Hi guys, I have wanted to write a Sherlock fic for a while now but I wasn´t sure if I could pull it off to write a story that would be awesome enough to do the characters justice. But this just wouldn´t get out of my head….so my apologies for it. Reviews are very much appreciated :D.
"Mycroft, what are you doing here?" The impeccable suit looked so out of place in their messy apartment, and when two pair of eyes swivelled to where he was standing he realized he had actually surprised the two Holmes brothers. Must have been one intense conversation then.
"Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood." That haughty voice always gave John unpleasant shivers, which he tried to ignore as he went to make himself some tea. It had been a long day at the practice. Sherlock, who had been unusually quiet, didn't acknowledge him but just past his brother and went to his room.
"Well Dr. Watson I must be off. Always a pleasure." He raised his umbrella in a strange salute and made a move for the door.
"Now hold on a minute, what did you come to discuss with Sherlock?" John knew that he wasn't really privileged to the workings of the siblings, but lately the relation between Sherlock and Mycroft had seemed more tense than usual. Apparently the older man agreed with John as he gave him a disapproving glare.
"Nothing of importance, just the usual of me trying to look out for my brother. He has become a little too emotionally involved lately and I am hoping to fix that soon enough."
John was slightly disturbed by the way the older Holmes had said fix that. Was he planning to take on a case for Sherlock? That couldn't be it, there hadn't been much cases that really involved the younger man. He was actually quite bored lately, if the holes in the wall were anything to go by. Something personal then? There hadn't been a single wisp of information of Moriarty, and though John knew that Sherlock still had the man on his mind sometimes, he didn't seem really too troubled about it. He sighed, he would never understand the Holmes brothers.
This was an accident
Not the kind where sirens sound
Never even noticed
We're suddenly crumbling
The next morning John found Sherlock on the couch in his usual position.
"Want some tea?" he didn't get a reply. It wasn't that strange, the detective sometimes wouldn't speak for days and all of sudden ask for something simple like a pen. Not even explaining why he had been completely unresponsive to John. Nothing fazed the doctor much when it came to Sherlock his behaviour.
When Sherlock still hadn´t moved an inch when he came back from the practice he started to worry. Not too much, mind you. "Take out for dinner?" Again no response.
It was the next morning that John had enough of it. Not talking was normal, but not moving as well…not even for the nicotine patches…that was not normal.
"Okay, that's it. What is wrong with you? Please Sherlock whatever it is let me help. Did Mycroft say something to you?" He got a flinch as a response to that.
"Okay, so Mycroft said something that has got you all worked up? What was it? Come on Sherlock since when do you care what Mycroft says?"
Tell me how you've never felt
Delicate or innocent
Do you still have doubts that
Us having faith makes any senseTell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses 'cause
There's no way to turn around
"Just leave John." The voice was raspy, not being used for hours on an end, not even drinking something had made the genius his throat parched.
"No I'm not going to leave this alone. Clearly Mycroft said something to you and I want to know what. I don't like seeing you like this.."
"Like what John? Seeing me like a lunatic? Like a weirdo? Like a freak? And I didn't mean leave it alone, I meant leave this apartment and never come back." That was a slap in the face, and also very unexpected.
"What? Why? Sherlock what in god hells name has been said to you that made you react like this?" The anger in the younger man his eyes was so clear, but there was something else there. Something very vulnerable.
Staring at your photograph
Everything now in the past
Never felt so lonely I
Wish that you could show me loveShow me love, show me love, show me love,
Show me love, show me love
'Til you open the doorShow me love, show me love, show me
love,
Show me love, show me love,
'Til I'm up off the floorShow me love, show me love show me love,
Show me love, show me love,
'Til it's inside my poresShow me love, show me love, show me love,
Show me love, show me love,
'Til I'm screaming for more
"You want to know what has brought this on? You have heard it so many times John. I don't have any friends, I'm a freak. People do not stay with me!" Ah so that was what this was about.
"You want me to leave because you think I don't want to be here?" John wasn't sure what had crippled the man more, the fact that John didn't deny anything or that he was so blunt.
"Well you don't do you. Mycroft is right about one thing people always leave John! My father did because he couldn't deal with me, they put up with me for my intelligence, you heard Lestrade John."
