I believe in you - Sherlock Fanfiction.

Chapter thirty seven - Mutual client.

**Holland's POV**

I had a phone call from Janine earlier saying she's just spoken with Sherlock, and that i could visit him if i wanted because he's awake. Then we started talking about the press and fashion for some odd reason. Since she's known the truth that Sherlock was using her, we soon became good friends. She was a really kind person as well as funny.

Anyway- I told her i would visit him after when John comes back from work. Greg was coming too, and we soon all met up and made our way to Sherlock's room.

"Dunno how much sense you’ll get out of him. He’s drugged up, so he’s pretty much babbling." John says.

"I mean- sometimes he speaks sense. It's just the drugs that make him babble." I said. We reach the top of the stairs and walk along the landing. I see Greg on his phone and John does too.

"Oh, they won’t let you use that in here, you know."

"No, I’m not gonna use the phone. I just wanna take a video." Greg chuckles, and John grins in humor. We finally get there, and when we get into Sherlock's room we see that the bed is empty, the window blind has been pulled up and the window is open.

"Oh, Jesus." We all exchange looks before leaving immediately. Just has we walked down the corridor John pulled out his phone and called Mary. They talked about it for a minute or so.

"So where would he go?" I can faintly hear Mary's voice say down the phone.

"Oh, Christ knows. Try finding Sherlock in London." John says down the phone too, and then they hang up. 

"He’s got three known bolt holes," Greg starts, "Parliament Hill, Camden Lock and Dagmar Court."

We then spent near enough the whole day searching for Sherlock and asking people where they think Sherlock would be. Were now all in the living room of 221B. I was sat on the couch while John was pacing. Greg and Mrs Hudson are in the kitchen.

"He knew who shot him." John speaks. We all turn to face him, and i see where he is going.

"The bullet wound was here," I pointed to my chest, "so he was facing whoever it was."

Greg walked closer, "So why not tell us?...Because he’s tracking them down himself?"

"Or protecting them." John turns to face him.

"Protecting the shooter? Why?"

"Well, protecting someone, then. But why would he care?" John sits in his armchair, then looks down at it and frowns, looking thoughtful. He pats the arms.

"That wasn't there this morning." I stated. Grey sighed.

"Call me if you hear anything. Don’t hold out on me, John. Call me, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, right."

Greg looks round to Mrs Hudson and then me, "Good night, then." Mrs Hudson walks over towards the living room door as Greg leaves. John strokes the arms of his chair with his thumbs, frowning down.

Mrs Hudson turns towards us after she lets Greg out, "Need a cuppa anyone?"

I just stare at John while she walks into the kitchen. "That chair defiantly wasn't there this morning." I say again. John shifts in his chair so that he can turn towards me.

"Why did he put my chair back here?" He asks, and I shrug, he turns to Mrs Hudson, "Mrs Hudson, wh-why does Sherlock think that I’ll be moving back in here?"