Chapter Text
John arrived back home after taking Sheralyn out for a short stroll through the nearby park. He had watched their daughter that afternoon so Mary could have a break. She had done so much with watching the baby while John worked that she earned a little time for rest and relaxation. He made sure that Mary had those times each week so she could be the best mom and wife possible. He had seen enough moms on the verge of burnout because they did not receive a break to take care of themselves. However, he was not expecting to see what he found when he got back.
Sitting on the coffee table was a note that seemed written in a hurry. It looked like Mary's writing only more frantic than normal. A look of concerned washed over John's face as he read:
Sorry to do this to you dear husband. Something came up. Can't explain. Hope you understand. Don't know if I'll be in touch. I hate to do this to you. Give my love to Sheralyn.
~Mary
John was not completely sure what to do. He tried to contact Sherlock who was not answering his phone again. He grabbed Sheralyn and a few things for her diaper bag before running out the door. He was thankful Mary had thought of bottles even though she was nursing. He made a quick stop at Tesco before continuing on to 221B. John needed formula as there had been nothing for Sheralyn at their place and it was almost her normal feeding time.
A few minutes later John arrived with Sheralyn at Baker St. He ran up the stairs with the car seat on 1 arm and all the other baby gear on the other. He barged into the flat to see Sherlock lost in thought on the sofa. "Sherlock? Sherlock. Did you hear the phone at all? I tried calling you. I even left a voice message as well as a text."
"Sorry, did you say something? I was meditating. The phone is in the fridge as it was making too much noise and I couldn't concentrate." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.
"Mary is gone."
Sherlock abruptly turned his head towards John with a frown. "What?"
The floor creaked under John's feet as he crossed it and sat himself and Sheralyn down in the chair that used to be his. "She is gone. Took off. Left a note saying that... well, saying nothing! She's gone, she just left, no explanation, nothing! Just that she had to go." John was panting by the time he finished. He looked at Sherlock expectantly. The detective stared back at him with a piercing gaze.
For a moment the flat was quiet, except for the rustle of clothes from the baby wriggling on her father's lap. "Has she said anything to -"
"No."
"Maybe not today, but in the last few days?" Sherlock kept pressing. "Or done anything unusual?" John simply shook his head in disbelief.
"Alright, John, just... think for a moment. There has to be something. What did she take with her?"
The question took John by surprise. He hadn't even stopped to look before he had left his flat. "I don't know."
"Let's go." Sherlock was up on his feet at once, grabbing his coat and scarf. John followed with Sheralyn and the diaper bag in his arms.
"We need to search the flat thoroughly," Sherlock continued gravely. Then they headed down the stairs and out into the street. John closed the front door behind them.