The Science of Starting Again//Book Five

Chapter 21~ The Broken Man

Third Person P.O.V

Half the night went by as the group searched for the missing detective. Luck, however, wasn't on their side.  In the end they had returned to 221B, feeling defeated and anxious. For Teddy, however, those two feelings disappeared when she caught sight of an item sitting on the table beside John's armchair. Neither he nor Greg seemed to notice this slight difference in the flat, but Teddy did. The text she recieved from her brother a moment later confirmed that. The suspicion she had had earlier that week, those little thoughts that had been obscured by her recovering mind, suddenly came into full view. Instead of voicing these thoughts, though, she convinced Greg that it was time for them to head back to his for the night. She knew it was only a matter of time before John connected the dots and she didn't want to be there for something so private and gut-wrenching.

That night, while Greg slept beside her in peace, Teddy thought about what may be occurring in that moment on the other side of town. The thoughts made her worry about John and Sherlock and the future. She could feel her fingers itching for the feel of a heavy, cold bottle in her hands. Her tastebuds longed for the sharp taste of alcohol on her tongue. Greg didn't keep alcohol in the house, though, and she knew that all the shops would be closed by now. So she went for a different evil, one that she knew she wouldn't become addicted to.

It's only for tonight to calm my mind, she thought as she snuck downstairs. It wasnt like the thing in question was a stranger to her; she and Irene had dabbled in it once or twice in high school. She wouldn't become hooked to it like Sherlock usually was. It's just to calm my mind.

She found Greg's stash of cigarettes behind the kitchen sink before she tiptoed outside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was already sitting on the front doorsteps when he arrived, hair messy from a restless night, a cigarette hanging limply from one hand. She stared at him from where he stood behind the iron gate, taking in his tense posture and curled fists. She could easily tell that he knew the truth now. Blowing out a lungful of smoke she spoke.

"This isn't going to be an everyday thing," she told him, eyes locked on him as he opened the gate and walked down the path. "I wanted a drink but Greg doesn't keep alcohol in the flat. However, he still has his stash. Should probably get rid of that."

Without a word John sat down next to Teddy, his jaw hard as he stared down the path he had just walked. The pair didn't speak for a moment. Together they watched the moon slowly begin to set, dawn arriving.

"I'm sorry, John," Teddy finally said, snubbing her cigarette out and chucking it aside with a sigh. John looked at her, many thoughts and emotions flowing through him all at once. Anger, sadness, Teddy's eyes always looked more grey than blue in the morning light, regret, she always gave the warmest hugs, temptation, he wanted to go back to the park and the swings and the very first time they had kissed-

"You were the only good thing I ever had," he said, catching her attention. She stared at his eyes, saw the dilated pupils, watched as he leaned towards her-

"John, no-" she murmured, turning away from him.

"You were the only good thing I ever had," John repeated, feeling like he was physically falling apart. "You would always tell me the truth, Teddy, always."

He leaned forward again, trying to kiss her, to feel like he did before everything had happened: before Sherlock's fake suicide, before Teddy had left him, before he had found Mary. Teddy put one hand on his chest and for a moment he thought she was actually going to kiss him back. Fear flooded his mind. Did he actually want that? However, before he could say anything her hand pushed him back slightly, stopping his advancement. She raised her other hand and John prepared himself for the slap which was about to come.