All Downhill From Here
“Mariana you cannot possibly look at him and think any of this is normal, just look at him, he’s been on edge all week.”
John's voice came out in a harsh whisper. Glancing towards Sherlock's door to confirm the detective couldn’t be listening in. He snapped his eyes back over to where Mariana sat on the couch. She looked exhausted, they all were.
“He’s refused every case we’ve offered and there have been good cases Mariana. Sherlock would take those cases and you know it.”
“I know John, I know but, don’t you think you're overreacting slightly?” She sighed, pushing herself off the couch, turning to face John.
“This isn’t the first time he’s… y'know, had some sort of episode. He’ll come around, always does.”
“Yeah but, don’t you think it's a bit strange? This seems a bit sudden.”
As John spoke he saw the light on his microphone, indicating it was still recording. He reached toward it and clicked it off. He loved being real with the audience, he had been more than vulnerable on the podcast before but somethings need to stay private and this was looking to be one of them. Mariana had a point though, this was far from the first time Sherlock had a moment like this. John knew Sherlock though, they hadn’t known each other long but when you spend nearly every waking moment sharing a flat with Sherlock Holmes you learn a lot about the guy.
“John, have you considered oh, I don’t know…talking to him about it for once in your life?”
She wasn’t wrong, just asking Sherlock would usually be the easiest route to take.
“Mariana, you realize we are talking about Sherlock Holmes right? You know, the guy who never talks about his personal life, family, friends, any of that? He just doesn’t talk about personal…stuff all that often.
“Well it wouldn’t hurt to try.” A quiet buzz came from her pocket. Mariana quickly pulled out her phone. Sighing at whatever notification she was reading.
“I have more case requests, I'll have to tell them we have a bit of a delay right now.” John nodded. Collapsing onto the chair behind him he sighed, holding his hand in his hands.
Mariana began to exit the room and head towards 221A but she paused for a moment in the doorway.
“John i’m sorry, I wish I had more to say but we might just need to wait this one out ok? He’s probably fine but, we can be there for him ok? That’s what we do.”
With that, she left. Leaving John to wallow in his own paranoia.
It had started about a week ago, on a dreary Sunday morning. John's day had started unusually quiet. Typically, he’d wake to sharp but melodic tunes from the violin down the hall. The only sound he heard as he awoke was the soft patter of rain on the roof of the flat. Glancing out the window he could see a grey sky, dark clouds drifting over London. He had thought to himself that maybe Sherlock had just slept in, or perhaps went on a morning stroll. It's rare but not an impossible occurrence.
John had pushed himself out of the bed, he groaned, clutching his leg. They just wrapped up what had proved to be a rather arduous case last night, far too much running in his opinion. The poor listeners would have no interest in hearing dramatic chases with the soothing background noise of John's heavy breathing in the background. He walked to the door, opening it slightly and peering out, the flat was still silent.
After taking a moment to dress himself, John made his way out of the room, grabbing his microphone on his way.
“Sherlock?” He called casually as he entered the living space. It was empty. John sighed, moving towards the kitchen to grab some tea. Last night's case was tiring for all involved, Sherlock is probably just sleeping. The sound of the flats main entrance door opening broke him out of his thoughts,
“Good morning John!” Mariana greeted as she entered the flat.
“Morning Mariana. Seen Sherlock this morning?”
“Oh, uh no John sorry, should I have?”
“No, no, I just didn’t hear him get up this morning. Probably just sleeping.”
“Ah, I see. Well I just came up here to tell you all is set with yesterday's case, she’s recovering in the hospital now but will make a full recovery.”
“Oh great, I'm glad to hear it. God I hate missing persons cases but when it ends like this it makes it pretty damn worth it.” Mariana nodded in agreement.
“I think we should all just take the day off, I haven’t gotten any emails about any major cases and you look like you need rest.” Mariana chuckled a bit at the end.
“Agreed, i’ll just be editing then if you need anything.” John smiled at her as he set up his computer at the table.
“Will do.” She said, heading out of 221B.
John had proceeded to spend the next hour or so editing and finished it off with starting to record the upcoming episode's introduction.
“Don’t forget to check the description for any warnings though, I will say now its really just the usua-CHRIST SHERLOCK.”
