Goodbye, Sherlock

Chapter 13

Goodbye, Sherlock.

Chapter 13.

A new Holmes.

John's POV.

Sherlock Holmes was sleeping in my bed. I looked at the clock. He had been there for hours now. I looked at him again. His blonde hair was strange. It didn't fit him. I missed those chocolate curls.

He seemed calmed.

I wasn't.

My heart ached and I felt like I couldn't breath.

Sherlock Holmes. On my bed. Sleeping, of course.

I couldn't even imagine how those years had been for him. I had seen him sad, when Irene Adler died, but he wasn't sad this morning. He was high.

He was fucking high.

He had thought that that was probably the best idea. Just... instead of going visit Mrs. Hudson, or look for his brother, or even solve crimes... he thought that getting high and sleep in the street was better.

I tried to calm down.

He was here. High, blonde, and probably with hangover... but here.

And I couldn't wait to see his eyes again. I was to impatient.

So I decided to go for a coffee.

***

The woman in the cafe next to my hotel was pretty. She had big green eyes and curly black hair.

She smiled at me.

"Do you want something, sir?"

"I'd like a coffee. Black, no sugar."

"Okay sir. It'll be ready in a few minutes."

I nodded and payed.

If Sherlock wasn't sleeping in my room I would have probably tried to get the girl's phone number, but I couldn't think of that in that moment. All my thoughts were with the man sleeping in my room.

"Here you have your coffee, sir." She said smiling. I smiled back.

I started drinking my coffee. I was trying to be as fast as I could so I would go back to my room, but my phone started vibrating. At first I hope it was Sherlock calling, but it was impossible since I had changed my phone number.

It could only be one person.

"Hi Mycroft." I said. He probably knew by then that I was with Sherlock.

"Hi, John. How are you?"

"Mmm... fine. I'm drinking an awful coffee, but..."

"You should drink tea, instead. So, how are things going?"

"Uuuhm... fine. I miss home, though."

"You can go back to Baker Street if you want."

"You know I can't."

There was a moment of silence. Then he finally asked:

"So... how did it go? With that man?"

"Wha-what man?"

"The man that was with you. The one that went into your hotel room. Wearing your jacket."

"Oh..." He didn't know it was Sherlock. Which was good, since I needed some time.

"Well, if you want the details I can say that..." I started with a teasing voice.

"Of course not! It was a way to start a conversation, for God's sake! I have to go. Bye, John."