John woke up later in the day. He had doing this for awhile. Sherlock had been working solo on a mental case with another client, so John took this free time sleep in. He sat up and felt the sheets stick to his back. The place was burning up. He hopped into the shower to cool down, then got a kettle of tea ready.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen and stopped. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Sherlock asked, pointing to John.

"It's hot as all hell in here. If the AC broken?" John poured both of them a cup, and handed Sherlock his tea.

Sherlock took a sip and sat down. "Thank you, and yes. Mycroft is sending a repair guy, but he was supposed to arrive an hour ago. Also the grandmother did it." 

"She killed the post man? How come?" John sat in the chair from across him, and sipped his tea casually.

"She didn't mean to kill him. When he knocked on her door, she thought he was a robber, so she smashed him over the head with her cane. No one really suspected it. But I won't tell Lestrade. The woman is old and won't live for long. I give her a month." 

"Rest in piece. I'll send flowers to the family in a month. Do we have any other clients today?" John asked. He finished his tea and stuck his face in the fridge. But the smell of rotting eyeballs made him gag a little, so he backed away.

"We have a line waiting downstairs." Sherlock said casually. John jumped and started cleaning a little.

"Why didn't you wake me up? I would have woken up earlier if I knew we had a line." John scrambled to his room and got dressed. He searched around for a thin shirt. He realized that he doesn't own that much of a summer wardrobe. He found his old ACU shirt. He tucked his shirt into his jeans and hurried down the steps.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." He apologized to the group. "One by one, please." 

He lead the first client up the stairs and into the chair. Sherlock and John sat at their normal chairs and John had a notepad ready.

"I came here to tell you about my case. My husband has been gone for weeks on a business call, but I checked with his company, and he wasn't supposed to be on any trip. I don't know where he is. No one does. The company says their going to fire him if he doesn't come back soon, and I'm getting closer and closer to debt." She told them.

Sherlock looked her up and down. She wasn't extremely attractive, and her wedding ring seems very cheap.

"Your husband is cheating on you with someone from Hawaii, given that you have a keychain from his business that does tour guides, although he usually does London tours for tourists. He doesn't seem to care for you much given that your ring is fake gold, and the fact that he hasn't called you means he's either dead, has no cell service, or he's cheating. He can't be dead because someone would have contacted you earlier, he has cell service because you have Verizon, so that leaves cheating. I'm sorry you had to hear this from me." Sherlock apologized quickly.

She got upset and stormed out of the room. John glared at him.

Sherlock sighed. "I tried my best to be a little sympathetic. I said that I was sorry. That's certainly an improvement, right?" John had to admit, Sherlock was actually trying to act sympathetic.

"Next!" Sherlock yelled. They got clients one by one till 2, and then the flow stopped. 

"Boring! Nothing good ever happens during the summer. I just need a nice triple homicide and a glass of scotch." Sherlock dramatically flopped onto the couch and laid there lazily. 

John chuckled a little. "So triple homicide is good? I could always provide you a triple homicide." He joked.

"I'd very much like it if you didn't. It's more exciting if it's from someone you don't know. Plus I don't want to have to lie and get you out of jail." Sherlock pulled his phone out and texted Lestrade, asking him about any cases.

"Lestrade's name is Greg. I 'm fairly certain I've got it right now."

He sent the text and got a response immediately.

"There's been a death. Our luck has struck, John!" Sherlock said excitedly. He was about to run out of the flat, but John stopped him.

"Go and get some proper clothes. You're still in your pajamas." John pointed to his robe and loose blue bottoms. John waited for Sherlock at the door, and the two headed out.

It seems that everyone was wearing less clothing. There was record high temperatures, but the humidity level was record low. Sherlock noticed that John was wearing work boots.

"How come you're wearing boots? It must be warm to be wearing those during the summer." Sherlock asked him.

"You never know where a murder is going to take you. That and they were the first shoes that I looked at." They jumped onto a bus that would drop them directly at the bay.

There were a couple of police officers there, and Lestrade was waiting for them.

"A girl jumped off and knocked her head. We talked to her friend who watched it happen, and apparently she was muttering something about bones. She's too in shock to say anymore." Lestrade filled them in.

