Wanted to write at least a little something...here ya go!
Ch.13
The days seemed to fly by and before they knew it, a few weeks had gone by. So many clues that werent really clues at all, and then some that actually could mean something, but didnt attatch themselves into the puzzle. Sherlock seemed to spend more and more time isolated, in his mind palace or on his phone with either Bryant or Mycroft. He had drifted back into his old habits and John was starting to get worried. Currently, he was looking under his microscope to see what kind of poison the latest runner had been murdered with. Since the first on the highway, four others had turned up. All the samples, he had compared it to so far, had been inconclusive. He sighed in frustration, still not saying a word. John raised his eyebrows, but left Sherlock be for the most part. He knew how his fiance got when they worked on a case, so it was nothing knew. However, seeing Sherlock stressed was something he could never get used to. He was in the kitchen making them both tea when---CRASH...and the sound of glass tinkling to the floor. Christ, John thought. He poked his head out of the kitchen. “Sh-Sherlock? You alright?” he asked, tentatively.
“Oh, hell…,”Sherlock muttered. Now the sample he had was ruined. But, he did find it matched the 3rd victims, just not the others. What angered him was that there was no foreseeable pattern. These people, the runners, were picked at random. Age: differed from 20s to late 40s, gender: male or female, no physical attribute where the same...it just didnt make any sense and Sherlock hated...loathed not knowing. John walked in and sat Sherlock’s tea on the table, his mug on the other side. He walked back to kitchen to get the broom and dustpan, quite used to this by now. Sherlock had done this so many times since the case at Baskerville, he had lost count. Sherlock had started picking up the larger glass pieces with his fingers (he was happy he had rubber gloves on) and put them into the trashcan in the kitchen. John made sure he got every single piece, just so that Beast wouldnt step on any.
“Do I even have to ask?” John asked, with a knowing look.
“Apparently not,” Sherlock quipped. He was not in the mood to have his fuse tested right now.
“Ok, then,” John said. He sat back down at the desk, with his mug of tea and he continued going through the case files. It was beginning to become redundant, but he kept up his facade, just not to have Sherlock explode...yet again, like he had done a few nights ago.
“You wont find anything in there,” Sherlock called over.
“Mmm,” John hummed in response. The less he said, the better.
“I’ve looked through those a hundred times...if I cannot find anything in there, what makes you think you will?” Sherlock asked. John took a sharp intake of breath at that comment. Ok...enough was enough.
“You know what? I know you are a proper genius and all that. Great...yes, good for you. But, has it ever occured to you that maybe, just maybe, a REGULAR person, like me, could actually be of help? He KNOWS you are a God damned genius, Sherlock. For Christs sake, I know my intellect has nothing on yours, but I am not a bloody idiot. I have humored you for the past 3 weeks, just to let you do whatever it is you do to solve a case. You hate to admit it,” John continued, but stood up and walked over to Sherlock and slammed his hand down on the table, making Sherlock jump, “that this one isnt as easy. This one you just cannot just do a quick deduction and get it over with. We have been here for almost 4 months now; this isnt going to go away, Sherlock and you know it. Stop pushing me away, because I am one of the only people you have,”
“I can figure it out…,” Sherlock stated, but John, already heated, kept up pushing Sherlock’s buttons. “Maybe you cant. Maybe this will be the one that just cannot be solved by the great…Sherlock...Holmes,” he moved down,just inches away from Sherlock’s face, and whispered the last part very quietly. Sherlock was outraged. He shoved John away from him, which made John falter back.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Sherlock growled at him. Johns eyes widened. Sherlock never swore, except when he was particularly angry. But, they narrowed back just as quickly.
“Your bloody blogger. Thats it. Your bloody blogger and tag along,” John hissed.
“Oh, I get it. This is about you not getting attention, isnt it?” Sherlock asked, sarcastically. “Well, tough shit. You once told me that they are human lives at stake and here they are again...at stake AGAIN. And, of course, who do they rely on to catch this son of a bitch? ME! Not you, me. You think my life, being what I am is easy? Yes, I know you were in the army, John, I know. But, think about this. I had to DIE, commit my own suicide, to save the people I love. Yes, I came back, but not before 2 years were up...DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT MADE ME FEEL? To only get messages through Mycroft and Molly once every month to let me know you and Mrs. Hudson were okay? This man will do the same thing to someone else if he isnt stopped, John, and here you are...acting like a child,” Sherlock finished this with whipping around and stomping up the stairs, Beast hot on his feet, went into the bedroom and slammed the door. John immediately felt guilty. Yes, he had been feeling a bit...neglected, but that wasnt the reason for...Oh, bloody hell, who am I kidding? Of course I made it about me, John thought. Im an asshole. A huge, bloody asshole. He hated fighting with Sherlock...no one ever won them. Someone, or both of them, always ended up hurt and angry. He knew Sherlock would still be upstairs, probably for the rest of the night, so he took off his outer button up shirt and his jeans, settling into the couch in just his boxers and white t shirt. He deserved to be in the dog house, after all. He sighed, stuffing the pictures back into their folders that got strewn on the coffee table. He stacked them up as they were before, and laid down and flipped on the telly. He turned on Netflix to the episode he and Sherlock had left off. ‘School Reunion’. It was the one where Sarah Jane Smith made another appearence. He loved this episode. It took his mind off of his current situation a bit, until he got to certain parts. Something Sarah Jane had told the Doctor had always struck a cord with him...always will, it seemed.
‘The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us just as much as happiness or love. Whether it is a world, or a relationship, everything has its time. And everything ends.’
John thought about that. Everything has its time...what if Sherlock’s and John’s time was up? No, no...he couldn't bear the thought of his detective not with him. Not again. He felt better knowing he was just upstairs, however, he knew he didn't want this fight to continue in the morning. He continued watching until the episode was over, and he watched Rose’s face when she asked Sarah whether to stay with the Doctor or not. John smiled at her answer. ‘Yes. Some things are worth getting your heart broken for’. Sherlock was definitely worth everything and more to John Watson. He loved Sherlock more than life itself, even before he wanted to admitted it. He finally had the crazy consulting detective for his own, and by God, they were going to solve this case, and kick Mr. E in the junk when he saw him for causing him all this turmoil, go back to London and marry the man he loved. No madman was going to get in the way of that.
