You Left A Mark - A Johnlock Soulmate AU

25

Knowing Lestrade would have the husband in for questioning as soon as possible, Sherlock decided to take John to his favourite fish and chip shop.

"So they were both murdered then,"
"You said it yourself John, however I don't think it was by a single person."
"So why do you want to question the husband?"
"As I said, he should know their connection and we can work from there."

Both men ate in silence, appreciating the calm and stress free atmosphere surrounding them. John realised he hasn't felt this calm around Sherlock since he found out he was his soulmate. Once this realisation hit, John fell down a rabbit hole of thoughts again. His head filled with everything his father ever said about Harry and he no longer felt calm. He began to panic again. Excusing himself he went to the toilet and hoped Sherlock hadn't noticed his change in attitude.

Sherlock had noticed, but knew that trying to talk to John would lead to more discomfort for the doctor. But he wanted to comfort John, he had to right. It is what soulmates did. Then the realisation hit, soulmates. He'd been an idiot. He didn't need to talk to John, he can write to him. Sherlock proceeded to ask the staff if they had a pen he could borrow, luckily they did and didn't question him. Once he had sat back down, he wrote -"Are you alright?"- and proceeded to wait.

Whilst John was sat having a breakdown, he noticed the handwriting appearing on his arm. He didn't need this now. But it wouldn't escape his mind once he noticed it. He knew Sherlock was just trying to talk to him, but he couldn't handle this right now. He couldn't even write back, he didn't have a pen so he'd have to talk to Sherlock about it. He was a soldier for christ sakes and he's hiding from a lanky, unsociable detective. Deciding to bite the bullet, John leaves the stall and heads back to the table.

Expecting many questions from Sherlock, he braces himself. Instead he's handed a pen. Then he realises what Sherlock's doing, so whilst avoiding eye contact he takes the pen. John begins to write, -"No, not really"-. Sherlock immediately checks his arm, and motions for the pen. As soon as he's handed it, he's scrawling on his arm -"It's about being gay isn't it?"-. John is once again handed the pen as he reads his arm. He takes a deep breath and writes -"Yeah, it's got nothing to do with you though"-, this time Sherlock's staring directly at him as he hands the pen over. The eye contact was brief but enough for John to realise that this man isn't judging a word he writes. Sherlock is once again scribbling on his arm, -"I know ; ) but you don't need to let it control your life."-, and there's the proof, Sherlock Holmes is actually human. He's just a compassionate man hiding behind the shell of an uncaring sociopath. John can't help but to smile at Sherlock's response. However as he is handed the pen, Sherlock's phone rings. Assuming it's Greg, John takes a moment to relax and he notices everyone in the shop avert their gaze from his. They were watching their interaction, probably assuming it was some cute couple thing or two friends taking turns writing to their soulmates. Despite running through every possibility, John doesn't panic this time. The idea of being Sherlock's soulmate doesn't overwhelm him.

"Come on John, Gerald's got the husband. We need to go now before his idiotic team ruin my chance."

Sherlock was practically jumping over their table, but despite his rush he still gave the pen back to the counter staff.

Arriving at the house of Jay Irwin, both mean headed inside. Sherlock inspected everything he could as they made their way to where Lestrade had the man, which was quite obviously his dining room. The room was a small one, Sherlock guessed it was the Yard's best attempt at a DIY interrogation room, it was very minimilistic. The lack of possesions made it difficult for Sherlock to paint a full picture of the couple in his mind, but one thing stuck out, there wasn't any photos of the couple. The minute Sherlock saw him, his suspicions grew. He didn't know why, which frustrated him.

"You get 10 minutes Sherlock, I can't give you anymore," were Greg's last words as he left the room. Sherlock began his questions.

"I'm assuming you know your wife has been murdered."
"Yes."
"You seem very calm about this Mr. Irwin."
"I guess the shock hasn't worn off yet," Irwin laughed nervously.

"Do you know a Francis Hinton?"

"No."

"Liar." Sherlock stated. Irwin seemed to squirm under Sherlock's gaze, now looking anywhere but the detective.

"What was the connection between your wife and Francis?"

"Nothing, I don't know who you're talking about," Irwin's hands started to tremble.

"The truth would be appreciated Mr. Irwin," Sherlock was pounding this man, not with questions but with his glare. He acted like he knew everything that Irwin was going to say before he said it.

"I'll ask again Mr.Irwin. What was the connection between your wife and Francis Hinton?"
"She was having an affair alright," Iriwn snapped, "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Oh, it most definitely was." Sherlock did a lap around Irwin, analysing him. His eyes had a predatory look about them, he had his prey where he wanted it.

"Why did they die Mr.Irwin?" It was now that Sherlock swung a spare chair around and sat opposite Irwin. John stood to the side, amazed at the skill of the detective.

"I didn't think they'd do it, oh god I owe them so much." It was now the man broke, but Sherlock wasn't done. He sat up a little straighter in his seat as he leant forward.

"Who?"

"These men I met in the pub, I was drunk. I'd just found out she was cheating on me. I went to drink, it helps," Sherlock scoffed at this, "I was ranting to the barman, and these two men must've overheard and came over. They seemed so supportive at first, they listened and gave their condolences. Then they started to get creepy, saying they knew a guy I could get in touch with to sort my troubles out," Sherlock interrupted, "And you just accepted?"

Irwin continued, "I was drunk, I wasn't thinking. Oh god, oh god."
"What happened next Mr.Irwin?"
"They put the number in my phone, they must've found mine as well because the next day I started getting these messages saying things like, "I can fix all your problems" and "Just give me the word and it'll go away"."

"And you trusted a voice on the other end of the line?"

"I must've still had alcohol in my system, I still wasn't thinking straight so I accepted the help. I didn't think they'd kill them, oh god."

At this point Sherlock had stood up and began circling Irwin again,

"What do you owe them?"
"Money, they messaged me again with a photo of what they did and a price. I can't pay them. They're going to kill me." Irwin now started crying but Sherlock clearly wasn't done.

"Mr. Irwin, I have one more question and the quicker you answer, the quicker I leave you to the police. Did this voice have a name?""A name?" Irwin looked up at Sherlock, "Moriarty." With that Sherlock left the room, his coat flowing behind him, John had to half jog to keep up with him.