They peered over the guard rail, and looked down. A young girl was laying face down on the rocks. Anyone could survive the fall if they tried to land on their legs, but landing flat would kill you. 

"Apparently she was saying something about bones. We called the mother in the mean time, and the girl, Anny, had some mental illness. She talked about how there were bones in the lake." 

"Our coroner needs to exam the body, but he's old and can't climb down. Plus many of my team are afraid of jumping down there. The last thing I need is an injured officer." Lestrade told them.

"I was a field medic and I assigned death certificates after looked at bodies. I'm certified to tell you what you need to know, then I can help you bring the body up for an autopsy." John offered.

"Go ahead. Take these." Lestrade handed him some plastic gloves. John pocketed them and climbed onto the railing,

He turned over and jumped down, bending his knees and rolling a little to take the impact off. He felt a little sore, but it was nothing too bad.

He put the gloves on and inspected the body. Sherlock looked over the rails and watched him.

"Does she have any pills in her pocket?" Sherlock asked. John searched through, and emptied her pockets. There was an zip lock bag with one pill inside. He threw it up to Lestrade to bag as evidence.

"It seems she died from impact to the chest. She fell flat on her stomach, but her chest was the first thing to hit the rocks." John told Sherlock. He opened her eyes.

"But her pupils tell me that me that she was about to overdose as it is. She was pumped with many drugs. Probably took too many prescription pills." John told them. Sherlock was itching to get down there. He wanted a murder that he could deduct.

"John, I'm going to jump down. Catch me." Sherlock warned him. Sherlock swung to the other side of the railing and was about to drop.

John ran over and caught him just as he dropped down.

"At least give me a moment to react." John told him as he let him on the ground.

Sherlock shrugged and pulled on his gloves. "If I fall, I know there is a definite 93.55% chance you will drop what you are doing to catch me. I've been collected my numbers for years now." Sherlock told him. He looked over Anny while John spoke to the coroner from below the railing.

Sherlock poked around, and saw a piece of bloody paper sticking out of her shirt. He slowly pulled it out and opened it. 

"I found coordinates!" Sherlock yelled to the group above. He waved the bloody piece of paper at them. Sherlock memorized the coordinates and threw it up to Lestrade to bag.

Sherlock walked over to the purse that laid next to her, and pulled out the phone. It was password protected, but Sherlock figured it out.

He looked through her messages and notes. Nothing of importance and nothing lead them to think she was planning the suicide.

"Get the friend ready. I have questions." Sherlock told Lestrade.

"She is not in the right state to be questioned." Lestrade repeated.

"Just let me ask two questions and I'll leave her alone." Sherlock tried to convince him. He looked behind him to the friend then nodded.

John leaned against the wall and bent his knees.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock rose a brow. 

John locked his fingers together and braced himself. "I'm giving you a boost. You really think you'll climb up there wearing dress shoes?" 

Sherlock didn't look like he wanted help, but he accepted. 

He put his foot John's hands and then climbed onto his shoulder. John stood up and Sherlock successfully climbed over the railing.

He leaned over and held his hand out for John.

John backed up and ran towards the wall. He scaled most of it and caught Sherlock's hand, who helped bring him up enough to grab onto the railing and climb over.

John smirked to Sherlock. "I told you boots would come in handy." 

The two walked over to the friend, and she was currently sitting on the edge of the ambulance with a juice box. She was about 19 years old.

"Hello. My name is Sherlock Holmes and this is my partner, John Watson. I was wondering if I could ask you just two questions. One depending on how you answer the first question." Sherlock asked her gently. John felt very proud of himself for the way Sherlock was approaching her.

She wiped her eyes and nodded.

"How close were you to Anny?" Sherlock asked her.

"Extremely close. We practically grew up together. I went to her therapist with her, I helped her through her problems. She tells me things that she keeps secret from her therapist and mum." She sniffled and paused.

John wrote it down for the blog. "Did you notice anything wrong recently?" He followed up.

