literature

SH: 6 Feet Above Ground Ch. 2

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“The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street” John was staring at the familiar door that was once his home, the crooked door knocker, the scuffs from multiple nut jobs they had often encounters with. He unlocked the door shakily, his stomach full of butterflies worried of what Mrs Hudson would think of him after leaving her for so long, he hesitated and let a nervous sigh and finally walked in slowly and froze. The nostalgic scent reached his nose, he sighed and took another step only to yet again hear the echoes of Sherlock’s violin he closed his eyes and let the nostalgia take him for a moment. He didn’t know how long he was standing there for but he was interrupted by a sweet and gentle voice “John?” John opened his eyes to see Mrs Hudson standing in the kitchen door, with her same old fashioned dresses and her just greying hair and her gentle eyes “hello Mrs Hudson, how are you?”.

They stood there staring at each other for a moment until finally, Mrs Hudson’s eyes welled up and she came rushing to him embracing him in a tight hug, John having the life being squeezed out of him. She held him there for a good few minutes before pulling back with a scowl “John Watson, where have you been, not even a call for two years, after everything we went…” her voice broke off, her eyes welling up again. John felt a stab of guilt, how could he leave their lovely land lady for so long, the woman who seemed like their adopted grandmother “sorry Mrs Hudson, I just, I just found it hard to come back here and deal with anything that linked to…” John swallowed heavily, Mrs Hudson just smiled at him and brought him into the kitchen and put on the kettle.

John and Mrs Hudson had been talking for a few good hours before John decided to go visit his old flat, “John, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Mrs Hudson’s concern was clear but this is something he had to do, it had been too long, John merely gave a reassuring smile in which she returned then they started up the familiar stairs. The room was full of dust and was quite stagnant from the lack of aeration but John inhaled the familiar scent and took in every bit of the home he once lived in, he took a step forward and looked at Sherlock’s old chair, his untouched violin sitting on top of it. The muted violin sitting on his friends chair was too much for John to handle, he became light headed and lost his balance falling next to his old chair “John!” Mrs Hudson ran to his side, helping him into the chair he spent so much time in listening to cases “I’ll get you a glass of water, you just sit there”. Mrs Hudson brought the glass over, in which John raised it to his forehead to feel the cold condensation on his overheated brow, Mrs Hudson looked over at the kitchen again where all the same chemistry equipment still sat. She let out a sigh “he hated me dusting, I couldn’t bare letting the room out, so I left everything as was, and just got rid of the decomposing body parts” she shuddered as the thought revisited her, John smirked at the memories of finding god knows what and where.

After a few sips of the water and feeling like he could walk again, he set the glass down and stood up, taking a few moments to look around the flat one more time, not daring to move until he was sure he wouldn’t collapse again, though he was still shaking slightly. He took one last look at Sherlock’s chair and closed his eyes picturing the detective sitting there, until a voice brought him to his senses “John?” Mrs Hudson was looking at him with a concerned look, he opened his eyes and smiled “I think I should be off now Mrs Hudson, thank you for the tea, don’t worry I will be back” he stood up and gave her a peck on the cheek “alright dear, but you better be or you’ll be sorry” she said with a smirk, John gave her one last hug before opening the door into the dark cool night.

He took a deep breath before he took a step, but hadn’t even taken five steps before a familiar black car pulled up in front of 221B, John sighed and got into the car only to see Mycroft himself, which was odd. He looked at the older Holmes brother for a second before Mycroft sighed with a grin “come John, get in, it’s far too cold to be standing there like that” John sighed and finally got into the car sitting across from Mycroft. The two men sat quietly for a few moments before John spoke “what is it Mycroft? It’s been two years since you contacted me, and since when are you the one in the car?” Mycroft smiled and then became serious “John, there is a serious matter in which I needed to speak with you personally and alone, and I couldn’t afford you to refuse either, so I planned a little car trip”. Mycroft paused before continuing “I request that you to stay at 221B Baker Street for a few days John, it is of utmost importance” he finished and John’s face went white, he stuttered before speaking words that actually made sense “I-I can’t Mycroft…h-he isn’t there and I…” he was interrupted by a stern order “No I know John, but you will, as I said, it is of utmost importance that you stay at 221b”. The car stopped “John, we will be keeping an eye on you” he said this whilst gesturing to the door, John opened it and reluctantly got out, “Mycroft, what is going on? Has something happened?” he asked before closing the door “all in good time Dr. Watson” he closed the door and watched the car drive off.

John laid in his old bed, feeling none too comfortable being back in his old flat, the memories getting stronger as if they were actually happening right before his eyes. “Listen, what I said before John. I meant it” John pulled the duvet over his head trying to block out his words “I don’t have friends, I’ve just got one”. He scrunched into a fetal position and tried to focus on the light patter of the rain on the window and the low rumble of thunder, waiting for sleep to take him.
That night he dreamt of Sherlock and their cases, the hound of Baskerville, the pink lady, every case they worked on together, and the moments they spent in the flat, “gottle o gear, gottle o gear” memories of Moriarty and the night at the pool started flowing through his dreams. John saw Moriarty’s hands over Sherlock’s shoulders in something like a hug, he was whispering in Sherlock’s ear, the next minute he knew he saw Sherlock falling from the top of Barts hospital again, his scream echoing as he screamed his name.

He awoke the next morning with the knocking from the confused Mrs Hudson from last night with a cup of tea “how did you sleep dear? I brought you some tea to help you feel better” John sat up groggily, and shut his eyes tight to block the harsh morning sun causing his growing migraine to worsen “thank you Mrs Hudson, but I feel fine” she smiled and shuffled out the door. John barely got one sip of his tea before he heard his phone beep:

Don’t leave the flat today please Dr Watson.
M


John didn’t know what was going on but he knew better than to go against what Mycroft wanted, but he was oblivious to what had him so strict on John all of a sudden, especially after two years. He sighed “so much for a walk to clear my head” with a sigh he reached for the morning paper Mrs Hudson had left on his side table and started to read, hoping it may take his mind off of his throbbing head.
Ok so it's finally up! Chapter two of our story
apologies for taking so long on this one, here is the link to the first chapter, and we hope you enjoy it :D
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MicahSilverMutt's avatar
Chapter 3! please! This is very good :D