beyond the gravestones (sherlock/johnlock fanfic)

Chapter 8

John entered 221B to find Mycroft seated in his armchair, looking as bored as ever. He dumped his shopping on the kitchen table and carefully took Rosie from Sherlock.

"I'll send you the necessary papers by tonight." Mycroft was saying, "The helicopter will meet you at the usual place. I really must get going now. A tempting evening of absolute inactivity awaits me." He nodded at John and headed out, straightening a pile of books as he went.

"Sherlock. We're going to Sherrinford tomorrow, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"Should've known you weren't exactly planning a beach trip." John said, smirking slightly as he laid Rosie back in her cot.

"Sherrinford is a beach."

"Anyone I should say goodbye to?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Don't be melodramatic. We'll be completely safe. I really doubt Harry would miss you if you vanished for a day."

"You remember my sister?" John asked, a little astonished.

"You remember mine."

"Yea, she's a little hard to forget."

Sherlock laughed. "Have you got any theories?"

"What, you're asking me? You'll just snub me and say that I'm wrong."

"I won't. It helps to have a fresh opinion."

"Oh, all right." John settled into his armchair. "Charlotte Oliver was incarcerated in Sherrinford a long time ago, but she got out. She wanted to clear away all traces of her past life, so she somehow stole the file and changed her name to Irene Adler. That's my theory."

"Not bad." Sherlock admitted, "But as always, Watson, you ignore the possible in favour of the probable. Your limited human vision is clouded, whereas I view the affair with crystal clarity."

"Knew it." John said under his breath. "What's your theory, then?"

"Can't tell you until I compound it. To do that, I need to take the Woman to Sherrinford. We'll have the element of surprise on our side."

"How do you know she'll agree to go off into the unknown with you? Have you even asked her out on a second date?"

"No, but I took her pulse."

***

Sherlock couldn't sleep.

The only way his theory would help the case would be if someone at Sherrinford had a bone to pick with Irene. Even then, why would this someone murder her stepbrother, when she clearly didn't care about him? Who would go to such lengths to psychologically scar Yardley Oliver? All of Sherlock's background research had revealed that the man had no enemies. And yet, such an intricately planned crime certainly couldn't be a random one. Sherlock hated the feeling of grasping at straws, but he realized he was doing exactly that.

He slid off the couch and started preparing a cup of tea. He had somehow convinced John to take the bed for another night, but he knew it wouldn't last, and he would eventually get forced back into his own room. He wondered if he should ask John to share with him, but he knew John would refuse, especially after what had happened last time...

The night that they got back from their first visit to Sherrinford, John had forced Sherlock to spend the night at his house. Since 221B was in ruins and Mycroft was spending the night in the hospital on Lestrade's insistence, Sherlock was in no position to refuse. Both John and Sherlock were too worn out to sleep on the cramped couch, so they'd ended up settling on far edges of the bed. However, dawn found them curled up in the same blanket, a little too close for comfort. Sherlock had no qualms - it had kept his nightmares at bay - but John sprang out of bed and muttered something about 'checking on Rosie'. Neither of them mentioned it after that, and Sherlock was convinced that John had forgotten all about it.