The girl nodded. "Me and her were always go to get her prescription together. I noticed a drop in her health. She had multiple personality disorder, except almost all of her personalities were happy and positive. But she had one that was extremely angry and depressed and suicidal. If it weren't for 'Alex'-" She used air quotes. "She wouldn't even be on medication. The most recent time we went to get her prescription was a week ago. Since then 'Alex' would resurface more and more. Usually she only had an Alex moment for a couple of seconds, then she would be happy and bubbly. But just yesterday, Alex lasted for hours. I stayed in her room and watched over her to make sure she wouldn't try to kill herself. When we left the house, she was feeling really good, but then Alex surfaced and she just... jumped." The girl started to break down again. John rubbed her back to comfort her.

"Thank you for helping us. You really helped us." John thanked her.

Sherlock and John hailed a cabby and were driven to the mother's home.

When they got there, the mother was a wreck. It seems someone had called her about Anny's death.

"Hello, my name is Sherlock Holmes and this is my partner John Watson. May we come in an ask some questions about your daughter?" Sherlock asked her politely.

She nodded and let them in. They all stood in the living room. She kept sniffling into the same handkerchief.

"We heard from her friend that her personality, Alex, had been surfacing as of recent. When did  you notice the change in Anny?" John asked her.

"The first day she took the first pill from the new bottle. Alex surfaced for 5 minutes and I loved her in the bathroom. It only got worse after that. Marie stayed with her because I left the house for a business meeting. She's always been there for Anny when work called." She blew her nose into the handkerchief. 

"Would you mind letting me take the bottle of pills she has been using recently so I can check them? And would you mind it if I took a look around her room?" Sherlock asked the mother.

"Go ahead. I'll be here if you need me." She let them explore.

Sherlock and John went into her room and looked around. Sherlock could easily see how the room had changed. He pulled Anny's phone out and looked at a recent photo of her and Marie in the room. It was fairly colorful and bright, and the time stamp was a month ago.

Now the room's paintings, drawing, and other colorful works were taken down. It was fairly bare and there were scribbled on the sides of the drawers in sharpie.

"This Alex personality has been changing her room a little. And writing over the drawers." John pointed out.

Sherlock went into the bathroom and retrieved the bottle. He counted the pills, and only two were unaccounted for. 

"Judging by the number of pills left in the bottle and the times that she must take them, her and Marie planned to spend the whole day out. She needs to take a pill every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She had a bag with one pill, and I'm guessing she ate breakfast here, so that means she had lunch with Marie just before she killed herself. She couldn't have possibly overdosed on her pills because none are unaccounted for. So that either means she was doing some other drug, or there was foul play." Sherlock concluded. He pocketed the pills and looked around. John showed him a bag of razors, although she didn't have any visible cuts or scars on her wrists or thighs. But there was dried blood on it, so she definitely used them in some form.

They looked around a little and Sherlock came to the conclusion that Anny was not doing any other type of drug. So that left foul play.

They walked back to the living room where the mother was, and told her their conclusions.

"Do you know of anyone who would want her dead?" John asked her.

She shook her head. "Anny didn't have that many friends, but the friends she had were good. Mostly they were cousins or close neighbors. She was all around a great girl until that Alex started to come back around." 

"Thank you for your time." Sherlock thanked her. They both jumped into a cabby and drove to the flat.

Sherlock handed him the bottle to read. "I need to analyze these pills. I think that her doctor may have concentrated the drug and kept the same pill schedule."

"It's a little weird that taking too much of the drug would make it work less. She overdosed even though the drug wasn't working. It's more plausible for the doctor to have changed the drug entirely, kept the schedule, but upped the concentration. That way the pill wouldn't work and she would overdose." John pointed out. 

"You are right. I didn't think about that. I'm impressed." Sherlock flashed a smiled towards John.

They arrived to the door but Sherlock stopped John. "Can you run this by the lab and get it analyzed? It's fairly easy. I'm sure Molly could help you." Sherlock asked of him. 

"You really need to apologize and explain to Molly. It'll only get worse if you wait longer." John tried to reason with him. 

"I can't. I hurt her greatly, and I won't be able to redeem myself. I've already tried to apologize, I hugged her, I explained. She forgives me but she's sad every time she sees me. I can't keep putting her through my crap. Especially since my sympathy levels have only risen slightly." 

John took the bottle and pocketed it. "Fine. But make sure you find out who the mother works for and who the doctor is associated with. She's in the medical field of some sort, so she may be linked." John reminded him. He walked down to a less crowded area and caught a cabby.

