Human (BBC Sherlock)

The Predicament

"It obviously means your 'friend' has left some gaps regarding information on her past, and if Mycroft is suspicious of it, it's likely something he assumes is criminal."

"Criminal?" John blinked, "Isabelle's not a criminal. She's just always been-"

"What about those years you spent in Afghanistan," Sherlock had now stopped his experimenting and straightened himself as he looked over to John. "You didn't keep in touch very often. A letter, occasional e-mails, but she was wrapped up in her own personal problems while you were away that you don't know the exact details of, am I wrong?"

"I know enough. I didn't press the matter." John answered defensively. "She was hurt, Sherlock. Something I wouldn't expect you to understand, but that she knows more strongly than most people ever will."

There was a harsh edge to John's voice in that statement that made Sherlock stare back at him in silence. Clearly the bond between them was something much stronger than what he had previously assumed. But still, the facts simply didn't line up with what he already knew about her.

John sighed after Sherlock's hesitance to respond. "All I know is, she worked at a cafe for some time when we were in school, and was becoming a Biology teacher when she graduated university." He paused for a brief instance, his mind drifting back to his strongest memories of Isabelle when they were younger. "She was...thrilled to get started. Ready to turn her life around."

She had always hidden the pain behind her past so well from the rest of the world, except when it came to John. The two had met in tenth grade; John had seen her sitting by herself in a far corner of the library and gone to join her; he had seen her passing through the halls on multiple occasions but had never said hello. It was when he sat down across from her at the small table when he noticed why she was alone. Her hair draped around her face as she stared hard into a physiology book, her eyes pooled with tears.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, thank you."

"You don't look it.”

"...I'm sorry, I don't think I know you and I’d rather just be--"

“John Watson." He held out a hand to her, a kind smile marking his face. "Now you know me."

The girl looked up to meet his eyes, and a tiny smile tempted to creep up on the corners of her lips when she did so. Surprised by his actions, she took his hand in return. "...I-Isabelle. Isabelle Adkins."

Their friendship had soared from there, and over time she and John had come to realize how special their relationship truly was. It had only started with John, for reasons beyond his own understanding, wanted nothing more than to help her, but quickly turned into something more than that. Whether it was one carrying the other one home when they were both drunk after nights out or just being a source of company, the two were pretty much inseparable. Their friends in university would rarely see one without the other.

That was, at least, until John stumbled into a scene that revealed the depths of what he knew was her distraught emotional state. She had always confided in him with her struggles with anxiety and depression, something she’d dealt with since she was a child, and without a model family to guide her John was all she’d had to help her get on the right track. But he hadn't been as successful as he’d been made to believe.

“Where’s that pretty lass you’ve usually got stuck to your side, mate?”

“I—she’ll be here soon.” John smiled rather unconvincingly, and the bartender only nodded in reply as he placed another drink in front of the young man. In truth, John had no idea where Isabelle was, or why she’d been ignoring his texts asking when she’d show. He was beginning to get worried. What was worse, he had news he’d needed to give her, which was already enough burden on his mind.