Sherlock felt lethargic today. He felt like his legs were jello. His hands were shaking and he was tired, for no exact reason. He had slept at his regular time, and woke up the same time he always did. So he wondered, what exactly was wrong with him? He hadn't taken drugs recently, he had been clean.
He tried coffee, but coffee never helped him get energetic. He had no motivation. And the worst thing was, Lestrade had told him there was a case. He said he would come in half an hour, but he knew he couldn't come. Not in this state. John hardly noticed as he just sat and read the daily newspaper.
"John I'm going to take a shower." Sherlock announced, and John looked up from his paper to look at him, but he was gone before John could say anything. He shrugged and went back to reading his newspaper, and sipping his tea.
Sherlock wasn't going to actually take a shower. He snuck into John's room quickly, and grabbed one of John's coats he never wore. Bingo. His cocaine was in the pocket of the coat, knowing John would never expect to find Sherlock's stash in his own closet, it was easy to hide.
He snuck back out of John's room, and went into the bathroom. He locked the door, and turned on the shower. Well, it worked for John. He thought Sherlock was taking a shower. Meanwhile, Sherlock grabbed the syringe, put the cocaine in, and pricked his vein. He hesitated on injecting, after all, John would be pissed, sad, disappointed, angry at him if he found out. The withdrawl feelings will suck. But he couldn't take this tiredness anymore.
And so, Sherlock injected himself with the drug. Soon enough it kicked in, and Sherlock made sure that no one, not even John would find out he had just relapsed. After that, he washed his hands and made himself slightly wet to make it seem like he took a shower.
When he came out, he dressed himself like normal. Thats when the cocaine kicked in. Sherlock sucked a breath through clenched teeth. He pulled on his iconic wool trench coat, and walked up to John.
"Lestrade has a case for us, do hurry up John."
"Why didn't you tell me??"
"Doesn't matter, get dressed its in 20 minutes."
John frowned and got up, getting himself dressed. And off they went. Sherlock avoided any eye contact with John. He had dilated eyes, and John would know if he saw. But he felt happy. He felt like he could conquer any case, speak any language, fly, do anything.
John saw that Sherlock's emotions had.. increased. John didn't mind Sherlock doing this, well he was.. more caring than usual. John wouldn't ever mind Sherlock being more caring. Unless he knew what Sherlock had taken. They went about the case easily, Sherlock had solved it as usual. But on the way back in the taxi, Sherlock had been fidgeting. Fuck. He knew he should've went by himself in a seperate taxi. Idiot. John wouldn't of even cared if he went in a seperate one. Sweat was forming on Sherlock's forehead.
