A Case For Sherlock (Johnlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 2

Sherlock got out of the taxi looking at the scene, John and Mary's house. He had an inward sigh. "Take me to the room, John," Sherlock said, still looking up at the house.

"Sure." A shaky-voice John replied. Sherlock followed John, in the front door, up some stairs, and into a bedroom. "Here's the hypodermic syringe, I haven't touched it or moved it from its spot."

Sherlock walked around the room, looking for more clues, before coming back to the needle. Positioned on the bedside table, it made it obvious that the kidnapper wanted to toy with them. "Confident, then" Sherlock deduced. He clapped his hands together before smiling like a child. "This is AMAZING John! I just love these cocky people, so confident in themselves, it gives me an extra treat!" He spun around, facing the scene again.

"Someone! Grab the needle, it needs to go back to the lab to be tested for what drug was used. BE CAREFUL WITH IT!" He hollered as a young man fumbled with it. Sherlock turned to John suddenly. "John, what were you and Mary doing last night?"

"I-I'd rather not say..." said John, a faint shade of pink coming to his cheeks.

"John, what were you doing? It's necessary information to find your wife." The chill came over Sherlock again at the mention of the word.

"Surely you can make a deduction?" John was now a full shade of pink.

Sherlock looked around the room, more careful in absorbing all of the details this time. Closet open, clothes on the floor, messy bed sheets, lamp on, curtains closed... All normal, until... Stains on floor, underwear slid under the bed, teeth marks on the pillow, bags under John's eyes and bruises around his neck. "Ahhh." Sherlock hummed gently. "I see..."

John went even more pink than he thought was possible.

"You were wrestling... Am I right?" Sherlock glanced at John from where he was standing to see his reaction. John gave a look of surprise before trying to compose himself, and gave a stiff nod. Of course Sherlock knew what had really gone on last night, but he couldn't bring himself to even think about the fact, let alone say it. 

Sherlock left the room and carried on looking around the home. Where did the kidnapper get in and out? New house, should be fairly clean and the carpet should be relatively undisturbed, needs to be near an outer wall, of course, and there might be dirt and other things that wouldn't necessarily be in a new home. Bingo. The laundry door, no carpet, but the lino had mud stains and leaves that weren't from directly around here. Of course, it's a laundry, so there might be things from clothes after going on a walk, but that probably wasn't the case after a night of partying. 

Sherlock opened the door and stepped outside. Seriously. Does the kidnapper want to be discovered? There was a huge drag mark in the mud in the direction that Sherlock assumed was the place that Mary had been taken to. Thinking of nothing better to do, Sherlock started walking in the direction of the muddy track. He wandered for about 10 minutes before coming to a clearing in the middle of a forest located not too far from John's house. "Well... I've found Mary..." Sherlock whispered underneath his breath. Piled in the middle of the clearing were the remains of Mary's body. Someone had cut her and ripped her until the only thing left in-tact was her head, left on top of the pile of limbs and organs, staring, dead straight at Sherlock. 

Getting a sudden chill, he turned and quickly walked away to a tree, out of sight of the brutal scene. Getting out his phone, he quickly selected John and called him. 

"Hey, Sherlock." Sherlock heard John's shaky voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, John. I... I have some... News..." Sherlock hesitated, trying to pick his words more carefully than usual.

"Yes?" John's voice suddenly perked up.

"I've found Mary bu-"

"Oh my god. Where are you?!" John quickly interrupted.

"John. Listen to m-"

"NOT NOW SHERLOCK. WHERE. ARE. YOU." 

"JOHN! Listen to me." Sherlock quickly tried to calm his voice, but it had started to shake. Sherlock was worried, worried for John and how he was going to react. "John.."

"Sherlock?"

"She's... Gone..." Sherlock hesitated. "Dead."

"Ohmygod..."

"I don't know if you want to see it, but I suggest you stay where you are. I need you to stay calm and... Call the police" Sherlock managed to strangle out the last bit of the sentence. As little as he liked the police, he knew that he'd have to be near John to comfort him and stop him from doing anything stupid.

"Ohmygod. OHMYGOD SHERLOCK! SHERL-" The call was cut off suddenly, but Sherlock started hearing the nearing voice of John, yelling his name. Sherlock started running towards it, and only started yelling back when he was further away from the scene, and in a place where John wouldn't be able to find it. 

"JOHN? JOHN WHERE ARE YOU?" Sherlock started yelling back, hoping to be able to find John to try and keep him under control. 

"SHERLOCK! SHERLOCK! OH THERE YOU ARE! THANK GOD!" Sherlock looked and saw John running to his left. Sherlock changed direction, but quickly slowed down when he saw that John was... Smiling? Sherlock stopped completely but John kept on running until he was pressed up against Sherlock and practically hugging him. 

"John. Are you okay?" Sherlock was very confused. He took John gently by the shoulders and pushed him back.

"I'm better than okay! I'm amazing! Mary's dead! I can finally love you!" John was looking into Sherlock's eyes, the pupils dilated to an almost unbelievable size. 

Sherlock stopped. "Excuse me...?"

"I can love you, I've always loved you and now is my chance... OUR chance,  to finally, finally get together...!" John then started giggling like a little child.

"John. You need to get back to the house. We need to get you an ambulance, and Mary the police." Sherlock shuddered as the image of the pile of flesh came back to his mind. 

"Why do you care about Mary?! All you should care about is me, Sherlock, ME!" John started giggling, then laughing, then practically screaming with hysterics before crumpling into Sherlock's arms, completely out. Suddenly, everything clicked. John had been drugged, not Mary, making John... In love with him? So much to the point of wanting to get rid of Mary? Had John committed the murder? Sherlock tenderly took one of John's hands and looked under the nails. No blood, and plenty of dead skin... And dirt. So he was involved, but didn't commit the murder...

"Oh John..." Sherlock sighed. "What on earth is going to happen here...?" Sherlock felt confused and worried, and he didn't like it.