And then there was three; a Sherlock Fanfiction

Twenty-five

John Watson laid awake in his bed, listening to the rhythmic breathing of his very pregnant wife beside him. Having been woken by a bad dream, John now struggled to fall back to sleep. So he stayed still, thinking.

It had been four months since he learned of Lilly's real background, and so it had been four months since he had had any contact with her. It had also been two months since he had spoken to Sherlock. After Lilly left, he had become even more moody and distant than before, and although John had tried to keep in touch with Sherlock, he just got too busy with his work and Mary to keep checking in on him.

Suddenly, just laying in bed became too much to bear, so John climbed out quietly, being careful not to disturb Mary. When he was successfully out of bed and standing, John pulled a dressing gown over his pyjamas. He then crept out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. He set the kettle up to boil and waited for his tea.

It was early in the morning, and the sun was just coming up. John didn't have to work today, so he didn't have anywhere he needed to be. He could just stay home and watch the telly with Mary if he wished, or maybe they could go out and do something together in the city.

By then his tea was ready, so he turned off the stove and poured himself a cup.

"Any of that tea for me by chance?" Mary stepped into the kitchen, smiling sleepily at him.

John smiled back at his wife, "sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, but pour me a cup won't you? I'm going to go get dressed,"

John did as she asked while Mary went to change. He was just sitting down with his tea when his phone began to ring.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Hello John," John recognized Mycroft's voice on the other end of the phone immediately.

"Mycroft? What is it?" John asked, a little worried.

"I was just calling to ask for a favor," Mycroft answered, "It's about Sherlock,"

John was even more anxious now, "what about Sherlock? Is he alright?"

Mycroft sighed through the phone, "no, I don't think he is actually. I was there last week; he hasn't been outside in a month, barely eating, moving only to play his violin, and smoking again, judging by the smell,"

John didn't reply, "go over there today, John, he needs you," Mycroft said, sounding defeated.

"Alright, yeah I will," John sighed, giving in without a fight. He hung up the phone and went to take a shower, explaining to Mary that he had to go out for a bit.

•••

John knocked on the door to 221 Baker Street but opened it on his own. Mrs. Hudson didn't seem to be home, so he went right up the stairs to his old flat.

Upstairs, he peeked through the door, calling Sherlock's name. He entered the flat slowly, listening for any signs of life. He wandered from the living room into the kitchen, heading towards the hallway and Sherlock's room. Calling Sherlock's name again, John realized that he heard the shower running in the bathroom.

With a sigh of relief, he turned around to take a seat in the living room, when something caught his attention. He turned back, looking down the hall at Sherlock's closed bedroom door.