Downloading... [Sheriarty AU] {Completed - Edited}

Chapter Twenty-One: Serious.

That night, Jim has trouble sleeping. He tosses and turns, curling the blanket around his legs so tight he has to roll the other way just to make sure he doesn't cut off any circulation.

He's mentally cursing and calling himself names the whole time, feeling terrible for the way he lied to Sherlock. He should have told him about it, he asked. He wanted to know. And all Jim did was shrug!

It's 3am when Jim gives up on the notion of a goodnights sleep - or sleep at all, really - and slides out of bed, leaving the covers and pillows looking like a toddler had a temper tantrum.

He makes tea and then sits on the sofa, scrolling through his phone just to keep himself business. He thinks he's on Facebook, but can't tell without his contacts in or glasses on. It's blue. He can tell that much. Maybe Tumblr, if not Facebook.

It doesn't matter, anyway.

Tea and body drained, sleeping is somewhat forced upon Him and he doesn't even realise that he's fallen asleep on the sofa at an awkward angle until his alarm blares from his bedroom some five hours later and cause him to sit up sharply, neck aching.

"Oww..." He groans, rubbing his neck.

He doesn't feel up to go in to see his mum now...But he should and has to. It'll probably put him in a better mood anyway.

With a great sigh, Jim forces his body into action and heads for the bathroom. As if on autopilot, Jim turns the shower on, holds a hand under and nods at the temperature.  Jim quickly strips his clothes and dumps them in the near empty wash basket.

Climbing into the shower, he begins his morning routine and prepares himself for the journey out of London and into the area his mother lives. It wasn't too far, just over an hour journey by train. Sadly, his mother had sold their home in Ireland some years ago and moved closer to her 'baby boy'.

Before Jim even realises it, he's dressed himself in a snug pair of jeans and a loose red tee, has his suitcase sat beside him and is waiting on the platform in King's Cross for the train. It seems like he'd blinked and the first ten minutes of travelling was over.

Jim scrolled through his phone aimlessly, glancing at the train information. He had seven minutes until his train would arrive and at half past the hour, the train would leave the station and arrive in his mother's town in exactly an hour.

Trains weren't his cup of tea. Too many people.

He thanked any God that may exist when he climbed onto the train and it was practically void of humans. He quickly settles in a seat by the window, stuffing headphones in his ears and staring blankly out the window. He soon finds himself leaning against the window, eyes drooping.

He doesn't exactly sleep as the train makes it's way south. It's more of a daydream. He's not quite asleep but not fully there either. Jim does remove one headphone, however, listening to the announces so he knew where they were - his stop was the end of the line, anyway.

Thankfully, even as more passengers get on, no one occupies the seat beside Jim and he continues to listen to his music and stare out the window, mood slowly brightening.

An hour later, Jim finds himself stepping off the train and on to the station platform. As soon as he does, he hears a gasp/shout of his name and looks in the direction of the barriers to see his mother and father behind them, his mother waving frantically.

His mother was a short woman and her dark hair, which only had a few grey hairs among them, was pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her clothes were casual too, a baby pink blouse and blue flannel jeans that had splash of paint on that just didn't seem to wash out. Her eyes are a murky green colour but they still light up at the first sight of her son.