Secrets untold, Lies unfold (Johnlock)

Chapter 6

"Why's he so blue?"

"Oh shut up Anderson! I though you had at least the slightest bit of dignity, obviously my calculations were wrong" Sherlock snapped as he peered over the body that lay infront of him.

Weeks have passed since Sherlock has been back. John and Sherlock have made no move on what happened on that first day back, it was always on their minds but never was it spoken about. The sight of Sherlock back in work was a shock for many of his collegues, including Anderson. But he was soon back to his grumpy self to know about Sherlock's survival. Lestrade had been troubled by the amounts of unsolved murders going on while Sherlock had been 'dead'. John had managed to keep that a secret from Sherlock until Sherlock snatched John's phone last night. And read the message from Lestrade saying that they really need Sherlock back as soon as he was ready. Sherlock's reaction was one of shock and anticipation. For it was 1 A.M when he found out so he couldn't just waltz in acting like nothing was wrong. He had enough hassle sorting out the press, but thanks to his brother a story has been passed out that is respectable enough so Sherlock wouldn't get beaten up and hated on. 

"She obviously commited suicide." 

"What? No there was a gunshot and the woman was holding a gun and said she did it. Sherlock, stop messing around. Maybe you should take a little longer off because, it's under-"

"SILENCE! I know what I said and I am completely positive in this! Her wrists have slashes along them, made from earrings and a small knife. The earrings that are inside her earlobe at the moment have a blood stain on them and the scene is oh so boring. School toilets, cuts everywhere and gunshot to the head. She's left handed judging by the amount of scars on her right arm and by the way her left hand is raw from holding..pens possibly gripping things tightly in agony or stress. Poor thing really..shame. But brave none the less. Oh and the lady, ahh well she was her friend. Look closely and you'll see she is infact not a teacher she is a student. Probably her friend or something of the sort. She didn't do it, just wanted people to think she did so she could punish herself in prison. Get her some help, come on John!" After that quick explanation in long sentances Sherlock rose from his croutched position and strolled out of the building acting like he owned the place, with John fumbling along behind him.

"Sherlock, that was very insensitive"

"Was it? How?"

"Oh just casually saying that it was suicide and that about her friend. It's a sensitive subject"

"John, to you everythings a sensitive subject. Even saying something about gifts is a sensitive subject"

"Yes well being rude about things is always sensitive"

"What is this world made of! Glass! I am not daft John. People are not that delicate. Especially the few at the scene."

"Fine" John sighed in defeat. He stood next to Sherlock, and watched the taxi arrive right on cue. Odd little buisness them always turning up, he thought. 

The journey back to Baker street was short and silent. Nothing was said, but the thankings to the driver. Everything was silent as they walked into 221b. Making their way upstairs together, tired body language but racing minds. John went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on. But instead of reaching out to get the teabags, they were infront of him. Held in the palm of a long bony hand; that definately didnt belong to him.