stab of anger towards John in that moment, for all the crimes he'd committed, all those people he'd murdered, but not for very long. If I continued down that path of thinking, I would eventually have to accept that I was more to blame for this situation than he was. After all, it had been I who had left, who had allowed him to lose his mind in the confusion that followed. He couldn't be faulted for something out of his control.

I shoved all thoughts like that out of my mind, as I decided there was no point trying to establish what had gone wrong, and that I should instead be focussing on how to put things back to normal, or at least, more normal than they were currently.

I stood up, much to Lestrade's apparent surprise. He quickly followed suit, though it was obvious he had no idea what the action signified. "I need to see the body," I said simply. There was a small nod from his end, before he beckoned me to follow him as he left the office.

We were silent on the journey, he concentrated on driving and I attempted to think of a way to contact John. It didn't look like he wanted that much to do with me anymore, which, while sad, was also quite encouraging, as I'd have been more worried for his health if he'd wanted to play a Moriarty-style game. This at least showed he cared enough about me to stay out of my way. I realised that he hadn't sounded as insane as everyone had been making out when we'd talked, in fact he seemed rather in control, which was confusing. Surely my return would have made his insanity worse? It's not every day you see a dead man walking. Lestrade and Mycroft had both said that he had completely lost it after my death, but he had just sounded and acted like John to me, despite his unforgivable actions. Although, that being said, he had looked slightly feral when he'd been talking to Lestrade before I'd known exactly who he was. There was definitely something I was missing here, though I was determined to find out what it was, and soon.

We soon arrived at the crime scene of the man Lestrade had explained was called Harold Peters, and it had been discovered that the man had been leading a double life. Peters had worked in a respectable programming company by day, and was an experienced computer hacker by night, it seemed. He had been found in an alley no where near where he'd last been seen, and after one look I concluded he had not gone there willingly. There were no obvious signs of a scuffle, so he had been killed somewhere else and his body dumped in this location. I began to relay this information to John before remembering sadly that he was no longer working with me. Instead, I talked to Lestrade, but he didn't really encourage me in the same way John would have if he'd been there, so I stopped after a bit. Not for the first time, I wished my little blogger was beside me to bounce my ideas off, and to check the body for causes of death to prove my theories right. The medical team just didn't look for the right things, and were less inclined to share their findings with someone not on the police force.

I retrieved my phone from my pocket and set about looking up information on the newest victim. There were no immediate signs of his other life, but I knew what to look for and soon had a website address to check out further when I next found a computer. The question was, did he have any connection to John's crime network? It seemed so, but I wanted to be certain. Also, I wanted to know what the man had done that was so bad the only option was to be killed. Considering my ex-flatmate's reasons for the other murders he'd committed, I didn't think this man had deserved his fate. While I was contemplating my ideas, Lestrade came over and told me that they'd found his address. I jumped (again, not literally) at the chance to search his flat for clues surrounding his hacker life, and eagerly followed the DI back to his car. However, I was in for a disappointment.

I could tell something was wrong as we neared our destination. We both could. Smoke is a very good indicator of something being wrong, and no matter how much I kept hoping that we were mistaken, my luck didn't hold out. There was already a small crowd gathered along with the firemen to watch the great orange flames lick at the the block of apartments, and smoke was billowing out of every window. I heard Lestrade curse softly, and my spirits dropped when I realised there would be no evidence to find now. If it had been John's instructions, he was certainly thorough. He had been watching criminals for too long, and had apparently learned all their tricks when it came to matters such as these. No wonder the Yard had been unable to catch him.

The DI got out of the car and went to talk to some of the people in the crowd, no doubt looking for witnesses. I didn't bother. There was no point, it was obvious that none of them had seen anything, most people were completely unobservant when it came to situations like this. The culprit could have walked past with a container of petrol and a lighter and still have remained completely unquestioned by those around him. I doubted John himself had been here if this was his doing, he no doubt had lackeys to do the dirty work for him. That left me to wonder how he'd actually gotten into the criminal business, and how it had taken him so little time to make a name for himself. With a pang of sadness and regret I realised he must have been exceptionally good at unlawful activities, and with nothing to lose and everything to gain, he must have given it his best effort.

I left those thoughts behind as Lestrade returned to the car in a jog and started it up immediately. He looked breathless but quite happy, though I was certain he hadn't got any useful information out of the people he'd just been questioning.

"I just got a call from Dimmock," he said excitedly, and I felt my heart flutter in anticipation. "Apparently they've got a suspect back at the Yard who they're pretty certain was behind the arson attack. He refuses to talk, of course, but he's admitted he was part of it. I'll let you question him, if you like?" The offer was unexpected but very pleasing and I nodded eagerly. It was certainly more than I could have hoped for.

I didn't know whether to hope that John had been behind the attack or not. It would certainly bring me closer to finding him, but I wasn't sure I wanted him to be responsible for another murder.

That would only make it harder for me to change him back into the John we all knew and loved.

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