Big Ben Strikes The Eleventh Hour (Wholock)

Research For John

For the next few days, John was silent, and unresponsive. It  drove Sherlock up the wall, as he did really want to help his friend, even if he'll never admit it. John has helped him so many times, and Sherlock realized he had been kind of a arse to him.

However, he couldn't talk to John, because ever since John realized he was an alien, he had shut down.

He wouldn't talk to anyone, he wouldn't do anything, he wouldn't even tell Sherlock off for his drugs. Well, he would, but not with his usual convection. Sherlock was getting worried.

Even Miss. Hudson couldn't get him to talk. And when she asked Sherlock what was going on they had this awkward conversation:

"Er, Sherlock, do you know what's wrong with John?"

"Yeah, he's an alien."

"That isn't very nice, Sherlock."

"..."

"Oh, you're serious."

"Yep."

"...Well, was he always an alien, or did another alien come to pose as him?"

"He was always an alien."

"Well, tell him that he's still the same John we know and love for me, okay."

"Okay. Also, the kitchen has gotten rather-"

"Not your house keeper, dear!"

Sherlock told John a few minutes later, but was met with silence, as per usual these days.

Even when the Doctor, Amy and Rory came by he wouldn't talk, or make any expressions. He just stared ahead with his eyes glazed over.

However, they weren't completely stuck. Sometimes when the Doctor came over, he would bring substances from other worlds. Sherlock studied them, and then the two of them would talk and share their research. It was one of the only times the two of them really set aside their aloofness and childishness and were just two genius' trying to find an answer to a question in Sherlock's kitchen. 

Sherlock had noticed that John sometimes came into the kitchen while he was working, but whenever he or the Doctor talked to him, he would leave. Eventually, they just ignored him, and let him stay.

So far, they hadn't found a match to John, but the Doctor was sure they were close. If the TARDIS could recognize it, then they could find it, is what he told them. They weren't reassured. 

Today was officially the second week after they got back from the Fremde affair. And it had been two weeks since John discovered he was an alien. It had also been two weeks of trying to talk to John. Two long weeks of Sherlock not having his best blogger and companion by his side.

Well, not anymore. Today Sherlock would change that, and John would go back to normal. Sherlock just had to get him to talk...

Sherlock went up to John's room, and knocked firmly on it. Then he stepped back and waited.

The door opened, and John peeked out. He watched Sherlock, and waited for him to speak.

Unfortunately, though, that was not good enough for Sherlock. The detective wrenched the door open and stepped in John's room. John, surprised, stepped back.

Sherlock stepped into his friends room, and crossed his arms, giving John a disapproving look. John glared at him. Well, at least he was showing emotion for once.

Sherlock and John stared at each other, both angry, but neither speaking. It wasn't until five minutes passed that Sherlock realized this might not be the best strategy. 

So, he relented, and John's face changed to one of surprise.

"Er, look," Sherlock told him. "I'm not going to do anything, not tricks, no riddles, just talking, and, um."

Sherlock paused, looking down at some scribbles on his hand.

"Fr...lendsnip?"

Sherlock sighed and looked up, certain he did it wrong, but he was surprised to see John holding his hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh. Sherlock tried to grin at him, like he had tried to mess up. Honestly, he didn't like anyone laughing at him, but with John it was... okay.

John finished his laughter, and looked up at Sherlock with a smile. He said the first word he had said in two weeks.

"Thanks, Sherlock."