"Are you going to run me off?" John asked. He was thin and exhausted looking. And he was in no mood to deal with Sherlock.

"Where is he? Or are you not going to tell me?" He had been wanting to beg for Sherlock's forgiveness. But if the man wasn't here... His shoulders slumped and he knew. His love was gone. John stepped back and turned to go.

This time, his pension was large enough to afford him a decent place in London. But he was going to leave London.