221c - A Sherlock Fanfiction

Sherlock

OMG! I can't believe you guys! 1.3K reads? That's huge!

On a different note, DOCTOR STRANGE CAME OUT TODAY AND OH MY GOSH I'M SO EXCITED! I'm fangirling so hard right now!

Cheers!

-Lai

I was immediately in a considerable amount of pain. I looked over at John and croaked, "Morphine," like a dying addict.

"Sorry mate, haven't got any."

As he said this, Ally waltzed in the door. Upon seeing me, lying desolately on the couch, she sprinted full force up to where I was lying. "Hey, you woke up!" she crooned.

"Yeah. John doesn't have any morphine though. Do you have morphine?"

"No, sorry. But I did go out and buy you some other pain meds. Here." she pulled a bottle out of the bad that she was holding, and shook out three pills. "This is the recommended dosage for someone of your height and weight."

"Thank you," I said, gulping down the pills with a glass of water that John handed me. "Gah, it hurts like hell."

"Well, you were the one who decided to run down the stairs in socks, whilst holding a letter opener." she accused, giving me a look.

"I was excited! I had solved the murder, and I was going to go tell Lestrade!"

"In your pyjamas?" she snorted. I looked down at my dressing gown and sweatpants. My shirt had been removed so John could stitch me up. I shrugged, sheepishly. "So, what was the solution?" she asked me.

"Oh, it was the neighbor. Levi owed Kevin Regent some money, and didn't pay him back on the agreed deadline. In a fit of drunken rage, Mr. Regent confronted him. It turned into an all out struggle. The next morning, when Kevin had sobered, he wrote the note and tied it to the fire poker."

"Ohhhhh. That makes sense."

"Sherlock, you're gonna have to take it easy for a little while. No legwork for two weeks." John ordered, changing the subject.

I gave him an incredulous look. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks." he confirmed.

I threw my head back and groaned. Ally smirked. "Maybe this time you'll listen. John tells me that the time you got shot, you left hospital and stayed at home. You needed to call an ambulance at one point because you had internal bleeding. You are not repeating that episode, got it?"

I glared at her, and she matched my expression with one as equally withering. After a straight minute of staring, I finally muttered darkly, "Fine."

John smirked. "You two are so similar."

"No we aren't!" we both snarled at the same time. We then looked at each other in surprise, and then resumed our contemptuous staring match.

"Stop staring at each other, you two. It's not productive in the least. I'll put some tea on, would either of you like a cuppa?"

"I would," Ally said, snapping out of the staring match to look at him.

"I would as well." I said.

"You're welcome, you two," John said ironically.

There was a pause, and then Ally said, "Oh! Sorry, John. Thank you for the tea!"

He ignored her, sassily. He was a very sassy person, and it peeved a lot of people. I had grown accustomed to it, and often found his sass quite amusing. Especially if it was directed towards people I didn't like. I particularly enjoyed it when John sassed Mycroft.

Ally sat down on the ground next to the sofa. "Wanna know the real reason I moved into 221c? I needed a place to live, and I always meant to relocate to London, but I've always had my eye on Baker Street."

I twisted to face her, curious. "What?"

"I have always loved mysteries. I love reading them, writing them, watching them on the telly, solving them, playing Cluedo, if it has to do with a mystery, my family directs it towards me.

"Six years ago, I received an email from my sister Genevieve, telling me to check out a link she had attached below. I clicked it, and was immediately taken to John's blog. I was absolutely fascinated by his blog, and especially the subject of his blog, Sherlock Holmes.

"In desperation to know more about this blogged-about detective, I googled the name, and came across the blog titled, The Science of Deduction. It was fascinating. I soaked up every method, every technique, every way at figuring out the obvious from the evident. I learned how to make deductions. I began to deduce people everywhere I went, and soon discovered deductions of my own. Like how to tell when someone has last eaten, or how old their shoes are based on the laces.

"I stayed current with John's blog, always posting on social media when Sherlock Holmes had solved another great mystery. I was a huge fan, honestly. So, when after four years, he kills himself after declaring himself a fraud, I was in a state of shock. I was, in fact, a part of the 'I Believe in Sherlock Holmes' movement that took the UK, and part of America, by storm. For two years I held onto the belief that Sherlock had not been a fraud, and that everything would be righted eventually. Soon enough, I got my wish. The press discovered that he had been right all along, Moriarty was real.

"But the great detective was still dead. I was part of the Internet club extension of the Empty Hearse, mainly for amusement. Phillip Anderson annoyed the crap out of me, but his theories were pretty good.

Then one day, my mobile started going crazy in the middle of an online tutoring session. I had to silence it for an hour. When I turned it on, I had four hundred and sixty seven new notifications from the Empty Hearse, all ending in #SherlockLives. I was gobsmacked. He was still alive!

"So when I decided to move, I looked for a vacancy on Baker Street, so I might catch the famed detective in action. What I found was a vacancy at 221c, the flat below 221b! You can imagine my excitement, I'm sure. So I went ahead and rented the flat, and moved in."

I sat back, pondering all of this. "You moved to Baker Street, because I lived here?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Why wow?"

"Oh, I don't know. It just surprised me that you chose to live here because I live here."

"Well, you're a good man, Sherlock."

"Oh, well-" I said, about to dismiss her statement.

"No," she said, intently. "I mean it."