The Mystery of Love (Johnlock)

Bad Memories

John sits in his arm chair reading the newspaper. On the front page was a photo of Moriarty, the title read: He's Back! It was unbelievable that he could have come back from the dead. Sherlock saw him shoot his brains out the same day he faked his suicide. Moriarty was Sherlock's arch nemesis. He had tried to blow up John, ruin Sherlock's reputation and kill Sherlock Holmes by threatening to shoot his most dear friends, John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade.

He silently reads to himself when a crash can be heard from the kitchen. John jumps from his seat and throws the newspaper to the ground in a rush to see what happened. John bolts into the kitchen to see Sherlock standing by the table, both hands flat on its wooden surface and glass vials broken on the floor. Sherlock's face was filled with fear and frustration. John knew his friend well enough to know that the resurrection of Moriarty was the cause of his stress.

Sherlock's black hair was tousled and more tangled than usual from pulling on it in frustration. His navy blue button down shirt was completely wrinkled from wearing it for several nights straight. His shoulder's slouched over making his spine more noticeable under the thin layer of silk cloth covering his body. Sherlock's fingers curled in the more he stood there thinking. Sherlock's bright blue eyes were staring out into space and slowly filling with tears, his brow's furrowed in anger and his soft lips quivering as he frowned.

John had never seen this side of Sherlock. Of all the things that they both went through together- The Study In Pink, The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Woman- nothing had worked him up to this point of madness. John slowly walked towards Sherlock and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. Sherlock didn't move for a good ten seconds before looking at John.

John was wearing a soft yellow plaid button up and wearing beige dress pants. His hair was combed neatly and his face freshly shaved. His shoes were on as if he was going out, but the two men always wore their shoes in case a mystery that needed solving arrived. John's eyes were filled with concern as his friend lost his mind over Moriarty. However, Sherlock could see a little hint of jealousy which baffled him for a moment, until he saw John's hand.

Sherlock quickly took a step back from John and glanced at the broken glass on the floor. Mrs. Hudson's footsteps raced up the stairs to the boys' room. Once Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen with the boys, Sherlock ran from the room, down the stairs and out of his flat 221B Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson looks at the glass with shock dominating her face. She goes to reach for a piece when John pulls her away.

"What? What's wrong?" Mrs. Hudson asks in confusion.

"That vial you were about to touch contained hydrochloric acid and some of it was still on the glass. If you held it, your hand would start to blister and burn."

"What would you need that for?"

"An experiment Sherlock was working on. Now if you would like to clean up the mess Sherlock made with great caution, be my guest. Otherwise I will clean it up as soon as I get Sherlock back home," John said while bolting out of the flat to find Sherlock.

Mrs. Hudson tried to stop John from leaving but just yelled as he left, "I'm not your house keeper!" Mrs. Hudson stood in the boys' room for a few seconds looking at the mess before going to get her cleaning supplies.

John ran outside and looked around at the busy street before him. Taxies were driving and people running to get to their destination, as well as photographers running to him for his picture and questions. How did Sherlock get through this?

One reporter asked John, "Dr. Watson, where did Sherlock Holmes head to?"

"I won't be answering any questions today, I need to find him." John was blocked.

"You need to find Sherlock Holmes? Can you elaborate?"

"Is he in trouble from some terrorists?"

"Is Sherlock Holmes mentally well? Why was he crying on his way out?"

"Does any of this have to do with Moriarty and his return?"

John, getting frustrated with the crowd, exclaimed, "Shut up and get out of the way! I need to find Sherlock Holmes! He's in trouble now if you don't let me get a cab then something terrible might happen, or worse!"

John pushed through the crowd and signaled a cab. The cab slowed to a stop and he quickly got inside. John knew exactly where Sherlock had gone.