Waiting

41 2 0
                                    

[A/N] This is from Johns point of view. It's been about two to three weeks since the funeral. I really really really hope you guys are enjoying this.

- Jules

I shake Sherlock awake. The idiot fell asleep on his computers. His eyes snap open and he sits up, getting back to work.

"She was there, John. I know she was there." He mutters, "I saw her eyes. Alison was staring at me intently. She wanted me to know. She needed me to know." I sigh and head to the kitchen, making some tea.

"Sherlock. This isn't healthy." I say, handing him the cup of tea.

"What isn't healthy is Alley being locked up with Moriarty." Sherlock snaps, chugging down his tea in one gulp.

"Sherlock, face the facts." I growl, "You're giving everyone false hope-"

"Why do you want her to be, dead, John?" Sherlock says calmly.

"I don't-"

"Yes. You do. You always believe me no matter why I say." Sherlock explains, "So why don't you believe me now? It's not because you don't want false hope. It's not because you think it's not healthy. It's because you want her dead. Why?" It's because she didn't want to be alive. And if she was alive, she was in pain and I couldn't bare the thought. I can't lie to Sherlock, so I don't respond. I do, however, grab my coat and leave. One of Mycrofts limos pull up.

"Oh god, no." I shake my head, crinkling my nose.

"Get in." Mycroft rolls down the window, "It's important."

"You're here so it must be." I sigh, ducking in.

"She is alive." Mycroft begins, "I've been around her. I've talked to her."

"When?" I ask. I don't trust him. He's tried to trick me before and he'll do it again.

"Yesterday." Mycroft frowned, "She was wounded."

"Mycroft?" I furrow my eyebrows, "Have you been drinking?"

"What- John!" Mycroft scowls, "I was there. I haw proof."

"I'm sure you do." I have to roll my eyes at this. Mycroft shakes his head, showing me his laptop. And I see her. He hair is all curly and Moriarty's hand is around her waist. That bastard. "We need to tell Sherlock-"

"No!" Mycroft snaps, "I don't even know where the beast hides. Sherlock will eventually give her up and delete her. It would be helpful if you encouraged it."

"You want me to help delete Alison from Sherlocks memory?" I gawk, "I'm not doing that. Not now. He needs to know."

"Look again." Mycroft gestures to his computer. I see Alison almost collapse. Moriarty's body shakes with laughter. Anger flows through me.

"I'm not deleting Alison for Sherlocks memory." I growl, "Let me out."

I'm back at twenty-two-one-b in three minutes on foot, seeing as I cut the meeting short.

"What did that bastard brother of mine say?" Sherlock calls.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Sherlock, I said it was nothing! Now eat something. You'll starve and die." I say bluntly, heading to the kitchen. When I open the fridge, I push aside the bag tongues to get to a left over sandwich. I warm up the food and slice up and apple, serving it Sherlock so he can ignore it.

"Aha!" Sherlock shouts, making me jump, "She was there. Look, look!" A man and a girl were standing outside of a large, fancy building. I watch the scene play out. The body guard gets stabbed, the girl screams and punches the man. I think it might be on instinct, but I do recognize the hair. It is Alison. I have to make sure Sherlock doesn't obsess over this.

"It's not her. It might just be some psychotic couple running around stabbing people to get into dances." I scoff, taking Sherlocks ignored sandwich and eating it.

"It is her, look at her hands as she punched James. She's punched me before. I know it's her." Sherlock sounds... crazy.

"Sherlock, get some sleep. I'm going to call Mary and see if she can watch you for a few hours." I sigh. I dial Molly's number and she picks up on the third ring.

"Molly Hooper."

"Molly. I need you to watch Sherlock while I go... out." I say.

"I'll be there in ten." She laughs airily, "And John?"

"Hm?"

"Don't let Sherlock out of your sight. He gets bad when people aren't around."

"Okay." I hang up and turn to Sherlock, who's now hacking into all the street cameras. Sure enough, ten minutes later, the one and only Molly Hopper is here. I kiss her cheek in thanks before rushing out.

How do you tell your best friend that his new friend is alive but he can't look for her? How the hell does one do that? I walk for a while before coming home. Mary isn't there. I check in the kitchen and see a note.

'No groceries. Went out. XOXO'

She might be off shooting people in the chest or she might be out buying carrots. I don't care. As long as she is happy.

"John!" I hear the door unlock, "I'm home!"

"Welcome." I say, distracted from my thoughts.

"John? Honey, what's wrong?" She drops some grocery bags on the floor and walks up to me, rubbing my back.

"I found something out and I don't know how to tell Sherlock." I sigh.

"Just tell him flat out." Mary shrugs.

"But he has to promise not to look into the thing." I groan, "I don't know what to do, Mary."

"Do nothing." She kisses my cheek, "Will you please help me out with my groceries?"

You Can't Choose Your FriendsWhere stories live. Discover now