Fire and Ice

Welcome to the Moriarty Fan Club

Sorry I didn't update last night like i said I would but I got sick :( so since I'm home all day resting I have time to update today!! :) I think you all will like this one if you didn't read it when I accidentally updated it the other night. Next update will probably be Friday. Enjoy!!

Chapter 12: Welcome to the Moriarty Fan Club

I woke up in the morning at 10:30am, late for me. The event from the night before had exhausted me and after my shower I’d gone right to sleep. I slept in 221B again since I was out so late. I guessed I would have to donate a bit to Sherlock for rent.

Went I went out into the kitchen to make my morning tea in my robe and slippers, Sherlock was already awake.

“Morning, Sherlock,” I said putting the kettle on.

“What’s wrong, John?” He asked.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that,” I said as I got out two mugs. One for him, one for me.

“Between you and Mary?”

I cringed. I was worried that he would figure it out eventually. Things had been tough between Mary and I since I’d found out that she was the one who’d shot Sherlock. I appreciated that she hadn’t killed him, but shooting my best friend in general was not a great way to start a marriage. I felt safer here at 221B with Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson than I did in my own home sometimes. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to stay overnight.

“How’d you find out?” I asked.

“You haven’t been home in days, John, and you haven’t picked up the phone to tell her,” Sherlock said, in a less know-it-all way than he usually did and a more comforting voice.

“She shot you, Sherlock, and you killed a man to protect her.”

“She was trying to save herself,” Sherlock defended.

“Then she should have told you that!” I yelled, “She could have explained that to us instead of risking your life!”

“John,” he started, but didn’t continue. There was silence for a moment, the only sound was the kettle steaming behind me. “I’m sorry,” Sherlock said eventually.

“I’m sorry too, Sherlock,” I said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Sherlock, please don’t start.”

“No. I just wanted to say that you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

I looked over at him and we locked gazes. He started into my eyes with sympathy. I was tearing up just thinking about it all.

“Can you manage the tea, I’m going to get dressed,” I said as I left the room in a hurry. The last thing I wanted was for Sherlock to see me cry.

I went into my room and got changed into my beige jumper and jeans. I loved Mary so much. Like Charles Augustus Magnussen said, she was my pressure point, but I couldn’t get over what she did to Sherlock. I knew that if Sherlock had forgiven her, then I should have too, especially since he was the one who was shot.

While I was lost in my thoughts, I heard a strange noise coming from outside my room. Then the was a crashing sound like a mug shattering on the ground, actually, exactly like a mug shattering on the ground.

“Sherlock!” I called as I came running out of my room.

“John!” He replied. I saw him standing on his chair with the fireplace poker in his hand. There was a loud sound echoing around the flat. I rushed over to Sherlock’s side to see a light flashing in midair, it appeared and disappeared along with the sound in the air. Was the light the source? And how did it get there?