The Bás I Caillteanas Project

Breaking Point

The morning after - I'd spent the night at 221B, in John's old room. Sherlock stayed in the lounge all night. He said he was in his brain kingdom...or something like that. Basically, he was thinking about the case.

"I can't do this to him." I muttered to Sherlock.

"You have to, it's for the case."

"I don't have to! I could walk out here right now." I shouted.

"Well go then."

"Maybe I will."

"Fine, go."

I hesitated before slumping down in the chair across from Sherlock.

"Urghh! How are you so persuasive?"

"It's a talent." He smirked.

We sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes until I threw my shoe at him.

"That is for emotionally damaging Greg."

I threw my other shoe at him.

"And that's for making me stay in this flat."

"Bit dramatic." He said, catching both shoes with ease.

He looked at my feet. "Odd socks." He pointed at them.

"I left quickly and I can't go back to change." I hissed.

He laughed. "There's some clothes in there."

I nodded then looked to my phone: 06:42

"Oh god!" I shouted.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I've got work today. It's my first day, I'm going to be late." I said, diving up and grabbing my coat. "I need to go."

"You can't! You're meant to be dead!"

"No, I have to go!"

"Is it at John's practise?"

"Yeah. John and Mary." I said, grabbing my phone.

"I'll call them, they'll let you off for the next few days."

"No, I can't. I need to go, sorry Sherlock."

"John says it's okay." Sherlock shouted.

"What?"

"I just texted him."

"No you didn't."

"I have now. He said it's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

I looked at him worriedly for a minute. "Fine...on your head be it."

I put my stuff back and sat down again.

"I'm bored." Sherlock said.

"Me too."

A smiled stretched across his face. "How good are you with guns?"

"I've never shot anything in my life."

"Brilliant." He said, jumping up and running to the kitchen. He came back with a loaded handgun.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I got up and ran to the other side of the room. "Guns aren't toys, Sherlock!" I screamed.

"It's okay." He put the gun on the floor and walked over to me, taking my hand and dragging me over to the middle of the room, then picking it up again. I felt my whole body tense as he brought it closer to me.