When the Past Returns - BBC Sherlock Fanfic

Chapter 2 - Boom!

John had sent multiple messages to Mycroft concerning Penelope's visit but he had yet to receive a reply which he thought was strange. There hadn't even been any mysterious black cars waiting for him after work. And he wasn't getting anywhere with Sherlock. He had been pretty much silent since that day, he wouldn't even tell John what happened in Belarus. John decided that he needed to get out the house before he too went crazy. He grabbed his coat and walked out without saying another word.

It had only been two hours before he received a panicked phone call from Mrs Hudson begging him to come back home. As he opened the door of 221b, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of gunshots coming from the flat above. John let out a sigh before running up to make sure that Sherlock wasn't actually murdering someone. He bursts through the door to see Sherlock in his arm chair with a gun in his hand, pointing at the wall. 

"What the hell are you doing?" John shouts, looking up at the yellow smiley face that had been spray painted on the wall.

"Bored," Sherlock mumbled.

"What?" 

"Bored!" Sherlock stands, shooting the wall a few more times for good measure. John stands stuck to the spot in shock, he's truly lost it!

"Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. good job i'm not one of them," Sherlock mutters as he walks over to the wall to admire his handy work.

"So you take it out on the wall?" John questions, taking the gun from the detective and making sure that it was unloaded and well out of his reach.

"The wall had it coming." Sherlock lays down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. John took this moment to try and get information out of Sherlock as he was finally talking again.

"What about that Russian case?" He asks.

"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder, not worth my time."

"Shame. Have you heard anything from..." John trailed off, scared to even mention her name in case it set Sherlock off again.

"From who?" Sherlock questioned, knowing very well who John meant but he wanted to see if he had the guts to bring her up.

"Well, um, from Penelope," John said her name tentatively, like he was walking on eggshells.

"No, why would I?"

"Oh, um, no reason," John shuffled nervously. "Have you contacted her? I mean, there seemed to be a lot of history there," John wanted to keep her in conversation as long as he could.

"John, I haven't thought about her once and I suggest you do the same," Sherlock's voice was cold and emotionless. John knew this is where is interrogation ends, so he just agreed and went about his business. As for Sherlock, he knew what John was doing, he knew he had questions but Penelope Morris was the last person he wanted to talk about. Though he was scared to admit she hadn't left his thoughts since she stood in his flat. He still couldn't quite believe it was her. She hadn't changed a bit, her hair still fell in perfect curls, her eyes still lit up the room but they had lost their sparkle. Sherlock was shaken from his thoughts as John's voice grew louder, shouting about a head?

"A severed head!"

"Just tea for me, thanks," Sherlock replied, smirking at his own joke.

"No, there's a head in the fridge," John had never sounded more disgusted which was saying something. He was used to Sherlock's experiments but surprisingly this was what pushed it over the line. 

"Yes," Sherlock said simply, clearly not understanding why this is a problem. "Well, where else was I supposed to put in? You don't mid do you? I got it from Bart's morgue. I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death." John wasn't paying much attention to the detective. He didn't care why the head was in the fridge, he just didn't want the head in the fridge. It was moments like these that he questioned his choice to move in.