Title: Take a Look at Me Now
Rating: T
Pairing: Sherlock/ Molly, John/Mary
Warnings: Lots of smoking and abuse of Phil Collins
Summary: Sherlock is not taking his break-up with Molly well, much to the consternation of his flatmate.
Disclaimer: Sir Arthur, The Grand Moff and Godtiss have a tight hold on these things. This may be the worst thing I've ever done to their Sherlock.
Author's Notes: Lexie's fault. Entirely. Set between Chapters 30-31 of "The Full House". This is cracky. But funny. Apologies to Phil Collins and the makers of Sherlock. I just... I had to. Now that they're back together, we can laugh about the breakup, right?

Sherlock was well aware his breakup with Molly had been at his urging. That made the whole matter worse. He'd acted irrationally. He'd acted illogically. He had believed his emotions for Molly were clouding his deductive reasoning. In fact, his reasons for breaking up with her had been entirely emotional.

Since he'd kissed her again at Barts, he'd started to realize how much of a miscalculation he had made.

To make matters worse, his ability to perform his caseload had been completely and utterly obliterated.

It felt akin to losing a limb. No, even worse... A portion of his brain was missing.

He tried to push it out of his mind. There was nothing to be done about it now. Molly had made it quite clear that he was not to go near her. He would just need to learn to cope without Molly Hooper. He'd done it before, for thirty-five years. He would be able to recover. But how?

As he did with anything that puzzled him, Sherlock turned to research. He did an internet search for "How to cope with the acrimonious parting of a romantic partner".

When this turned up no results, he went simpler: "How to deal with a break-up".

The Internet suggested that listening to music would help. It had been the direction Sherlock had been leaning in. Music tended to focus him, even if it was usually his own playing that did so.

Since he needed to focus on purging his feelings for Molly, it was appropriate for him to listen to something about a break-up.

Going to another Internet search, he typed in "Break-Up Songs".

He found a list of songs. They were all modern pop songs. Not usually what Sherlock listened to. After only a few seconds of listening to each of them, he dismissed them.

Until he came to one. He listened to it once. He listened to it again. He then downloaded it onto his phone and went back to the sofa, flopping down on it and listening once again.

Further research was needed.

John returned from Mary's hotel room, carrying several bags of takeaway in the hopes of coaxing Sherlock into eating. He heard something coming from his flat that was not- for once- Sherlock abusing his violin.

In fact, he wondered if Sherlock was home at all considering what was playing.

"So take a look at me now, 'cos there's just an empty space. And there's nothing left here to remind me, just the memory of your face."

John entered the flat cautiously, frowning at the sight in front of him.

There was Sherlock, stretched out on the sofa, in his dressing gown. Toby was sitting on his stomach, looking imperious. A cigarette dangled from Sherlock's mouth, half-smoked. He let the smoke sift out of the side of his mouth idly. His phone sat in a speaker cradle, the song John had heard from outside playing at full volume.


Sherlock turned his head to glance at John. He did not respond verbally.

John furrowed his brow before setting the bags down at the table. "Sherlock..."

"It's a puzzling song," Sherlock finally spoke. He directed his comments to the cat. "I'm not entirely certain what exactly I'm supposed to ascertain from it."

Mrs Hudson came in without knocking. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh good, John. You're home. Maybe you can get him to stop!"

"How long as he been at this?" John asked.

Mrs Hudson threw her hands up in aggravation. "All evening! He's just been playing that song over and over again!" She stalked up to Sherlock and smacked him hard. "You have no right to be so sulky. You're the one who chased that nice girl away."

"I'm trying to think, Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock snapped irritably.

"Wait-" John walked to the iPhone. "I've only ever heard you play classical music before." He looked to the side. "Did you- research- pop break-up songs?"

Sherlock pulled the cigarette from his mouth and let out a waft of smoke, making Mrs Hudson tsk irritably. "I was made to understand they were acceptable and effective coping mechanisms."

John turned off the song before turning back to face Sherlock. "Playing it over and over again is not coping. Just call Molly."

Sherlock closed his eyes. "I have no wish to reconcile with Doctor Hooper. I only wish to expedient the fall-out from our parting." He waved his hand. "Now please put my song back on."

John pulled Sherlock's phone out of its cradle and tossed it onto Sherlock's chest. He followed it with a pair of headphones. "If you want to listen to it, do us all a favour and do it where the rest of us can't hear it."

