Sherlock sipped his tea.
“Lacerations all over the hands, arms, and back of torso. Emotional attachments to objects. Serious parental deficiency.”
John reviewed his notes in a whisper while Sherlock played the violin very loudly and obnoxiously, trying to figure out the chords to the Doctor Who theme song and failing miserably. After around thirty crumpled pieces of sheet music and a very grumpy detective, John looked up to see Sherlock bent over the coffee table, looking lost in thought. Upon closer inspection, however, it just revealed Sherlock had fallen asleep.
Coffee high has worn off. Five, four, three, two, one....
Sherlock jolted awake and began to write furiously on one of the sheets of music. He started to play, and John blocked out the sound. After a while, the blogger wondered why it was so quiet, and he looked up to see Sherlock facing the window.
“Sherlock.”
No response.
“Sherlock!”
No response.
“SHERLOCK!”
Nada.
John got up and tapped his flatmate on the shoulder. “Sherlock?”
The detective instantly awoke and grabbed John by the shoulders. “Rabbits!”
“Rabbits?”
Sherlock began to hum the Monty Python theme music and didn’t reply.
John concluded he was tired, so he helped Sherlock into his room where the exhausted detective flopped onto the bed halfway and instantly fell asleep. John left him there and continued looking into the two girls.
John booted up his computer and brought up a search bar.
James and Heather Helmsbroad. He only knew their names because of Sherlock’s rambling. When Sherlock had burst into the flat last night, he seemed terrified. Not for himself, but for John. He had said that he heard gunshots after Tresa said something like ‘do it’ and he thought that Moon had shot him. He then ended up wandering around the flat, mumbling to himself about things John couldn’t understand.
The first thing he found was a police article. It basically said that they had died in a car accident. He looked around a bit more and noticed something. There was nothing about the girls. He knew that they were using fake names, but there wasn’t even anything about James and Heather adopting them. Weird. A loud crash caused John to jump. It came from Sherlock’s room. Putting down his computer, he slowly opened Sherlock’s door to find him on the ground
“Sherlock? Are you alright?” He asked. Sherlock just groaned. John sighed and went inside, grabbing his flatmate by the shoulders and helping him back into bed. Sherlock was stupid when he was tired. As he started to walk away, Sherlock grabbed his arm.
“John.”
“Yes?”
“Call Moon. Tell her that they should go to the police.”
“Why? I really don’t want to talk to them, Moon might pull a gun on me again.” John protested.
“Fine. Don’t. But if they show up here, wake me up.” He grumbled, rolling over and falling back asleep. John rolled his eyes and went back into the living room.
The night passed without Sherlock waking up, John leaving his computer, or the two girls showing up at their door demanding blood. In short, it was a fairly normal night.
But the night had just begun for the two girls.
* * *
YOU ARE READING
Breaking Point
FanfictionThis is a Sherlock Fanfiction by WhovianNinja and KindlingDragonsFire (We do not own Sherlock by any means) Sherlock and John are on a case, like any other day. But this one, this one is special. Two girls are the supposed perpetrators behind it, a...
