Sherlock's Second Vow [FINISHED]

Chapter 12: No More Hurting

I know this it late, but we made it extra long and (hopefully) packed full of Feels(tm)! Please do not follow Sherlock's example and use any drugs. Hope you enjoy and all stay healthy during the quarantine!

Happy wishes and prayers to those who need them!

--------------------------------

12

Sherlock was doing fine on his own, just fine. Sheffield was new, a challenge. He'd been in and out of three flats and landed in Crosspool, where Schmidt, the landlord, was away half the time and paid no attention to his experiments.

Fog, bricks, fading paint, car exhaust, chilly air, people walking and laughing, people with their families, people selling drugs.

Man alone on the streets at dawn. Smoking a cigarette, eyeing the people around him. Sherlock made a couple discrete passes.

Worn black jacket, expensive watch.

They were alone on the street.

Eye contact.

"You new here?"

Sherlock didn't confirm or deny this. "What are you selling?"

"Not much."

"Know a girl named Mary Jane?"

The man grunted.

A few minutes later, Sherlock walked back to his flat. The cigarettes hadn't been enough the last couple of weeks, he thought the marijuana high would help.

Schmidt had been gone for a few days. By the looks of it he wouldn't be back for a week. Sherlock flipped on the news, collapsed on the couch and smoked some of it, watching the sunlight try to edge in around the closed blinds.

Just me, myself, and I. The way it used to be.

The way I like it.

He woke up in the evening. They were playing something about a robber on the news. Wasn't much, but he didn't get cases anymore.

He'd set up a new network. "After all," he told the lamp, "I have an international reputation."

He realized he'd smoked everything already, and tossed the lamp on the floor where it shattered in a distinctly unsatisfying way.

"Hmph." Sherlock would have to make do with ordinary cigarettes. He decided it might be fun to try and smoke three at once, and stepped into the night laughing softly to himself.

That robber didn't stand a chance.

***

Roise sat cross legged on the couch, keeping half and eye on the news and half on her book.

Until she heard his name.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadddddddd!"

"Yeah?"

"Uncle Sherlock's on TV."

John appeared from the kitchen, mug of tea in hand. "What?"

She pointed.

***

WORLD-FAMOUS CONSULTING DETECTIVE SHERLOCK HOLMES FOUND PASSED OUT IN BACK OF DUMPSTER THIS MORNING.

ACCORDING TO POLICE HE CLAIMEd THE ROBBER TO BE HIS OLDER BROTHER MYCROFT HOLMES. WHEN THEY QUESTIONED HIM ABOUT DRUG USE HE LAUGHED AND THREW A HANDGUN AT THEM, THEN STAGGERED OFF SINGING A SONG ABOUT THE EAST WIND.

SUSPECTED MARIJUANA POISONING. HE IS TO BE SUSPENDED AND SENT TO A HOSPITAL TO BE CLEANED.

ROBBER STILL AT LARGE.