10 - Tea & Toast & Treating Wounds

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There was a gentle knock at Sherlock's door the next morning with the detective stood outside as he waited for the thief to answer. A quiet 'yeah' emerged from behind the door and he opened it a small bit.

"What do you want, Sherlock?"

"Clothes. It's my room remember."

"Well, I'm not the one who chose to sleep in your room."

He had to admit that she had a point but he didn't reply with any smart arse comment - that's what John had instructed him not to do.

*Flashback*

Sherlock was up early that morning but he was actually being quiet about everything for once. John had appeared rather early as his shift at the GP Centre was for a little later that morning. John was surprised to even find the detective in the room, sat quietly in his chair with his hands steepled under his chin but had his eyes open. He wasn't in his Mind Palace at that time although a part of John expected him to be.

"What are - "

"Shush," Sherlock hissed, "She's still sleeping."

Frowning with disbelief and curiosity, John took his seat opposite the detective so he wouldn't have to speak as loud. Then, he just watched Sherlock for a moment.

"Since when were you so considerate about not waking people up?"

"Since I killed her friend." He replied monotonously.

John was taken aback by his statement. In some ways, yes, it was their fault - for getting Shaun involved - but actually killing him? John wouldn't go that far. Yes, it was a great tragedy but they hadn't pulled the trigger - Lord, they didn't even know that there was going to be a sniper on the roof opposite - so how Sherlock blamed himself really perplexed John. He was a man of logic but maybe Elizabeth's words had really got to him.

"How do you know you killed him? You specifically?"

Sherlock sort of shrugged, then looked to John, "I could have pushed them both to the ground but I didn't."

"It was a stressful moment, Sherlock. If you saw the sight on Elizabeth's back, what presumption were you to make? You gave everyone a decent warning to get down - if the sight was trained on Shaun then I'm sure you would have pushed him to the ground instead. At that moment, you saw there was more danger to Elizabeth than anyone else. What you did was logical."

"She still blames me though - "

"Sherlock, she was upset! Who else was there to blame - "

"Moriarty - "

"That was also in the room? That she could verbally accuse?"

It was human nature to blame someone, Sherlock thought, often the people in the room where the event took place. Even he knew that but her words really got to him. It didn't matter who got hurt so long as it wasn't anyone he cared about.

"How do I - apologise?"

Even if John said he shouldn't think himself responsible for Shaun's death, he still wanted to make amends - otherwise, she'd never work with them properly again. That and he genuinely felt bad for what happened.

"Just don't be a smart-arse about it."

With that, John got up from his chair and headed over to the coat-rack. It wouldn't fix it but perhaps it would begin building back that bridge.

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