The Aftermath of it All

This is a fanfiction for the show, "Sherlock" on BBC. Takes place after season 2, episode 3, aka the final released episode. Includes bits of my theory for Sherlock's death.

Rating may change later on.

Enjoy xx

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1. Chapter I, part I

It's been 2 weeks since... The incident. 2 drawn out, absolutely dreadful, hideous weeks, to be blunt. John sat in Mrs. Hudson’s flat; the exact spot he had been in for the past four hours, staring at the ornate wall across from him. Fortunately for his well being, her wall had a different florid pattern than the one of his-- and the late Sherlock's-- flat. Mrs. Hudson called to him for the 3rd time, her voice ringing in a high octave from her kitchen. John responded by sinking deeper into the cosy couch. Sighing, she made her way into the living room where he was.

“I’ve made tea, John.” He didn’t avert his eyes at all. “I’ve made tea.” She repeated, louder. He barely made a grunting-like noise in response. She sighed and set the platter in front of him. “One scoop of sugar, or two?” She asked, though she was already putting sugar in a cup, knowing he wouldn’t answer anyway. She highly doubted he’d even take a sip, but she wanted to be hospitable. She paused, looking at him sympathetically, then walked over and carried on with fixing her a cup in the other room. Miraculously, she heard the clanging of a cup being moved in the living room. “At least he’s not dead...” She muttered, taking a sip of her own cup. In an attempt to make conversation, she called to the lump on the couch in the other room. “So, have you made any progress with cleaning out your flat?”

“No.” She was astonished to hear a voice coming from him, so sure he’d been dumbed by shock.

“Oh.” She sighed. “Are you planning on making any progress in the next week?

No response.

“Well... Would you want me to get you help? So you don’t have to...” She trailed off, knowing John knew what she meant.

“You’d be a saint.” He whispered, picking up his cup to his mouth again. Mrs. Hudson nodded, then rushed off to find someone fit for the job. John sat there in silence, one lone thing on his mind. The same thing that’s been on his mind for the past two weeks.

    Sherlock.

 

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