[Johnlock/Mystrade] Tears in rain

Chapter 13

April 2027 London Seventh year of the end of the Great Purge

Today was not going well for John.

Little Harry, a patient in the A&E, died.

It brought to recall his sister Harriet Watson, who passed away this month nine years ago.

At the height of the storm, Harry was arrested and coerced into revealing John's whereabouts.

Harry struck a blow with her usual queenly swagger and snapped at everyone in the room with a stunning vocabulary. She had been beaten until her ribs were broken and shoved into a prison truck with no medical attention, she did not even make it to exiles.

In Harry's basement, John and the others were sequestered, with John completely unaware of what had occurred. The detective, however, while not entirely knowledgeable of what had happened to Harry, deduced that she was in grave danger. He turned to look at John, whose awaiting for his sister, and his heart burned with anguish.

John was fretted about his sister, who had been away, as well as himself and the detective. He refused to imagine the possibility that something was wrong with Harry, he dared not.

The detective could only cling to his agitated husband , the basement was no longer safe and they needed to leave right away. John hadn't even been able to fetch a photo of Harry, which the detective had always regretted.

But John never found Harry's remains, only knowing that she died in captivity far before John was convicted, he spent a lot of time and effort seeking for them, but to no avail.

If there's one thing John now laments, it is this.

Sherlock carefully examined his medical records and discovered that he had no recollection of the fractured ribs and back pain that John had mentioned.

"Interesting," he muttered, "he knew more about me than I do." Perhaps the smaller man had studied him, but all indications point to John having no relation to Irene and Moriarty. Or perhaps they knew each other in the past, and not to an ordinary degree, otherwise John would not have known about such a private matter.

When he first met John, that ease in John's eyes were nothing like seeing a stranger;

When John stared at him, that glimpse of sadness that flashed by in his eyes;

The way he could withstand his reasoning;

The way John knew him like the back of his hand...

Removing all the impossibilities, the rest shall be the truth.

Deduction is never wrong. All Sherlock needed now was verification.

I caught you

He leisurely waited in John's apartment, savoring the rare sight of the man's irritated face.

I'm going to have you on your knees today, John, Sherlock mused triumphantly.

Anyone would be annoyed to see an unwelcome guest. Especially because he wasn't in the best of moods, John didn't want to know what this pesky Sherlock Holmes was up to in his house. John opened the door again, motioning for the other man to leave.

"It's no problem if you want the entire building to hear my deduction, John." Sherlock smirked.

"It's Doctor Watson, please." John coldly replied, still not closing the door.

"You're upset with me because I forgot your name, which is why you forbid me from calling you John," satisfied by the other man's grimace, Sherlock continued, "I guess you used to like it when I called you that, didn't you, John?"