The Johnlock Book of One Shots

Return From The Fall

221B of Baker Street was awfully quiet now that Sherlock was gone. It had been almost three years since his fall and John took it upon himself to return. For the past few weeks John has lived in 221B as if nothing had happened, getting up with his normal routine and then he would watch telly or go to work, when night would fall he would retire to Sherlock's old room to sleep and then it would happen all over again. He paid the rent as usual and so on. John didn't want to remember that he was alone there, he could smell Sherlock around him, feel as if he were there. No one thought that this was safe for John to be there but John needed to think. John needed to go to his own mind palace and do what he would need to do.

John now was sitting on the sofa, watching the telly, and thinking about Sherlock and how he would be sitting next to him on a normal day and yelling at the screen. John wrapped the robe tighter around himself and then a sharp ding erupted from his mobile. John sighed at the sound and rummaged around in his pocket looking for his phone; finally he found it pulled open the text.

Come on, we've got a case.

-GL

John sighed. Greg had wanted him to work on cases as Sherlock could but John knew that he couldn't. John could do some basic deductions now but it was nowhere near close to Sherlock. John rose from his seat and turned off the telly as he grabbed his cane and left the building.

"I'm off on a case. See you later, Mrs Hudson!" John called.

"See you, John!" Mrs Hudson called back. John walked out the door and called a cab that took him to Scotland Yard where everyone was waiting. It didn't take too long and John's eyes almost watered when he had turned his head in the taxi and only a memory of Sherlock remained in the seat beside him. Finally the cab pulled up on the curb and John tossed the man a fiver before tossing himself from the cab.

"Come along, John! This one is tricky." A voice called from a little ways away. John looked up and saw Greg standing there with Donovan and Anderson coming up behind him.

"Hey, new freak." Donovan sneered as John walked up the steps. John rolled his eyes, she was always jealous of him and Sherlock.

"Molly is waiting downstairs with the body." Greg instructed. John nodded and took the lift down to where Molly stood in the morgue.

"Thank god you're here! This one is really odd, no marks where he was killed, and no signs at all." Molly exclaimed when she saw him. John nodded and walked over to examine the body. Suddenly a text beeped through John's phone. This had happened every time John was taken in for a case, someone would text him with the answer to it all. John had at first suspected it was Sherlock but as John knew, Sherlock was very well dead, but everything the person texted him was true. John felt sorry for the person on the table, he only looked about six years old or so, he thought of this as he opened the text.

Empty his stomach, you'll find that he was drugged. Someone gave the drugs to him; it was the mother's medication that his older sister got for him because they were playing doctor. The gun shots heard was the neighbour's child accidently shooting the gun at the wall. Sound familiar?

John's hand went straight to his mouth reading the last part but he knew it couldn't be Sherlock texting him. He was dead!

"Molly, he was drugged. He and his sister were playing a game and the sister brought him their mother's medication to make it seem more realistic. The gun shots were the neighbour's child setting off a gun at the wall." John said, speaking for one of the first times that day. Molly stared at him with wide eyes as the man limped from the room with his cane in hand. Molly raced to work on this and had already told Greg by the time John had made it but upstairs where the others waited for the news.