"When you say it like that, you make me sound like an idiot." John mumbled as he sighed looking at his friend.
"Yes well you are." Sherlock snapped unintentionally, his words harsh. Astounded by his own out burst at the man who had been by his side through everything, the detective bowed his head. "Normally when I say that it's less harsh...and with a hint of humor." Rising out of his chair he sighed. "I'm going to go talk to Lestrade and I would like it if you...joined me?"
"Well I have nothing else better to do." Pulling on his jacket over top of his jumper, the black leather shoulder guards defining the doctor's broad shoulders and wide chest. "He's back at the crime scene, he texted me this morning."
"Why did he text you instead of me?" Sherlock tipped his head to the side in question as he slipped into his woolen black belstaff coat, stormy gray eyes resting on his bloggers soft brown pair.
"Because you left Sherlock, in fact you ran from the scene to go meet that bastard who apparently is more important than a dead body." John sighed as he walked off towards the door without another word.
Tightening the dark navy blue scarf around his neck, the detective followed in silence, unsure of what to say to the other male. Clearly he was upset but he didn't know...how would he know...it was impossible for him to know.
As they reached the front door John stopped, hand on the doorknob, head bowed. "One more thing before we go, Sherlock." The doctor's voice quiet, his words laced with curiosity.
"What now?" Sherlock whined, clearly complaining about having to stop right before the entrance to the battlefield.
"I feel as though you're keeping something from me. A secret..."
"I'm not keeping anything from you John. " Pausing, the detective looked at the man whom he adored. The one who was so brave and loyal to him. He could taste the lie on his lips, the throb of regret. "I'll see if Jim will be as nice to provide a name as to who did this for him. Clearly he doesn't care about, otherwise he wouldn't have him carve his own initials into the flesh." It was one of the worst feelings to lie to his blogger.
"Alright..." Shaking his head John exited the building. So now the criminal was Jim. What was changing Sherlock? Something was off.
