A question that had been plaguing Sherlock for the past month or two, of course during the first month he had not noticed his flatmates disappearance -due to an problematic case he was working on at the time- but after a while he had began to notice that there was an absence from 221B.
After figuring out that the usual places were a no good and he would not find John lounging in the bath or sitting on his laptop in his room, he turned to the ever-wonderful Mrs Hudson. Who had informed Sherlock that John had taken a ‘long trip to Spain’ with some of his old mates from school.
A ‘long’ trip to Spain, why hadn’t he informed Sherlock of these plans?
Of course Mrs Hudson had also informed Sherlock that on several occasions did John tell Sherlock that he was going, however on those several occasions Sherlock had been tied up with case work and the only answer he could muster was a ‘uh-huh’.
He was slowly going insane. He needed John. He missed him.
Four months, seven days, twelve hours and six seconds.
He needed John, it wasn’t even a question. John was Sherlock’s addiction and it wasn’t until he was gone did he truly realise what he was missing.
So Sherlock did what Sherlock does best on withdrawals. Closed his curtains and lay on the couch staring at the ceiling.
Mycroft had called round on multiple occasions -usually because a worried Mrs Hudson had phoned him- but he did not talk to Sherlock he only sat and waited for Sherlock to say something, which he usually didn’t.
It was on a particularly wintry day; Sherlock had finally mustered enough energy to make himself a cup of tea and to eat one of the sandwiches Mrs Hudson had been leaving for him.
With a swish of his housecoat, he sat on the couch and began to drink.
It had been a really long time.
John looked at the door of the 221B Baker Street. He was there, finally in home. He had been out so long, and the simply view of the door was enough to make him smile like a child.
He knocked twice, and gently. Mrs Hudson opened the door, and as soon as she saw him, she hugged him kindly, like if he was her own son who has finally come to visit her after a long time. They both laughed and Mrs Hudson said “I’ve missed you!”. John replied that he had missed her too, specially her cakes.
“Where is he?” asked. Mrs Hudson pointed to the second floor with her head. “Thank you.” John kissed her cheek, and run upstairs, leaving the suitcase. He opened the door slowly, and took a quick look of the room. Everything was just how it was when he left, but there was some odour in the air. Maybe tobacco. Oh, you did it again..
John walked in, and saw Sherlock in the couch. His heart jumped inside his chest, and his eyes opened. A bright smile appeared in his face. He had missed him, a lot. He was still Sherlock, drinking tea and sitting on the couch with a face that was screaming ‘I’m bored’. Now his eyes were fixed on John.
“Sherlock…” could say him. He cleared his throat. For some reason, his eyes were becoming damp. “I.. I’m back.”
For God’s sake, Sherlock. You did it again??!
Something is missing…
this is silly and has probably been done 18247893767830468 times
Sherlock’s a bit possessive about his shock blanket.
D Y I N G
a pair of socks
science fair ribbons.
My girlfriend. Sweet.
my broken iPod.
my visibal man model
anatomy is my weakness
I WAS WARNED ABOUT THEM
OH FUCK NO.
NO NOT THE CHAIR.
ooc: FUCKING WATER.
OOC: (( bubbles ))
Avengers movie ticket wtf…
My Loki helmet…?
// my sociology text book. Bloody knew it.