His Favorite Melody

And Breathe

"I can't go home. If mum sees me in this state, she'll go bonkers. I'll text Croft and have him send a car." She said, running her hand down her face.

She leaned back and looked at John, nodding a silent message that she would be alright. He nod, stood up, and went to pay for his food. Melody pulled out her phone and text Mycroft the situation, getting an almost instant reply that the car would be there in five minutes. She turned to Sherlock, who looked, dare she say, nervous.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break down. I just got so overwhelmed and now we have this to deal with and the phone call just pushed me over the edge." She explained quietly.

"Don't apologize. Melody, you are human and I wouldn't expect you to simply not feel your emotions for anyone's sake. Certainly not mine. Now, go get some rest at my brother's, and when or if you're feeling up to it, come back and help us out. In the meantime, I'll let your mother know you're busy assisting Mycroft." He assured her. He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair behind her ear. "Come along. There's a black car out front, and I'm quite sure it's here for you."

"You know, in any other line of work, that sentence would be wildly concerning." Melody, giving a small huff of a laugh.

"Ah, but we're not in just any line of work, Miss Hudson. And you are not just any woman." Sherlock said with a chuckle.

Melody parted ways with the boys and got into the car, only to be met with quite a surprise.

"Mycroft?"

"Melody."

"What are you doing here?"

"I told you the car would arrive in five minutes."

"Yeah, you didn't say you would be in it, though."

"Well, I wasn’t going to leave you unattended, and your usual travel companion is on holiday." He explained with a small shrug. "Now, lets get you to the house so you can get some sleep, and I can get some peace of mind."

After almost nine full hours of sleep, and a decent meal (practically force fed to her by Mycroft, who in turn, was forced to eat a full meal as well), Melody felt like she was running at least half as well as she was before. She was still nervous and stressed, but she wasn't on the verge of another breakdown.

Mel finally sat down on the sofa after cleaning up, and pulled out her phone. She was mid text to John to ask him if they had figured anything out, when the news that was playing in the background caught her attention. A news report accompanied by stock footage of a devastated building. Disaster teams on the case. The strapline? "12 dead in gas explosion."

Melody looked to Mycroft as he entered the room. "Please, Croft. Tell me that isn't what I think it is." She said with a pleading expression.

"I'm afraid I can't do that for you, my dear." He replied, his voice and expression solemn.

Melody closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Damn it."

"Let's just get you back home so that you can help get this situation you Baker Street lot have found yourselves in settled." Mycroft said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She nod her head and followed him out front. She gave Mycroft a tight hug, thanking him for everything. She got in the car and rode silently to Baker Street. When she arrived, she walked up the stairs and into the flat.

John stood at the window, staring out with an agitated look. His shoulders were squared and he looked extremely disgruntled. Sherlock sat in his chair, looking a bit unsettled.

"What's wrong?" Melody asked, hanging her coat and scarf on the rack.

"John is disappointed in me." Sherlock said.

"Oh, good. Good deduction." John spat.

"Don’t make heroes out of people, John. Heroes don’t exist. And if they did, I wouldn’t be one of them." Sherlock replied bluntly.

Melody looked between the two and crossed her arms. "What happened? I saw the news story on the telly."

"We solved it. We figured out his message and he still killed the old woman because she was starting to describe him." Sherlock said, standing up and walking towards her with his head down.

"Him? As in..."

"Him. Just for once, he’s put himself in the firing line." He said, finally meeting her gaze. "Usually he must stay above it all. He arranges these things but no-one ever has direct contact."

"But he spoke directly to her this time because she wasn't able to see the pager he used before. And he knew that if she described him well enough, you would figure out who he was with no problem." She realized.

Sherlock simply nod.

The stood silent, both staring at eachother as if there was some hidden solution for everything in the other's eyes.

The pink iPhone beeped with a new message, and Sherlock was instantly all action. He put it on speaker-phone again and played the message.  BEEP. BEEP. Another picture- riverside view.

"That’s the Thames. Near St Paul’s." Melody said, eyeing the photo.

"Check the papers, John. I’ll try online." Sherlock said, handing Mel the pink phone and pulling his own from his pocket.

John just glowered at him.

"Oh. You’re angry so you won’t help me. Not much cop, this caring lark." Sherlock smirked.

John huffed in defeat, then stalked towards a pile of newspapers while Sherlock began tapping away at the laptop. John flicked rapidly through page after page of newsprint.

"Archway suicide." John said.

"Ten a penny." Sherlock dismissed.

"Two kids stabbed in Stoke Newington. Um...that dead bloke found on the railway line. Andrew West." John listed.

"Nothing!" Sherlock exclaimed,  exasperated. He grabbed his phone, speed-dialing. "It’s me. Anything been found near St Paul’s? Or the river?"

He listened intently, then nod to John. "Excellent. Thank you." He said before hanging up.

"To the river?" Melody asked.

"To the river." Sherlock confirmed.

A.N.- This update is brought to you live from my vacation in Aruba. ❤ I'll be real with Ya'll, I'm also working on my Doctor Sleep fic AND an unpublished Yellowstone fic. 🤣 Please be patient!