Sherlock Holmes: The time before the fall

Part 1: Sherlock's Perspective

Sherlock awoke from his slumber, it had been a long time since he had slept this soundly. The case John had dubbed "The Hound of the Baskervilles" had kept Sherlock alert for a few days, sleep not being his top priority. But being back in 221B in his own bed with John's snores drifting through the walls was a small comfort for him. Sherlock debated rolling over and trying to force more sleep out of himself, for John's sake at least. Sherlock knew that John's body craved sleep much more than his. Eventually Sherlocks boredom and selfish nature took over. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, running his hand through his dark messy locks. He stood up and pulled his white bed sheet around his thin, naked frame. Sherlock yawned and opened his bedroom door. Walking into the kitchen he frowned, everything looked... clean. His test tubes and beakers had been emptied, washed and were drying next to the sink. Sherlock grimaced he loathed when John touched his belongings and even more so when Mrs. Hudson did. He opened the fridge at least John had the sense not to allow Mrs. Hudson to dispose of his severed fingers, Sherlock had a specific intention for those. Sherlock put the kettle on and prepared the table for two. He knew his banging and shuffling about would eventually rouse John from his sleep. Sherlock wasn't one for cooking- in fact John had practically forbade him from doing it after an incident with a small fire in which Sherlock believed that both John and Mrs. Hudson had throughly overreacted. The whistle of the kettle brought Sherlock back from his memories. As Sherlock poured his own cuppa he heard John moving about in his room, he smiled and began filling Johns saucer has his flatmate appeared in the doorway pulling a jumper over his head.

'Morning' he grumbled.

Sherlock glanced at John- immediately he noticed things that his mind had not allowed him to observe while being so wrapped up in the case. Johns eyes had deep purple puffy bags under them, and he was looking rather sickly and thin, even under his thick jumper. Guilt washed over Sherlock he knew taht when he skipped meals and stayed up all night John was almost always undergoing the same routine. Johns body was not used to this behaviour, he craved rest.

'Morning' replied Sherlock forcing a smile

'I prepared you a cuppa"

John glared at Sherlock- the memory of Sherlock attempting to drug John at Baskerville was still fresh in his memory. Sherlock tried to but on his most sincere face.

'John, I-'

but John cut him off.

'Thank you- I suppose you'd like some breakfast then'

'If you don't mind' said Sherlock.

He watched John intently as his friend opened the fridge. John sighed.

'Sherlock, we'll need to get some food. Unless you're planning on eating these- are these fingers?'

'Toast is good for me thanks' said Sherlock

Glad that John and Mrs. Hudson's cleaning last night had apparently not extended to the refrigerator. John glared at Sherlock who grinned coyly back. As John prepared some toast and added honey and hame to the table he asked Sherlock,

'Plans for today?'

Sherlock merely shrugged

'Mycroft texted me, and asked if you were busy if you could help him with something'

Sherlock snorted and looked at John sideways.

'Okay I cleaned up the text a bit, it was a tad more demanding'

Sherlock rolled his eyes

'Well you can tell my brother-'

'I'll tell him nothing Sherlock. I am not some sort of messenger pigeon for your deranged relationship'

'Right' Sherlock said 'Sorry'

'I did tell Mycroft the same thing'

Sherlock only nodded but the thought of his John telling off the most powerful man in the British government was humorous. They ate their breakfast in reasonable silence, Sherlock occupied himself with the paper, while John began typing up the run down of their latest case for his blog.