"He was a bloody genius he had to know Moriarty was setting a trap for him." He was sad, it showed in his eyes. He had been trying to find some kind of clue in the box to help prove Jacen wrong, but all he found was a blood stained red shirt, scarf and a few other items that told him absolutely nothing. Only frustrated him further. "Maybe Jacen was right and he just wanted to get away from me." He rubbed a hand against his face and looked down at the surface of his tea at his murky reflection. Jacen had hit one of his lowest points. In the beginning he'd blamed himself for leading him to death, and now it was returning. Now it was coming back to bite him again. He was angry he couldn't force it away. He couldn't stop hurting all because of a few sour things Jacen had said.
"It's never going to be right. No matter what I do, it'll never be right." Jacen had confused him. He was trying to get his life back in order and thought he was doing okay. Then that got thrown in his face all over again. "I never told her not to grieve, I would never." He could talk to Florence, though Freddie didn't much like it either. Florence was one of his best friends, he felt like he could actually trust her. She'd stayed with him through everything and even now still cared.
He looked down at her hand and then back at her with a strained smile. "I don't know what he wants, but I really don't think I care anymore. I thought he was my friend but who says that? Who does that?" Ranting, but at least he was talking. It didn't take nearly as long for him to talk this time as it had when Sherlock was taken away from him again. He knew Florence was his friend, he knew he could talk to her.
Being with her helped re-enforced that she was there of her own free will. If she didn't want to be there she didn't have to be, but she stayed. Some of John's nerves were slowly unwinding.