All the Cracks in Time :: 22The space where Amy had first appeared was nothing more than a hole between two buildings, not wide enough to store trashcans, but enough for someone to walk through to go to the next street. Sherlock knew quite a few of his contacts made trades and drop offs there, on account that it was between one very busy thriving street, and another that was practically dead. Woolwich had been like this for awhile, and even though the city was in an uproar to clean it up, Sherlock was glad it was left untouched for this occasion. About thirty minutes from 221 Baker Street, was a large building, now abandoned to the world. Sherlock had always admired its infrastructural, but never cared for people writing across the big panels on the outside. Absurd love notes, quotes, and other ridiculous ramblings; they were all just another part of the human experience that escaped him. He stood in the cool night air, staring up at the abandoned co-op department store with
All the Cracks in Time :: 21Sherlock didn't care for this situation one bit. He was actually caring about loosing Amy, John was gone, and he was now left with Rory. How completely unspectacular. He didn't strike Sherlock as interesting in the least bit, except for the fact that he had dropped out of the sky with a man called The Doctor. Other than that, Sherlock couldn't see what was so interesting about him, or what Amy could possibly see in this man.He frowned, his eyes narrowing. Was that jealousy? Well, this was shaping up to be a very interesting day indeed."You said Amy was here for three months?" Rory asked as Sherlock's eyes were panning over every piece of evidence he had of Moriarty. Sherlock glanced at him, annoyed, but nodded, "Yes."Rory nodded, pacing behind him, holding the sonic screwdriver. His thoughts were on Amy as well, but all he could think about was that she was here, for three months, living with two strange men. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, tapping the
one week after :: JW-SH five second fanfictionJohn stood, his face stone cold as he got into the cab after Mrs. Hudson. The drive to the funeral home was silent, all except for Mrs. Hudson's sobs. He stared blankly ahead, his mind screaming that none of this was okay. He didn't want to be going today, but he didn't want to have to stay in the apartment without him either.It was hard to function without him there. Their home, once so small for two men, especially with Sherlock Holmes, was now a shell. Hollow, vast, and forever empty, almost like how he felt now.There were little things here and there that he missed over the past week. The violin at four in the morning, the way he woul