July 19 - Bee Aware part 3

Title: Bee Aware Part 3

Author: Pompey

Universe: BBC

Rating: G

Warnings: turning into AU from the show

Word count: 400

Summary: John finally understands the message from the bee, but the next message doesn’t make any sense.

Prompt: July 19 – secret message

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After two days of intermittent contemplation over the little felt bee, John finally saw it: two stripes, two stripes, one stripe. 221 “bee.” After his shift at the clinic, he steeled himself for a visit to his old flat.

The place was more or less unchanged, apart from a small bit of graffiti near the sidewalk. Mrs. Hudson or someone had clearly had a go at it with soap and scrub brush but enough remained. He could make out it was a sort of stick figure at an angle with legs straight and arms outstretched, rather like an airplane taking off. The figure was wearing what looked like a long black tunic, but there was a little curl of blue around its neck.

John recoiled in shock, which quickly was replaced by disgust and anger. Graffiti showing Sherlock falling to his death. That was beyond bad taste, it was downright cruel. The man was dead; there was no need to keep poking at old wounds.

Late that night as he lay in bed, temper soothed by alcohol, John gave the matter some more thought. The bee had sent him back to Baker Street. Was the graffiti meant to be a message too? It was fairly fresh, probably painted the same day or the day after he had received the bee. Was someone sending him on some kind of bizarre treasure hunt? Who? Why? And where was he supposed to go next? St. Bart’s? Was he supposed to return to the site of Sherlock’s sui . . . death?

John groaned and rolled over. St. Bart’s was one of the last places on Earth he ever wanted to return to. But there was clearly some mystery regarding Sherlock that someone wanted him to solve. For the sake of his late friend, he would try.

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Meanwhile, at her place, Mary refolded a map of America’s state of Arizona. She had found it sitting in the middle of Sherlock’s old bed when she had broken into 221B the evening John had received the felt bee. Her suspicions were confirmed once she noticed that two cities on the map had been lightly underlined in pencil: Tombstone and Phoenix. “Tombstone” was straight forward but “Phoenix”. . .

“Oh, Sherlock,” Mary sighed as she scrubbed a few remaining speckles of black paint from her cuticles, “don’t resurrect yourself. Just stay dead. For both our sakes.”