Devils in the Details

Chapter Three // Abiding Notion

IN WILL GRAHAM'S HOTEL ROOM

There was a lack of evidence in the case. No matter how hard they would dig for evidence, it seemed like not a single soul could uncover anything even remotely of worth. The crime scene had been stripped clean - every object turned, every surface fingerprinted, every trace examined under a microscope. There had been almost nothing that could be useful for the situation.

Will wished he could go to see the crime scene itself - Sherlock hadn't told him they were ever going to head off to it, and now he feared that it might never happen. There was so much that could be gleaned just by being in the place where something occurred, at least in his mind.

There were only a few more days until he was going to be returning to America, and he wasn't sure how Sherlock was going to feel about that. While Will enjoyed the atmosphere of London, he had to return home - even if he were working on a case.

Sitting on his bed in the hotel room, he couldn't help but think that he was ready to return home. There was so much he didn't want to go back to, but he missed it nevertheless. Home was home, and there was very little that could change that. Serial killers, madness, and gruesome murders wouldn't stop home from being home. Will would be heading back soon, very soon.

He wasn't sure how exactly he could break the news to Sherlock that he would be leaving soon. Surely the detective knew that his vacation in London was ending soon. Nevertheless, Will felt like he wasn't going to get a good response. Most likely, he wouldn't even acknowledge the fact that Will was from another country.

Will got out his cell phone and considered sending a text out to remind Sherlock about it. He took a moment to try to think of how the man had managed to rig his phone. He could send and recieve texts from Sherlock but no one else seemed to work. He didn't understand how that was even possible - but then again, he was never much of one for technology.

Back at home, Will found himself fishing for a pasttime. People always tried to tell him that he should be spending more time out and about. He was getting older each and every day, and he was still a bachelor. They said that like it was the worst thing in the world, and he hated it. Someone had even told him that he was an attractive man for his age and that he might as well just go ahead and find a wife.

He was only thirty eight years old and had time to live out his life- he wasn't close to dying of old age by any means. Dying by some other force was certainly possible, but Will tried to avoid thinking about it. He needed to force those unpleasant thoughts out of his head before he was going to send out a message to Sherlock.

As his fingers were poised and ready to type out a text message for Sherlock, he felt his phone quivering in his hands. Sure enough, he was recieving a text from none other than the consulting detective himself.

You're going to have to stay for longer than expected.

-SH

Will looked down at the message in his hands, unsure of how he should take this. The part of him that hadn't wanted to take the case was groaning, moaning over the fact that he had to stay even longer. By attempting to avoid getting involved in any sort of crime and heading over to London, he had wrapped himself up in another major incident.

What do you mean, I have to stay?

Exactly what it sounds like. You'll have to remain in London rather than heading back to Minnesota.

-SH

I wasn't aware you were making decisions for me. Will sent a text back, knowing that he was likely going to make Sherlock upset. At the moment, he didn't really care - he was upset because of what Sherlock was saying to him. He was an adult same as the detective (in fact, he was slightly older than him) and was capable of making his own choices.