Sherlock watched him drive away, and he entered the house. Sherlock already had the answers for John, but he just wanted to have the flat to himself so he could watch the video Mary left him. He's been itching to watch it.

He clicked through the videos and found the one listed to him. He sat on the couch and pressed play.

He noticed it was filmed at a different time than the last video he watched. 

"Hey there Sherlock. I do hope you are alone, because this message is just for you." She started off.

"Well if you're watching this, that means I'm dead. I've had to say this so many times so it seems almost a little surreal that I'd be dying in a couple of months, and along with the baby. I was so happy about my new life that I forgot about my death date. So I guess I'll have to die with the consequences." She joked a little. Sherlock leaned back and listened to her.

"I know our relationship has been extremely complicated. Especially with having to share John. I'm sorry I was selfish and took him from you. I just wanted a normal happy life, and I found that in John. And I knew what it was doing to you the entire time. I guess I'd like to use this time to apologize for taking him and wrecking him. I know that it was hard for you to go the wedding and be there for me and John, but I'm still glad you came. I mean you did pull that stunt with your speech, but John has always been dense when it comes to feelings. I think only you and I really understand what you meant. So bearing that in mind, please continue to watch over him. Don't feel guilty for me. Just live your life with him. I got my turn, so you get your turn. Goodbye Sherlock." The video ended and Sherlock closed the laptop. 

He laid on the couch and turned  to face the wall. 

Unbeknownst to Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson was frozen on the steps coming down from the attic. She had stopped when she heard Sherlock walk in. She heard the whole video. She silently backed up the stairs and pretended to be walking down the stairs just then.

"Back so soon, Sherlock. I'll make you a cup of tea." She offered.

"No thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I'll wait for John to come back." Sherlock mumbled.

She nodded and walked down the stairs. She made herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch. 

After a little bit, she heard John walk in. He opened her door and walked into her apartment with an envelope.

"He's some mail." John handed it to Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh thank you John. Before you leave, know that Sherlock isn't feeling the best." She told him.

"Is he sick? Sherlock never gets sick." John told her. 

"No. I mean he's a little down in the dumps. Just make sure to be nice and cheer him up." She advised. John walked out of the apartment and up to their flat. 

"I'm back. Do you want the news now or later?" He asked. He went into the kitchen and started to make tea.

"Now is alright. What did you find out?" Sherlock asked.

"I know medicine fairly well since I worked in a mental hospital for awhile before I became a medic. All the ingredients listed on the bottle are there, but they are unequally proportioned. There's one ingredient called Norepinephrine. It's known for causing an increase in anxiety and depression. The ratio of the chemical override every other chemical in it. A medical company would never be able to get away with it. So obviously something has been changed. I'd say a trip to the company's headquarters will provide us the answers we need." John explained. He poured two cups and handed one to Sherlock and sat down on the couch.

"Good job John. The mother works for Foreen, a medical supply company. Dr. Darrin prescribes the same medication from Foreen, and he has not changed it. So most likely Foreen made some changes to their ratios and it's becoming dangerous. Foreen is only used for extreme cases, so only a couple of people should be affect. But we still need to investigate more. Mycroft got me an appointment with the head of the medical team tomorrow." Sherlock told him. In actuality, Mycroft doesn't even know about the case. But Sherlock only has to mention Mycroft's name to meet the head of the medical team, anyways.

"Good. I saw Molly. She looks better. I mentioned you, also." John told him.

"How did she react?" Sherlock asked, curiously. He hadn't seen her in months, and he was wondering how she was.

"She confided to me, that she has stopped thinking about it. She found herself a boyfriend and she understands why you did what you did. She just needed time to move on." John told him. Sherlock definitely seemed to perk up.

"That's good. I've been wanting to go to the lab for awhile. I do miss the bodies. It's amazing how differently dead bodies bruise depending on the cause of death." Sherlock said wistfully.

"Well it'd do well to have you leave the flat and get back to the lab. I'd like there to be some area in the fridge where I can safely stow food without finding human remains on it." John reminded him.

"That was one time I forgot about the head." 

John walked back to the kitchen laughing. He started washing the dishes and glass beakers in the sink.

"How about we go out for dinner? I'd say that now we've had tea, you should be able to stay up till 11 before you tire." Sherlock estimated.