Sherlock sneered at John, stubbed out his cigarette and put the headphones on. He selected the song on his phone before lighting another cigarette and lying back on the sofa.

Mrs Hudson gave John a worried look. "This isn't healthy."

John sighed. "As long as he doesn't light himself on fire, there's not a whole lot we can do."

At four in the morning, John was jolted awake by a deep baritone singing.

"How can you just walk away from me, when all I can do is watch you leave? Cos we've shared the laughter and the pain, and even shared the tears. You're the only one who really knew me at all."

John rolled out of bed and blearily made his way out of his room and down the stairs. "There are other people who live here, Sherlock!"

Come morning, Sherlock had abandoned the headphones and was playing the song once again over the speakers. At least John was certain he had moved from his spot on the couch, as Toby was happily eating the wet food that had been put out for him in the kitchen.

Irene had come up from her flat and was drinking a cup of coffee. She looked over at Sherlock critically. "If I'd only seen this a year ago, I'd have millions of pounds from the British government now."

With Sherlock's new obsession, all the residents of 221 (and most likely 220 and 222) had decided to vacate the building. John was out with Mary, looking at flats they could afford together once John decided to officially move out. If Sherlock did not get past his new 'interest', John could see that time coming sooner rather than later.

"He just sits there," John ranted to his fiancée, "smoking and listening to bloody Phil Collins."

"Phil Collins?" Mary repeated, frowning slightly. John had not introduced her to Sherlock yet, feeling his friend was too unstable from his break-up to deal with Mary. However, Mary had heard enough about Sherlock to know it was completely out of the norm.

John gave a sharp nod. "Phil Collins. Over and over... And over... Again."

Mary frowned slightly. "I Don't Care Anymore?"

John shook his head. "Worse. Against All Odds."

Mary sighed. "Wow... He really wants her back, doesn't he?"

John nodded, rolling his eyes. "Try telling him that."

When John returned to 221B, he found Greg standing in the doorway, looking at Sherlock, who was again lying on his back on the sofa, singing along with the song, clearly oblivious to the presence of the Detective Inspector.

"Take a look at me now, 'cos there's just an empty space. And you coming back to me is against all odds and that's what I've got to face."

John furrowed his brow as he looked over Greg. "What are you doing here?"

"We've received ten noise complaints. Considering all the racket that usually goes on here without fuss, I knew it was something serious."

"Noise complaint?" John shook his head. "That's not your division."

He then noticed the mobile Greg held in his hand, pointed at Sherlock. "What's that?"

"After what he said about my wife, he had this coming," Greg replied. "I had to pull rank to get this. There was a mad dash at the Yard to arrest Sherlock."

John strode over to Sherlock. "Sherlock, turn down the music right now."

"Why should I?" Sherlock demanded.

"Because if you don't, Lestrade-" He pointed to the Inspector behind him. "-is going to arrest you. And it'll end up in the papers. And Molly will find out."

Reluctantly, Sherlock took the phone out of the cradle and took up the headphones.

John looked to Greg. "Are you going to arrest him?"

Greg seemed to debate this for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as he keeps the headphones on, I can let it slide. Besides, can't do what I've got to do if he's in jail."

John frowned slightly. "What are you talking about?"

Greg just smirked. "You'll see."

Two days after it started, Sherlock's obsession with Against All Odds ended. It would have been a relief, except he'd turned his attentions back onto his violin, playing the same concerto over and over again. It was a slight improvement in the eyes of his nearest and dearest, as he took more frequent breaks from it.

When Molly and Sherlock began to date again, both Phil Collins and the concerto disappeared from the flat. However, when John walked in on the pair passionately snogging on the sofa, he couldn't resist taking a jab.

"I'm guessing I'll never have to hear Phil Collins again?" John asked slyly.

Sherlock pulled away from Molly and scowled deeply, giving John a look clearly indicating his displeasure.

"What are you talking about, John?" Molly asked.

"You mean you haven't seen it yet?" John smiled brightly. "New video on YouTube. It's gone viral."

John took up his laptop and clicked on the link he'd been sent. Sherlock's voice came through the speakers, matching up with Phil Collins's lyrics.

"Take a look at me now, 'cos there's just an empty space. And you coming back to me is against all odds and that's what I've got to face."

Sherlock glared daggers at John. "Molly, fetch my revolver."