The occasional client still contacts John. Usually he declines. Sometimes he’ll shepherd them towards a sympathetic police officer he used to know. He doesn’t do The Work anymore. He doesn’t do much of anything. One such worried face arrives at his door step over a year after Sherlock’s death. He only takes a look into things because it’s so reminiscent of the H.O.U.N.D. case. He imagines he could sort things out quickly and clue in Lestrade to the situation. It’s not what he thinks at all. In the horrible aftermath he he begins to wish he was dead too.
Please write more stitchy!