Random Sherlock Things

I Knew You'd Come Back

Sherlock Holmes sat in a crouching position in front of the television. "There has been two more murders in the past week, police state that it is most likely a serial murder case." He sighed, turning off the news. He started to tap a pencil, trying to distract himself from the obvious case. But this was Sherlock Holmes, he simply wasn't able to miss an opportunity such as this. He jumped off the chair and reached for his coat. He froze. He didn't have his coat anymore. Of course he didn't. Mycroft had it. It'd been about two years since he'd 'died' and he still wasn't ready to tell John. Shaking his head he opened the door and rushed outside. Emotions were too distracting.

Le Time Skip
Mycroft sighed as he found the flat he had bought for his little brother empty. "Typical. He just can't resist showing off. I knew I shouldn't of bought him that tv." He tried to phone his ignorant little brother, but of course he'd left it at home. His mind could get so immersed in a case sometimes that he could forget to even wear clothes. Mycroft did not want to remember that. A bing woke him from his thoughts. "It's John." Mycroft dropped his phone and ran after his brother.

Another time skip yaaay
Sherlock groaned as he stood back up. He had just jumped from a relatively high building, but he'd managed to find something that would save him. It felt all too familiar as he ran, so he would be hidden from the people chasing him. "John would love this." Sherlock smirked to himself as he walked towards his destination. The murderer wasn't hard to track down. They'd left so many clues it was like they were doing it to annoy him. It was a trap, of course it was a trap, no one would leave that many clues and expect to remain hidden. Except Anderson maybe.

He heard some giggling as he opened the door. It was an abandoned factory. Not the most original place to hide, but convenient. Your game is over." Sherlock announced his presence as the culprit came into sight. He was short. A middle aged man. Experience in combat, obvious by the way he'd killed. He knew how to use a gun with extreme precision. Sherlock subtly put a hand on his gun in the back pocket of his trousers. A familiar laughter filled the air as the man laughed. His back was turned to Sherlock slightly hidden by the shadows. Sherlock stopped. He knew that laugh. He'd heard it three years ago after chasing a taxi. With his friend. John.
"Sherlock! I knew you were alive, I knew it! They didn't believe me Sherlock, they laughed at me. But I knew... I knew exactly how to bring you back.... Then they'd see. They'd see how stupid they were. You were right. They are stupid." Sherlock's hands shook, unsure of what to do. "No, no it's not you, it can't be. You wouldn't do this." "Wouldn't I? A little persuasion can convince anyone to do it." Sherlock's phone ran. Mycroft. For one of the very few times in his life, Sherlock wanted his big brother. He was scared. He wanted Mycroft to help him. He was about to answer it when it was shot out of his hands. "Come now Sherlock, that's not fair." Sherlock knew it. He'd known it as soon as he'd heard that laugh. It wasn't the laugh he knew. Not the one he'd grown to love. It was broken. Scarred.
John Watson finally faced his old friend, a terrifying smile crept up his innocent face. "Don't worry Sherlock. We're together again! The game will never end!"

Author's Note
Ok so this is an idea from a tumblr post, so not mine, but I wanted to write a full story on it. It's very different to how I usually set my stories but I felt like a bit of a mix up today.
Byeees!😜