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John came back exhausted from the surgery to find the flat… remarkably tranquil and clean. That’s so weird…
He remembers a conversation he had with Sherlock a few months ago when he was really quiet and subdued. You are really well behaved tonight! What did you do Sherlock? And his friend responded, I’ve got good and bad news John… The good news is that I will NEVER do that again!
Chuckling at the memory, John thought about the days it took to find the hundred crickets that were lost in the flat! Sometimes when the flat is quiet, like right now, he imagines that he still can hear the really annoying chirping!
But right now, nothing… no chirp, no violin, no tall git running mysterious experiments about something…
The silence.
After the buzzing day at work, it should be a blessing. But no. No. The only thing John saw was how sterile, lifeless…it was. Nothing burned, no mess, no music, no life, no friendship, no love…
As he places his bag on the floor, the muted noise echoing in the empty room, John craves to have the flat as it was before when Sherlock was there.
Maybe I should get a new place? John thought as he sits in front of the orphaned black leather chair feeling miserable, hollow… bereft.