It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

11 - From Murder Cases To More Thieves

A/N: Thank you for almost 600 reads ^-^ much appreciated - hope you are all enjoying the story!

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"Sherlock? Elizabeth?" John called as he walked into the flat, curious as to their whereabouts.

"In here, John." Sherlock called from the kitchen.

When he walked in, John would have seen all of Sherlock's science equipment laid out on the kitchen table - as expected - and him operating on what appeared to be a person's heart. Mildly disturbed - as always - by what he was seeing, his eyes begged the question and Sherlock answered as if he could sense it.

"Testing how long it takes a heart to stop after different amounts of a neuromuscular blocking agent."

John just gave a small nod, "And Elizabeth?"

Sherlock looked up from his small experiment, "In the fridge."

"What!?"

"Kidding." Sherlock said with a small smile.

This earned a small glare from his friend. John couldn't help it - Sherlock was always so serious when saying some things.

"She is in my room. Where she has always been."

"Well...is she okay? Are we all okay? Is everything good?" John prompted.

"As well as it can be, John. She is still grieving as anyone can imagine."

"And are you - okay?"

The detective gave a small nod before returning to his experiment. John just inhaled before heading over to the kitchen counter to make some tea. Elizabeth walked in at this point, which John was relieved to see (proof of life, you know), and sat down opposite Sherlock, grimacing when she realised he had a beating heart on the table.

"You really do have some weird pastime activities."

"It's interesting." Sherlock defended.

"It's weird." She countered.

"Interesting."

"Weird."

"I second that." John interjected with a small smile, "How are you, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shrugged. Her eyes were noticeably a bit swollen and red from crying earlier. After her conversation with Sherlock and essential breakdown, she retired to his room and just slept mainly. Emerging a few times, she was offered tea from Sherlock or Sherlock would occasionally knock on his door to find out if she wanted anything. She had noticed that he just generally cared for her and maybe that was just so he could rebuild the bridge for more information about the network but either way, she appreciated it. He was giving her time to mourn. Time that was needed.

"Alright. What's not alright is a certain detective forgetting to tell you about the bullet wound on his upper arm." She tilted her head at Sherlock.

The detective merely went straight back to his experiment but it was right at the point that the heart stopped.

"Even the heart thought your wellbeing is more important," She gave a small smile, "But seriously, I suggest you take a look, John."

"Snitch." Sherlock muttered.

"Oh, please."

"Sherlock, let me see." John instructed his friend.

With a sigh, Sherlock removed his blazer and - very carefully, very slowly - rolled his shirt sleeve up so John could see the simple bandage that Elizabeth had fashioned for the injury. The doctor removed the bandage and gently prodded at the area around it. Sherlock notably gritted his teeth and inhaled sharply.