Chapter Text
It’s been a week.
7 days, 168 hours, 10300 minutes and 70086 seconds.
It’s been that long since… since my best friend died. John stood there in front of the door of Baker Street, in front of what he used to call “home”. The polished dark wooden door reflects his frame, people on the street going about their day, nobody stop and be curious of why this man has been standing there for at least 20 minutes staring at nothing. The skies blue contaminated with thick grey clouds above them all, though it almost seems a little more dull after that one detective’s great fall.
John took a deep breath and sighed, before slowly reaching for the door handle and opening it. The old door creak open, revealing the dimly lit room inside, Mrs Hudson, their lady.. or he should say just the land lady now, came out from her room to greet him.
“Oh John! Hello there, you doing alright dear?”
She asked with her usual caring and little Trembling voice.
“Good afternoon Mrs Hudson, I’m doing quite alright don’t worry”
John force a polite smile onto his face, however he highly doubt it looks like one since Mrs Hudson’s brows tighten.
“Oh John I know it’s hard, it’s only been a week since.. since it happened. I can hardly imagine how painful it is for you!”
John know she’s just trying to help, she’s being nice. But he doesn’t really want to worry her anymore than he already does.
“I know. But don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
“Well if you ever need somebody to talk to, just know I’m here for you dear.”
She nods while giving his hand a little pat as comfort, it didn’t make him feel any better but he appreciates her kindness.
“Thank you Mrs Hudson.”
She smiles and changed the topic.
“Have you find a nice place to move into?”
“Yep, a little place in central London, it’s uh.. closer to where I work. Actually I came here today to pick up the rest of my things.”
“Sure thing! Are you sure you want to move out though?”
“I’m sure. This place.. it’s just a bit too much for me.”
His voice quiet down a little.
“Of course, I understand. Well if you ever think of coming back the flat will always welcomed you.”
She offers and John nods in acknowledgment.
He excuses himself and make his way upstairs, the staircase make a little noise every time his shoes meet the ground, each step seem to be heavier than the last. Which is weird since he had walked through these stairs hundreds of times, his body memorised every step and every sound it makes when apply pressure. He took a quick glance at the living room before forcefully ripping his eyes off it and heads off to his room upstairs. The room was neat and quiet just how he left it last time. The overall grey tone mix with slight green filled the plain wall, the curtains were shut, John open them to let the late noon sun light in, if there is any, dust fly around the room with the sudden movement, books organised on his shelf. John look around the room feeling a sense of estrange, although he lives here and sleeps here he never actually spent that much time in his room, mostly because he uses all his supposed resting time to chase criminals at night on the freezing streets of London with… with him. Or going onto his laptop and books to research any useful information for the case, it always end up taking the whole night to do it. John begun tidying up the place, putting in whatever stuff he owns into a box, it was surprisingly fast how long it took him to finish. Even he himself was surprised he has so little things in the bedroom. He gently lift the box up and make his way towards the door, he took one last glance at his room before turning away and went out. But when he went downstairs and walk into the living room he stops at the doorway, his body locks up and froze upon seeing what stands before him, he’s staring so intense he swear he can drill a hole into the wall and after a minute or two…
“John?”
THUD! The box in John’s hand dropped and the things inside fell out…