Tears of an Angel - Sherlock

Chapter 17 - Burning Revenge

Sherlock was acting strange. Well more so than normally, no what happened recently had really clocked something inside of him.
They had gotten Freya home safe and sound, John proceeded to clean her up and bandage her wounds. Luckily they weren't too deep they needed stitches, but they would defiantly scar. Sherlock knelt beside her bed, watching as she slept.
John walked in to see the detective, silent and lonely.
"Sherlock?" he whispered from the door. The detective raised his head, his eyes were bloodshot and he had tear stains down his face.
"I'm sorry you have to see me in this state, John" he said calmly.
"Don't say that Sherlock. It's perfectly normal to get... emotions" he stuttered.
"But not me!" he cried "I'm Sherlock Holmes, the sociopath and now look at me!"
"I don't understand" John answered, narrowing his eyebrows. Sherlock got up and walked ver to his doctor so he was only centimetres away.
"You did this to me, John Watson" he murmured just so John could here.
"What? What are you-"
"Can't you see John!" he shouted "Isn't it obvious!" John was taken back from this and started to back away.
"Your scaring me Sherlock" he whimpered.
"John! Can't you see! Look at me!" he said gesturing to himself.
"No I can't!" John yelled back.
"Look John the reason- the reason for all of this is because of you, its your fault" Sherlock explained.
"Right," John mumbled. Sherlock looked at him expecting him to get what he was saying. "Because it's always my fault..." John sighed. He turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock called.
"Out!" John spat back harshly as he slammed the door.
"John..." Sherlock whispered. That was it, the sociopath had screwed up. Big time.
He phoned beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out eagerly hoping it was John.
Dear me Mr Holmes what a mess you have made. Poor Johnny boy, he was the only person who could ever be there for you and you screwed up. Anyway, I'm getting tired of this little game of ours so how about we make this quick. I'll give you two days. On the second at midday, meet me up on the roof of St Bart's.
JM xx
P. S. if you fail to do so, you'll face the consequences Sherly ;)
Sherlock chucked his phone against the wall and watched it smash against the plaster.
"Ahhh!" he cried. 'What if he has John? What if he kills him?' Sherlocks thoughts were going at a million miles per hour.
"Sherlock?" a small voice came from the bed. Freya was sitting up, eyes sunken with tiredness.
"Sorry Freya, didn't mean to wake you" he assured, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside her.
"Where's John?" she asked. Sherlock sucked in a breath, he didn't want to worry her.
"He went out for some air" he explained. Freya raised a eyebrow.
"Sherlock what happened?" she asked softly.
"I don't know- I don't know what's happening..." he explained. "I hate not knowing". Freya sighed and placed a hand on his knee.
"It's going to be okay" she assured him. He gave a fake smile back.
"Get some rest Freya" he said smoothly. She nodded and tucked herself back under the doona (Blanket). Sherlock exited the room pausing in the doorway.
"Goodbye Freya" he whispered before leaving.