It Yet Remains to See

Chapter 2

John learned quickly that it was a dangerous thing for Sherlock to be bored. They had two and a half months until they started at Cambridge (the campus was about an hour away by train, but it was still a better option than Westminster), and John could only hope that the curriculum there would be challenging enough to provide the genius with a sufficient distraction. In the meantime, though, the occasional experiment wasn't enough to keep Sherlock's mind from running off the rails. The day that Sherlock started throwing knives at the walls, John decided it was time to call Lestrade.

"I don't have any new cases for him," Lestrade said as soon as he picked up the phone. "My whole division is still sorting out the Moriarty case."

"Are you sure there's nothing you can do to keep him busy?" John asked. "He's starting to throw knives at the walls."

Lestrade sighed. "Okay. Why don't you two come down to the station?"

The inside of New Scotland Yard was a like a beehive with all the Yarders buzzing around hard at work. Taking care not to draw too much attention from his fellow police officers, Lestrade led Sherlock and John through the crowded hallways to his office.

"The deal still stands," Lestrade said, closing his office door. "No crime scenes until you turn eighteen, and even then we'll have to keep it on the down-low."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at Lestrade's attempt to use teenage slang. "Can I bring John with me? His medical training will probably be quite useful."

"You want me to come with you to crime scenes?" John asked.

"Of course," Sherlock responded. "I'll need a crime-solving partner with people skills to diffuse the tension when my deductions start to annoy the Yarders."

Lestrade chuckled. "Well, for now this will have to do." He picked up a box from his desk and handed it to Sherlock. "I went through our cold cases and picked out some of the more interesting ones."

Sherlock's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning as he took the box and ran with it into the filing room adjoined to Lestrade's office. John and Lestrade peeked through the doorway and saw Sherlock sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by filing cabinets in the process of spreading the cold case files across the carpet.

"Let's leave him to it then," Lestrade muttered. He wandered back over to his desk and grimaced at the tall stack of paperwork waiting for him. "Have a seat, John," he said, motioning to the sofa. "Do you want something to drink? The coffee in the break room is decent."

John remained standing. "Maybe later. He won't leave until he's solved all those cases, and so we're going to be here for a while."

Lestrade sank down into his swivel chair and rubbed his forehead. "I really should have thought this through."

John shuffled his feet and looked around the small office until his eyes locked onto a newspaper clipping pinned to a bulletin board on the wall. Above the small print was a photo of Moriarty glaring at the cameras with a twisted smile. John's hands clenched involuntarily as he walked closer the bulletin board to read the article. When he got to the paragraph that listed the crimes that Moriarty had been charged with, it only angered him further.

Lestrade looked up from his desk and noticed John's tense stance. "Everything alright, John?"

John took a deep breath to steady his voice. "I'm hoping the press made a mistake."

"What are you talking about?"

"This," John said pointing to the article. "Why isn't Moriarty being charged with what he did to Sherlock?"