"That sounds alright. Where do you want to go to?" John asked. 

Sherlock went onto his phone and started texting Mycroft. "I want to appreciate the food now that I'm trying to spend more time relaxing. How about Clos Maggoire? I quite like their Pappardelle." Sherlock suggested.

John heard of the name. It was extremely expensive. "Isn't that a bit expensive for a normal dinner?" 

"How many times have you been to a nice restaurant and had actually experienced good food? Not many times, I'm certain. Plus if I'm going to eat anything, it'll either be breakfast or something good quality. But you'll have to get changed. There is a dress code." Sherlock told him.

John finished up the dishes and got a shower since he had been sweating the whole day. Sherlock changed his shirt and added a blazer. 

The sun was setting outside of the flat. 

John walked into the living room and held his hands out. His face had a mixed expression. Sherlock could tell he put effort into his appearance, but was uncertain of himself. He wore a grey blazer with matching grey slacks. Obviously bought as a pair. And he wore a dark blue silk button up shirt. A shirt that Sherlock had given it to him as a gift awhile before but never found the occasion to wear it.

"Do I look to fancy?" John asked. Sherlock shook his head. He put on his own blazer and fixed the cuffs.

"You look good. Sort of like how I dress, except you make it look more formal." Sherlock told him.

They both headed downstairs and were stopped by Mrs. Hudson. "Where are you two heading off to all dressed up?" She smiled, looking at them both.

"To dinner. The laptop with the videos is on the coffee table. I've invited the others to come over tonight while we are gone. There's a video address to everyone but us. We'll be back later." Sherlock told her before walking out of the flat with John.

They hailed a cabby and jumped in. They were driven to the very middle of what John referred to as the 'pricey' side of London. 

They exited and walked into the famous restaurant.

"Do you have an appointment with us?" The receptionist asked him.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes. I'd like a table for two." He told her instead. She reached through something on the tablet and apologized. She lead them to the flower dinning room and they sat at the table for two. They sat down and John admired the room. They were famous for the flower dinning room. The ceiling was covered with a large next of flowers, with fairy lights intertwined. Towards the night time, the house lights dim and the fairly lights glow different colors depending on the time of year. 

There was an unoccupied piano in the corner, and a guitarist who was setting up next to it.

The waitress came around to them. "Your usual, Mr. Holmes." The waitress said as she poured them both a glass of wine.

"Thank you." John thanked her. She pulled a lighter out of her pocket and lit the candle in between them. She placed the menus in front of them and left.

John was going to say something, but decided not to. He glanced around and noticed that it was fairly quiet, yet there were a lot of diners. Ranging from men in smart business suits to women dressed in expensive dresses and clothes.

John looked at the menu, but wasn't sure what to get.

"You like seafood, if I remember correctly." Sherlock said. John nodded. "I'd suggest either the Arctic Char and Lobster or the Cornish Pollock." 

"I think I'll get the Lobster. It's been awhile, and I do miss it." John decided.

The waitress came by and their orders were set. 

The guitarist in the background started to quietly tune his guitar and strum some chords. 

He cleared his throat and started to sing and play the guitar.

Your looks could kill,

The pain I feel,

Your thrills are all I wanna gain.

The guitarist sang. The song sounded very nice. Sherlock could tell that the man who sang the song was Irish.

"When are you going to watch Mary's video? I'm sure she would want you to see it." Sherlock asked.

John shrugged. "I don't know. I feel a little better about the situation now that I know she didn't have much time left. I might watch it tomorrow if we don't get anymore clients." John decided.

"That's good. She would want you to listen to the video. She did make it herself." 

I've been hoping and soul searching,

To find it in the one, 

Ohh.

"Have you watched your video?" John asked. Sherlock nodded.

"While you were out. It wasn't too long."  

John was curious as to what Mary told him. He figured it was why Sherlock was sulking on the couch while he was gone.

I am wondering how you wondered in,

I'm asking are you staying?

Or would you like to stay in?

"Did you already know the connection between the doctor and mother before we left the house? I saw your eye glint when I asked you those questions." John caught on with Sherlock. He had certainly become more clever over the years.

Sherlock smiled proudly. "It seems some of the few good aspects of me are rubbing off on you."

Cause I...

Love to live and I live for you.

