#thesherlockrpg

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BORED!

These patches were sent from the devil himself. It's not strong enough nothing is strong enough anymore!

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Sherlock and John

After leaving Mycroft alone with his 'girlfriend' Sherlock headed back towards 221B. Upon his arrival he quietly unlocked the door and made his way up the noisy stairs. It was quite late and he did not wish to wake anyone the might be sleeping. Mrs. Hudson no doubt was and he wished with everything thatJohn was as well. As Sherlock opened the door and stepped into the flat however he saw that this hope was short lived. John was sitting in his chair nervously tapping his foot obviously anxiously awaiting Sherlocks arrival.

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Saving Mycroft.

Sherlock walked up to the door flash drive inside his jackets inner pocket. He rose his slender hand up and Knocked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four times. and waited to finally find out who this woman was.

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OOC: ROLE PLAY FREEZE!

It is time we got decent rest but it is fantastic now so resume tomorrow!!

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Sherlock began digging through Mycroft's home office. He threw an old photo album onto the floor and kept digging. Suddenly his eyes drifted downwards, a picture had slipped out of the album. Sherlock picked it up It was a young child, around 7, male, brown hair and brown eyes, his face was sharp and angular and he had a thin build. Strangely the child reminded Sherlock of Mycroft in his younger years. The picture was not an old photo like the rest. It was relatively recent, about a year old. Puzzled Sherlock turned the picture over and saw his brothers writing scrawled across the back.

Jaret Mason-7

THere was also someone else's handwriting on it.

Just thought you might want to see him - Kathryn

Sherlock rushed out of the house and hopped a cab, leaving Lestrade and the police behind him. This was a family matter.

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SMS

Kathryn, I will find you. Whatever it is you want from my brother I can guarantee you won't get it.

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After the Kiss

Sherlock Left 221B and just started walking his mind was reeling he had to get away somewhere he had to sort out these thoughts. He had kissed John. John Watson. It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked it, he definitely had but well he didn’t know what to do now. Sherlock had kissed very few people in his life and rarely did he have to go back to face them. What would he say? How dis John feel? There were too many unknowns Sherlock felt like his head was going to explode. Suddenly Sherlock found himself standing outside of a dirty run down building, it was a good 40 minute walk from the flat so he wasn’t entirely sure how he had ended up there. Sherlock went inside his head still reeling from the night’s events but one more thought had entered the mix. Morphine. Sherlock paused opened the old rusted door and slowly stepped inside. “Shezza!” he was greeted by Billy he didn’t care, he was unsure he could even form a coherent sentence. Billy, I need morphine, no catch up’s no questions just morphine. I will explain later, just not now. However what came out was “ Billy, Morphine, Now.” He saw the puzzled look on the boys face but it did not last for long he simply walked out of the room. Sherlock leaned up against the wall an allowed his body to slide down slowly pulling his knees up to his chest. When he made contact with the cool, dusty ground he pushed his hands against his ears, he needed to control these thoughts. The room was too bright, his head was splitting in half, and there was too much noise. Sherlock thought that he might scream. Suddenly Billy re-emerged with a syringe in his hand. Sherlock pulled off his jacket and took the syringe from Billy. He held it as if it was some precious object that he had to protect. To Sherlock this was very close to the truth, this was his lifeline. This was how he would have the courage to get up and face John the next day, How he could sort out his feelings towards Irene Adler. Sherlock frantically rolled up his shirt sleeve and without the aid of a makeshift tourniquet he found a vein and let the glorious liquid seep into his vein. It wasn’t long before Sherlock felt the affects. Sweet silence. Sherlock stood up and ignoring Billy and his Jacket entirely he wandered in a drug-induced haze to a sofa and let the silence slowly pull him into the realms of sleep.

(OOC- Sorry if there are errors I wrote in a hurry)