Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles - A Johnlock Story

Familiar Cases

(AN: graphic descriptions of a corpse will be used in this chapter, as will more graphic mentions of suicide than in previous chapters)

I'd already fallen asleep, my arms wrapped around John when my phone began to ring loudly. I groaned, and reached across to the bedside table to grab it. John groaned as well, pulling the pillow over his ears. I answered before even looking at the caller ID. "What is it?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"There's been a suicide," Lestrades voice floated through to my ears. "That's horrible, now, why are you calling me at 3 in the bloody morning about it, Gavin," I exclaimed exhausted and exasperated. "It's Greg! There's something off about it, but I can't place my finger on it. I need your help, my guys think it's just a suicide, will you come?" Lestrade asked clearly exhausted too.

"Can't it wait? You've woken us up at three in the morning for what doesn't even sound like a six," everyone knew I don't leave the flat for anything under a seven. "Please, Sherlock, something's off about it, and no it can't wait, I really need you here for this one." He said, the desperation obvious.

I let out a long sigh, looking over at John who'd curled up against my chest, his hands curled around the fabric of my t-shirt. "Yeah, give me half an hour, text me the address." I hung up the phone, and prodded John to try to get him to move. "No," he stubbornly refused. I laughed softly. "Darling, Lestrade really needs me to go for this one, and I can't really do that when you're clutching my shirt. At any other time, I really wouldn't mind." He shook his head, before sighing and rolling over.

"Alright, where are we going?" He said, slipping into something warmer for the mid January weather. "We? You're gonna go?" I asked, standing up beside him. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?" He shot back as I slipped into something warmer too.

I shrugged, "I dunno, I just thought you'd want to sleep." John shrugged, and helped me button the last few buttons on my shirt. It wasn't my usual attire, but instead a more casual button down and warm slacks. He stretched up on his tiptoes to kiss me briefly. I slumped against him, tired. "I know, lets go, that way we can come home and sleep faster." He said, kissing my nose, somehow reading my mind. I sighed loudly, and began walking out the flat, grabbing our coats on the way.

I checked my phone for the address, which Lestrade had sent. After a few minutes, John was able to flag down a cab. I gave the address to the poor late night cabbie, and fell back into the seat. John rested his head against my shoulder, yawning. I yawned too, leaning my head against his. "You really didn't have to come with John, you could've stayed behind and slept." He shook his head stubbornly. "Yeah, no," he responded, pulling back to look at me pointedly. I laughed quietly at how adorable he looked when he was being all stubborn.

"Okay, well, hopefully it's worth it, it didn't even sound like a six, but Lestrade seems to think it's important," I could hear the sleepiness in my own voice as I fought another yawn. I let my eyes flutter closed as we rode through London in the early morning.

"Sherlock," John gave me a light shove to wake me, my eyes flying open. "I wasn't sleeping!" I exclaimed, jolting up. John chuckled lightly, and rolled his eyes, "okay, yeah, sure." He tugged at my arm, and I slowly got out, still tired. Lestrade stood at the entrance to the crime scene, arguing with Donovan.

"Just let him in when he gets here," he sighed, running his hands over his face. "Sir, there's no reason for the freak to be here, this isn't even a crime scene! It's just some poor kid who hang-" Lestrade turned and saw us walking towards them, and smiled. The smile was exhausted and desperate, but a smile, nevertheless. "Sherlock, John! You're here! Come with me, the kids in here," he motioned for us to follow him. Donovan glared, disgusted at us as we walked passed.