A loud crash interrupted his typical pre-episode content warnings. Practically flying up out of his seat, John turned to face what appeared to be Sherlock leaning up against the wall of the kitchen, some pans that had been drying off on the counter now had fallen to the floor, haphazardly positioned around. That was not what concerned John, what concerned him was the blank look he received from Sherlock as they made eye contact, the messiness of his clothes, the shaking hands and the hard breathing.
“Jesus Sherlock…” He said, concern and confusion evident in his tone. He slowly approached the detective. Sighing before he asked the next question he dreaded to ask.
“What have you taken and how much?”
You cannot possibly blame John for jumping to his conclusions, alright? He’s a Doctor for Christ's sake, he’s seen his share of addicts and from his time living with Sherlock it was pretty damn obvious he was one.
Sherlock stood up straighter on that, a look flashing through his eyes that almost anyone else would miss. He took a breath, steadying himself before moving to pick up one of the pans laying closest to him.
“I am not high Watson. Just a bit tired is all, didn’t look where I was going and knocked into these.” John held out a hand, stopping Sherlock from his goal of cleaning up.
“Sherlock.”
“John.”
There was a brief but tense pause as they held eye contact.
“Feel free to test me, John but I'm perfectly fine.”
John watched him for a moment, internally debating his next move.
“If you swear you are, I'll believe you, but if you are lying to me, which you better not be, just be safe alright?”
“Alright John.”
With that, John moved out of Sherlocks way and helped him pick up the pans.
Sherlock barely spoke at work for the rest of the day, it wasn’t without trying from John of course he seemed to just want quiet. Most of Sherlocks day was spent by the window, curled up on the couch he watched the rain fall with his ear defenders on. Ultimately, John decided to account all of the behavior to Sherlock just having a rough day. Nothing to worry over, these things happen.
He stopped “not worrying” after the third day of this. Sherlocks lack of activity and socialization had turned into more of a paranoia over it. He spent far more time in his room and when he was out in the rest of the flat he seemed on edge. Checking windows, avoiding leaving the flat, it was strange, really strange.
The turning point for John was really on day 5 when Mariana ran up to them in their flat, turning on the news channel that revealed what could possibly be a major case, not only a great episode but probably profitable too. Looked right up Sherlocks alley and everything but, Sherlock only watched about 15 seconds before silently retreating back to his room, ignoring the confused calls from his friends.
From then on, Sherlock refused to speak about any cases. He’d engage in discussion fine but he was just…off. Always glancing around, dancing around the subject of the podcast and even avoiding the microphone.
On day 7, it was about 3 pm on Sunday. Sherlock has not yet left his room and John is sitting, wallowing in his own paranoia.
Grumbling to himself he gets up from his seat. He gathers up whatever motivation he can and strides toward Sherlock's door. He knocks three times, pressing his ear to the door listening intently for a response. 3 times again, nothing.
“Sherlock?”
No response.
“Alright, look I'm gonna open this door ok? Really hope you're decent.” John waits just one more moment before reaching towards the handle. He twists it slightly and lets it click open. Hesitantly pushing the door open he glances in, the room is a massive shadow, far too dark to see anything.
“Sherlock?” He gets no reply. Now Johns are starting to get worried.
“Sherlock, I'm turning on the big light, ok? I know you’re not much of a fan of it but I really need to see.” He steps further into the room, blindly feeling around for the switch. His fingers finally land on it, taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst he flicks it on.
The room is engulfed in light. He turns his head down the hall,
“Mariana get up here quickly” He shouts, urgency in his voice.
“Sherlock?”
He walks into the room, searching any possible place Sherlock could be but he’s nowhere. John can hear quick footsteps approaching.
“John, what's wrong is Sherlock alright.”
“Well i’d love to tell you but he isn’t fucking here.” John shouts out, all attempts at controlling his emotions were long gone.
“Shit. um, ok let me start phoning people.”
“Yeah, try hospitals.”
He sighs, he hates to say it but it's truly the most realistic outcome. Mariana heads out of the room, he can hear her quietly introducing herself on the phone moments later.
Something on Sherlocks desk catches John's attention, he walks towards it cautiously investigating. It’s a notebook, flipped open to a page littered with messy scribbles of notes and ramblings.
One name remains evident in nearly every sentence, a name that he thought they were done with, for good.
“Jesus Sherlock what have you done?”
Moriarty.