For John Watson

[howdull]

[Sherlock is still finding pieces of the melted laptop in the carpet.

It had actually been quite an ingenious booby trap to be devised by a fourteen year old boy with only household chemicals to work with but, as Sherlock surmised, rather overkill to keep his mother from finding his extensive porn collection. Not one of their more illustrious cases, but it had been quite entertaining to watch both the boy and mother's faces as he revealed that he did know the how and why. He lost interest after the mother started shouting and John started shouting and the whole thing turned tedious.

He rather thinks John won't actually be doing a full write-up of this one on his blog.

It's been two days since their last case and he's beginning to get more than a little antsy. Lestrade has sent him nothing, just a boring hit and run that he refused to even leave the flat for, and nobody interesting has appeared through the blog. Said blog he is currently scrolling through on John's laptop, having borrowed it again.

He did ask, it's not his fault John hadn't been in the room at the time.]

Bored, John.

[He doesn't even know if his flatmate is even in, but that's hardly a necessity for him to actually speak to John. Frustrated, he throws the laptop across the room to hit the wall, where it summarily breaks. Which is where he can be found whenever John appears, sulking amidst pieces of laptop, both from the melted one of their last case and John's poor broken one.]

Comments

[jumpthegun]

[John just takes a breath and goes back to finishing up with the kettle, putting it on to boil for the tea.]

I know. [His voice is tight.] But she still died because of me. I'll get over it, Sherlock. [He probably won't, but he can pretend in the moment.] We've got more important things to think about.

[howdull]

Of course.

[He's had his moment of apology, of attempting comfort, and it's best to move on as quickly as possible.]

We only have a limited amount of time before Moriarty is inevitably released from custody, we ought to actively draw her out. The best way to do this will be using you as bait, be seen near the foster home of her son and she'll assume you have him.

[jumpthegun]

You... want me to just head out? Now?

[Tomorrow? Well, it's sort of tomorrow already, but it's still the middle of the night.]

[howdull]

Not yet, you can rest for an hour or so. She's unlikely to go and check on her son before dawn.

[And John needs to rest, or his body will simply give out on him and then he'll be of no use at all.]

[jumpthegun]

Mm... might hear back about the skin tests, too. [Maybe. He doubts they'll be that quick to check the tests. He'd wanted to get out of hospital, but looking at this flat, looking toward where Molly is, he's wondering if maybe they should have stayed. Or if he should have made her stay, at least. That cast on her arm... every part of him feels responsible for it, even if it had been Jim.]

Are you gonna sleep at all? We should take turns keeping watch, if you are.

[howdull]

I can function without sleep, John, you're less capable.

[He says it as if it's simple fact rather than an intended insult because, to him, it is.]

You and Molly rest, I will use that time to think. I'd rather not be caught unawares again.

[jumpthegun]

[John doesn't think much of that strategy, but he's not in a great position to protest. Instead, he just finishes with the tea. Offering Sherlock a cup silently and bringing one over to Molly before finding a place to settle that is the least physically painful for him, while simultaneously facing the door.]

Are there any weapons here I can hold?

[If Sherlock's going to be concerned about getting caught unawares...]

[howdull]

Knives in the kitchen drawer, cricket bat in the hall cupboard, take your pick.

[He hesitates a moment.]

Though I'd advise you wear gloves with whatever you choose, I would imagine both items have been used to commit crimes in the past and it might not be wise to have your fingerprints on them.

[jumpthegun]

[John gives him a Look. Why are you like this, Sherlock? The doctor pushes himself up again and goes rifling in the kitchen for anything resembling gloves. He comes up with the rubber kind for washing and they look like they've seen far too much use. Still. He grimaces as he pulls those on and goes to fetch the cricket bat.

It might be necessary to incapacitate Caroline Matthews, and if and when that happens, John would really prefer her son not be witness to a strange man stabbing his mother. Braining her isn't a lot better, but it will be easier and extends his reach considerably.]

All right, Molly?

[Molly looks up and over from where she's been sipping her tea and offers a nervous smile.] Yeah.

[John knows she's not.] We'll get this sorted. Just try to sleep, okay? [He's going to... close his eyes, at least, and listen. If nothing comes, though, exhaustion will catch up with him and pull John down into sleep.]

[howdull]

[For once, the world is kind and allows John to sleep, to recharge his poor damaged body and mind without interruption. Molly also sleeps, she tried for a while to engage Sherlock in conversation but he basically ignored her, so she retreated to nurse her wounded pride and rest.

Sherlock doesn't sleep, he has far too much to think about, but he's not paying much attention to their surroundings. He's trying to work out how Moriarty has managed to be two steps ahead every time, how he got the military on side, and how they're going to properly neutralise him as a threat.

It's not until the sun is well up, far past when he wanted to be putting their plan into action, when he realises the time and irritably shakes John by the shoulder.]

Hurry up, you're late.

