The Question of Faith in Baskerville

Chapter Twenty-one: Counter Aftermath

"Frankly I'm astonished he didn't catch a cold after yesterday," Sherlock told Molly. Nemo ran around the dog park as he and Molly drank coffee. "He stayed out for possibly four hours, and he couldn't have been oblivious to the chill."

"And it was after you mentioned Kayla?" Molly asked.

"Yes," Sherlock answered. "Did I cross a line or have I missed something?"

"Have they been talking at all?"

"Not since the day we returned from Dartmoor, and it was just a few minutes during Kayla's lunch break. John has let his phone ring out a couple times since then, but I'm not sure what's happening between them. Mrs. Hudson also alerted me to a box that John received but it was stuffed under the sink. I looked in his room while he was out, to pick Nemo up, and all of his sentimental items were shut away."

"Okay, I'm getting the full story from Kayla tonight," Molly said. "Something's wrong."

"Should I try the same with John?" Sherlock asked.

"Unless you can deduce it out of him, that would be a good decision," Molly said, sarcasm touching her voice.

Ah. He should have tried talking to John first before poking about his room. Well, he'll know for next time.

"They broke up," Sherlock said, slouching on a park bench.

"And they are both utterly miserable," Molly concluded, cuddling a sleepy Nemo.

It had been a week since they started looking for answers, and it was not pleasant. John was certain he'd done the right thing while Kayla was struggling to understand why he'd done it. But both were moving about in a broken haze.

Kayla was having difficulty concentrating on her lesson plans and having even more troubles with her students than usual. Apparently she'd even asked the person in charge of Sunday School teachers if someone could take her place for a couple weeks.

John was entirely not himself, getting himself lost around London and losing all elementary self-preservation skills. Just two days ago, Mycroft had tailed John in one of his cars for nearly two hours before John even realized someone was following him.

Now Sherlock would always argue, to save face, that he needed John in peak form for The Work. He needed John alert and ready for whatever the lowlifes of London would throw at them. He needed his blogger to act as a sounding board as he rattled through the details of a case.

But honestly, he hated seeing John like this. John was just a couple short steps away from being the same ghost of a man that had first walked into his laboratory in St. Barts. Sherlock wouldn't admit to how many times within the past few days he'd searched John's walking pattern for any evidence of the limp returning.

He was also beating himself up for not noticing something before. John had broken things off the day after they returned from Dartmoor. Nearly a week until John had surprised him with Nemo.

"We have to get them back together," Molly said. "Or at least make them sit down and talk things out."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sherlock asked. "I mean, I want to help them, but do you really think that forcing them together is going to work?"

Molly sighed, nuzzling into Nemo's silky scruff. "Pray about it," she said, voice slightly muffled. "This entire thing needs a whole lot of prayer."

"Which is your department," Sherlock said.

"Then your department will be figuring out how we can potentially make plans without either of them being the wiser," Molly said.

Sherlock nodded. Should be simple enough. He could read clues from crime scenes and interactions with people. He just had to be sure to avoid any clues that John or Kayla would read and pick up on.