John was patiently waiting for Sherlock to get prepared for their little outing. Of course, Sherlock only had to put on his socks and shoes and coat because John hadn't gotten that far in stripping him while he was asleep, he was hoping to get a few winks himself but things came up. Sherlock emerged from his room and stared at John with his smile tucked away and his hands clasped together.
"You ready to go, Sherlock?"
Sherlock nodded.
"Yes, I am. I'm grateful that you would even want to take me. I know this is very stressful for you, and I'm sorry for that."
John shook his head.
"Well, yes, it has been stressful, but it's worth it. I would do anything to make sure you get better."
"Even if it kills you?"
John didn't nod at the question, he just kind of tilted his head to show that he was considering it.
"I don't think it would have to come to that but if it does, we'll see."
Sherlock smiled.
"That we will John, though I preferred it if you stayed alive."
"On that, we can both agree."
John never noticed that Sherlock was a lot more pleasant to be around as of late. Sure he was a bit prickly when he first woke up, but John couldn't blame him. He was being bombarded by John's pleas that they were best friends and such and so he likely got overwhelmed and shut down and Mycroft didn't help either. But Sherlock seemed to smile more, when he wasn't having the flashbacks and migraines that is, and he seemed to be more sociable than before the accident, like you could have a conversation with him without it turning into a screaming match or a scientific explanation of something or another. John loved Sherlock, but he wouldn't mind of Sherlock kept acting this way. He doesn't want to completely change who Sherlock is, he doesn't mind seeing Sherlock conduct his experiments or playing his violin at three in the morning, he welcomed it in fact, but maybe if there was a bit of change in his attitude...No. How could he even think about trying to alter his best friend's personality? That's what made Sherlock, Sherlock! Sure he may get upset at the other at times, but at the end of the day, they would both be huddled on their chairs watching television together, sometimes he could even convince Sherlock to watch an episode of Doctor Who or something that he knew Sherlock had never seen before but would enjoy no matter how much he would complain about it. That was how they worked.
"Well, we better be off now, before it gets dark outside."
Sherlock gave no response. John whipped his phone out and started to dial Greg's number. After a few rings, he answered.
"John! Changing your mind so soon, huh?"
"Yeah, Sherlock kind've swayed my mind a bit."
"I'll bet."
"But I'm just calling to let you know that we're heading over the scene now, we just need the address."
"Oh yeah, yeah."
John motioned for Sherlock to start heading out the door and followed after him as he was given the directions to the crime scene.
When they got there, the place was flooded with cops surveying the scene and a few journalists and news reporters hounding the police that were guarding the barricades for the crime scene with questions that they couldn't answer and wouldn't be able to even if they did. John looked over at Sherlock who seemed to be a bit anxious by all of the noise and people. He inched closer to John and whispered, "I think I should have waited a bit before coming."
"Why, are you getting a headache?"
He shook his head.
"There's...how many cops are assigned to a crime scene usually?"
"I should be asking you that because I don't know myself. I know that it shouldn't be this many, but then again it's not everyday Scotland Yard stumbles across a serial killer, and a dangerous one at that."
"Do you see Graham anywhere?"
John's brows furrowed as he gave Sherlock a quick glare.
"No, I don't see Greg anywhere."
Sherlock was confused now.
"Why do you say Greg?"
"Because that's his name Sherlock. You got his name right the first time you met him, why can't you get it right now?"
Sherlock simply shrugged, signaling that he was not about to have an argument at that moment and John gladly agreed. It didn't take long until he saw the familiar silver hair among the brown curly hair that belonged to none other than Sally Donovan. John groaned and prayed that she would be too wrapped up in the reporters to notice Sherlock back from the dead. The last thing he needs to hear is, "Hello, Freak."
Not wanting to actually go over to all of the camera flashes and loud voices of people hungry for the necessary and interesting facts to put in their tabloids, and to announce on the news. He texted Lestrade that they were waiting at the entrance of the crime scene and to meet them there. Sherlock was analyzing everything that there was to look at. John could almost say that he was deducing, but he doesn't understand Sherlock's mind, and he probably never will.
"Oi, John!"
John's head snapped in the direction he heard the voice coming from. There was Greg walking over to them with his phone in his hand and leaving Sally to fend for herself while the reporters were getting ravenous. When he saw Sherlock, his smile widened.
"It's good to see you, Sherlock."
Sherlock smiled and gave a simple nod.
"John almost didn't let me come."
"Yeah, I heard that you weren't feeling too well. I'm glad that changed."
John cut in, "But try not to overwork yourself, please."
"I'll try not to."
There was a brief pause before they heard a familiar voice.
"Is that...? Freak?"
John's heart fell out of his chest.