The Consulting Detective and His Blogger

Back to Baker Street

Sherlock's P.O.V.

"Boring!" I shout while walking through the doorway and slamming it once I'm inside. I run up the stairs and into the living throwing my coat, scarf and gloves onto the couch before sinking into my back leather chair to think.

I walk through the white double doors traveling up the large flight of stairs to a specific room. Once I am on the second floor a medium sized red dog approaches me with enthusiasm and excitement.

"Hello Redbeard!" Redbeard barks as a reply. My old friend still following my every move. Swiftly, I make my way down the beige painted hallway and linoleum floors to the end of the hall. Two double white doors with circular windows stand before me. I take a deep breath and push both of the doors open revealing a dusty room.
I have not visited this room in a while,there was no need to. The newest tab that has been opened was Magnussen but no need to worry about him now, he's already been taken care of. I enter the door way and scan the room. A boarded up room to my left that I never which to visit and or let out the spider within the padded walls, but now for information I might have to. The rest of the room is quite bland and filled with files that might be useful regarding Moriarty and his next move. The only thing I can deduce so far is that this is not the real James Moriarty but an impostor. Or maybe perhaps what we thought was the original Moriarty was actually the fake. But the latter is highly unlikely. I open the nearest cabinet to my right, empty, the one next to it, empty. I check every single cabinet which all are empty, except for one. The one closest to the boarded up room. The single file contains only one piece of printer paper. "IOU" is all that is scribbled on as if the persons hands were shaking. I hear banging from the boarded up room.

"Sherlock! Sherlock!"

I snap open my eyes a bit irritated that someone interrupted me."John." I breathe out with a little more emotion than expected.

"Sherlock,"he stutters.
Why was he stuttering? Is he nervous? He was no reason so be. I look him up and down soaking in every little detail of my former blogger. I stop and notice his left, shaky hand gripping a short metal cane. He has lost weight. Not from working out but from lack of nutrients. He hasn't been eating much. I stare in awe down at him until he starts to talk to me and I am snapped of my trance like state.
"Anything new on Moriarty?"
"Uhh umm no. He hasn't shown up since last week."
"I guess that's good news."
"Yes, umm I-"
"Sherlock?"
"Yes, John?"
"Your inbox is quite full and I wanted you to pick one. For us to solve, together."
"But what about Mary? And the baby. It could come any day now and your limp, your very mal nourished and-"
"Sherlock. Pick one. Please Sherlock ."
"No. Your-"
"For me."
"Yes.