I live to love and I,

Love you.

I love to live and I live for you.

I live to love and I,

Love you.

"What bad aspects are you hoping I don't inherit?" John joked. "It's not like you have many bad aspects of yourself."

Sherlock snorted. "My drug addiction. Insensibility. Lack of emotion. My overall nature is pretty appalling." Sherlock pointed out. "I'd rather you stay the same clever, dense, and wise man that I know right now. I would certainly not want you to start forming a relationship with Heroin."

John shook his head chuckling. "I disagree with the last two. You do have emotion, you just show it differently. And your nature is not appalling. There were moments where I wanted to punch you in the face-" John laughed. "but that is besides the point."

You're lips could heal the scars they deal,

You're unreal,

So surreal, 

That you're mine.

"Really? I'm flattered that you do not feel the urge to punch me as much as before." Sherlock smiled. "Although there are times where I wait for a left hook to the jaw." 

The two laughed at the table, and noticed some others look at them. 

I've been wishing and day dreaming,

Ineffable, 

Unexplainable,

Come rain or shine.

The waitress came by with their food and they dug in. John dug right into the Lobster and savored it. It was extremely tasty. Certainly better than roadside Lobster.

The two ate their dinner slowly and engaged in conversation the whole time.

Back at the flat, Molly Hooper, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, and Lestrade sat inside 221B Baker street on the small couch in front of a laptop. There was a video addressed to all of them.

"I don't see why I must be here. Mary and I were not close at all. If anything, she wanted to shoot me." Mycroft complained.

"Oh hush you. Mary made this video and named you in it. Now shut up and listen." Mrs. Hudson scolded. She pressed the play button and they watched the video.

"Hello there. I hope that you are all there. It would be a shame if someone missed out." She greeted. 

"I will be quick with this since I'm sure Mycroft is complaining, Lestrade is late for a date, and Molly is tired." She spoke cleverly. Each was true. Lestrade had a date he was going to be late for and Molly always slept early.

"I do hope you don't pity me or feel sorry. There was nothing that could have done to be saved. I was already sick, and I knew it for years now. So I just want to let you know that even if I don't know you personally, you all have been there for Sherlock and John." She grinned at the camera.

"This is why I have a job for you. Call it my final request beyond the grave. Sherlock and John have been together for a long time, through thick and thin. John has never felt that close to someone, not even to me. I loved John, but I could tell that he didn't fully love me. There's someone he loves more than me, and that's Sherlock. Whatever type of love you call it, I'm not sure. The one thing I know is that Sherlock and I spoke frequently before I married John. Let's just say that having Sherlock come to our wedding and stay for most of the reception was probably one of the hardest things he's had to do. Now my request, is for you to watch after them. They are special, and I want them to stay together. Goodbye." The video ended.

Mycroft got up and pulled his coat back on. "I knew it on the first day." Mycroft snickered before he left. After that, Lestrade and Molly left. Mrs. Hudson went to her apartment and thought about it. She knew she was right all those years ago.

John and Sherlock were long past dinner, and just stayed around to talk or deduct. They took turns deducting others in the room. John had been practicing, which impressed Sherlock. He was more clever than before.

"I know this. The guy behind you played the clarinet for a long time, and he's a metrosexual. I'm positive." John felt fairly confident in himself. Sherlock knocked a clean fork off of the table and used the diversion to look behind himself.

"Good job John. Clarinet and metrosexual. Although almost half the men in here are metrosexual." Sherlock pointed out.

"And every woman I've seen in this room has had some type of face surgery." John added. Sherlock glanced around and agreed. Sherlock checked his watch. He hadn't really been tracking time. Apparently it was 11:23.

"We should probably head back." Sherlock mentioned. Sherlock paid and they both took a cabby back to the flat.

They walked into the living room. John pulled off his blazer and shoes, and relaxed on the couch. "I'm not particularly tired. I might just stay up with you till I give out." John decided.

"Be warned. I go days without sleep, and I play the violin for thought." Sherlock warned sarcastically, knowing that John was very aware of those two facts.

Sherlock picked up his violin and started to improvise a song. He swayed around and played for hours. 

Somewhere through the night, John fell asleep on the couch. Sherlock just continued to play the violin all the way to the early hours of morning.