[jumpthegun]

[John comes awake to an explosion of pain. Why did it have to be the shoulder? He cries out, the sound strangled, before he grabs for Sherlock's arm and tries to twist it away.]

[howdull]

[John is combat trained and reacting on instinct, which means that he's more than fast enough to grab and twist Sherlock's arm.]

It's me, John.

[He doesn't try to pull away, that would likely only lead to a fight.]

[jumpthegun]

Bloody... [John lets him go, gritting his teeth.] I know it's you. That hurt. [And he feels just a little unwell in spite of the sleep. He's not going to mention that as he pushes himself up and looks around. It's a long moment before John can even remember where he is or what they talked about last night. Molly and the boy. He needs to... right.]

Where am I going?

[howdull]

[Molly stirs awake with the noise that they're both making, blinking sleeping and looking from one to the other with concern.]

Have either of you actually slept?

[Sherlock rolls his eyes and ignores her.]

Kimler Road, take the Jubilee Line for three stops, turn right, then it's the fourth turn on your left.

[jumpthegun]

I did. He didn't. [Because it's polite to answer people's questions, Sherlock.] I'll be back in a bit. What should I do there... just stand around looking for a bit? Wait 'til I see her.

[Mentally, he's repeating the directions to himself and patting himself down to look for a notepad and pen that aren't there to take notes.]

[howdull]

You might not see her. If you do, then you can leave at once, if not then wait until eight thirty before leaving. That's after the school start time, so she'd no longer come via the house to see her son.

[Molly pushes off the sofa, running her tongue over teeth that feel gritty after sleeping.]

I'll come with you, you shouldn't go on your own.

[jumpthegun]

Molly, you're injured. Might be better for you to stay here.

[So sayeth John Watson, the picture of health and vitality.]

Maybe help Sherlock look after... um... what was her son's name again?

[howdull]

Steve.

[Sherlock replies, which isn't the name he gave before. But names are boring and hardly worth remembering, he likely gave the wrong one last time as well.]

I'm capable of babysitting a child alone, John, how hard can it be?

[jumpthegun]

[John suspects he's going to just need to ask the kid that question with Sherlock's track record and his own memory. Jake the Cellist is currently the only name sticking in his mind for the random people he's met in the last few weeks.]

Have you fed him? Something that isn't complete garbage?

[You must feed and water your children, Sherlock.]

And kids are like puppies. They do need attention when they're not sleeping.

[howdull]

[Sherlock rolls his eyes as if John is saying obvious things; of course, his definition of paying attention and what the child actually needs are likely to be totally different things.]

It's childcare, John. Thousands of utter morons manage every day, it can't be at all difficult, now will you go?

[jumpthegun]

Thousands of utter morons cock it up everyday... [That's muttered darkly, mostly to himself. It seems like this is an argument that isn't going to be won, though. And Molly's coming with him. John rubs a hand carefully over his face.]

Fine. When he wakes up properly, feed him something with protein in it, please. Fruit, as well.

Molls, you ready?

[He'll wait for her to confirm before heading out.]

How's the battery on your phone doing? Might want to take a picture of this place so we can find it again.

[gallowshumour]

[Molly has faith in Sherlock to be capable. She knows that other people think she has a blind spot where he's concerned, but she's seen that there's a good man inside that cares, so he won't let anything happen to a helpless child in his care.

At least her arm aches a bit less this morning, but she's worried about John. He's looking worse, not better, and this day won't be any easier if it's where the final confrontation to Caroline will take place. So she has a determined set to her jaw, ready to protect him if she needs to.]

Oh-- right, good idea, I can do that.

[She fishes her phone out and awkwardly takes a photo, shoving it back on her pocket to continue on with him.]

Did you get much sleep? You look-- you still look tired.

[jumpthegun]

[He did sleep, and that's what's more concerning, personally, to him. John's not going to mention as much to her. He just offers a smile.]

Not as much as I would've liked. Think it's time to admit I'm not as young as I used to be. Floor's not the most comfortable place. You sleep all right?

[John leads their way on the course Sherlock set them. He's mentally repeating the instructions in his head just to keep them straight. Kimler Road. Kimler Road. Jubilee Line to Kimler Road.]

[gallowshumour]

Yeah, I slept fine. The painkillers have worn off, but my arm doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would, so there's no need to worry about me.

[Eesh, even she can tell that's overly chipper, she's trying to compensate for the worry she's feeling over John and she went too far. She clears her throat and modulates her voice to a slightly more appropriate level.]

So, I don't suppose you have an Oyster card on you?

[jumpthegun]

[They're both very bad at lying to each other... John's not going to call her on it, though. Instead, he's going to stop, close his eyes and sigh wearily.]

No. I haven't got any money, either.

[And they don't have the time to stop off at the bank. John has gone more than a week now living on charity and it's grating on his last nerve again. He tries to keep his calm for Molly's sake. He'll pay everyone back. Every last dime if he has to take part-time job at a fish and chips stand when this is over, for Christ's sake.]

D'you?