"Is that what he told you? Mycroft I mean, that I would leave you?" John knew Sherlock was always a bit daft when it came to social situations, but this obvious was even a little much on his part.
"Sherlock I risked my life for you, remember the pool! How can you think I would actually leave you when all that was over?"
"That was just the soldier in you acting up John, I know how much you hate it that I never get the milk, I always make you do stupid things, I keep body parts in the fridge… I know you hate it here John, don't try to deny it. There are more people that you can share a flat with." The younger man turned his back to the baffled older one.
Random acts of mindlessness
Commonplace occurrences
Chances and surprises
Another state of consciousnessTell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses 'cause
There's no way to turn around
"I am going to kill Mycroft for this…"
"For what telling me the truth, reminding me exactly how different I am from you people, not that I needed it with Sally and Anderson at every crime scene."
"No for putting the idiotic idea in your head that I hated being here, hated you." John cursed himself for not realizing sooner that Sherlock wasn't made out of iron. Socially inept he may be, but no human could forget hearing those words all the time. Freak, weirdo, psychopath, even his own brother reminded him of exactly how strange he was.
"Oh please John, I know humans. You are going to leave eventually, and I rather want it to be sooner than later." For once in his life, John wished he had the same intelligence as Sherlock possessed. To know what the man went through every single day. "It must be so nice not being me.." The comment drifted up from his memory, some old case where the young genius had once again insulted Lestrade and him for not seeing things. Yet he didn't need to be Sherlock to see the slight tremor in the shoulders and hands, the refusal to meet his eye. Sherlock didn't want this, didn't want John to leave.
"You don't mean that do you? Remember what I said in the cab, a day after we met and you explained to me how you knew all that about me. I said: extraordinary. Not freak, weirdo or the things those other idiots have been telling you. Yes the body parts are sometimes a little of putting, if you could get the milk once in a while it would be great, and sleeping in instead of hearing your violin at three in the morning would be fantastic. That doesn't mean I am going to leave you, you big twat. Any other flat might have those perks, but there is just one thing missing that I can only find here. And that is you. Everyone has their faults and in a relationship you work on that."
Tell me how you've never felt
Delicate or innocent
Do you still have doubts that
Us having faith makes any senseLike a game of pick-up sticks
Played by fucking lunaticsShow me love, show me love
Give me all that I want
Show me love, Show me love
'Til I'm screaming for more
"Relationship..?"
"Well I mean, we live together, we work together…we are friends. Those are relationships."
"But that wasn't what you meant…" It wasn't a question, it was a statement and for a moment John saw the old Sherlock deducing everything about him. Well it's now or never I suppose.
"No it wasn't. I'm sorry it was a slip of the tongue. I will not bring it up again…" He was cut off by a quick kiss. It was fast, hard and it was clear that Sherlock was inexperienced with it. As soon as it started it stopped and the sociopath shot away from him like he had burned himself. Hiding away on the couch.
"That…I'm…I….god…" It reminded the soldier of the pool incident when Sherlock had tried to thank him for offering his life in exchange for his. The difference was that the man was absolutely shaking on the couch now.
"Sherlock….it's fine you know…I'm not mad…I'm not going to leave." The man didn't respond to any of it, so as a final desperate act he grabbed his hand and started to rub soothing circles over it.
"So many feelings, it's not right." Okay that hurt.
"What do you mean, Sherlock?"
"I am happy, frightened, my heart is pounding, my throat is constricting, and I think… I'm aroused." For the first time John met the man there was a blush on his cheeks. And he had put it there.
"Well that's good isn't it….why are you frightened?"
"You are going to leave me…I can't be feeling like this it will only distract me…you will hurt me." He was one quivering mess.
"Sherlock for the final time, I'm not leaving you! Let me prove it to you…I love you." There he had said it.
"Why John, people do not love me. They fear me, hate me." The black curls tickled his neck as the genius dropped his head on his shoulder.
"I do, you're smart, you're funny, you like the fight just as much as I do, you understand me. You helped me after the war. Not to mention you are terribly handsome…" That got him a chuckle.
"I'm more worried, that you'll get bored with me." The head shot up.
"Not a chance John, besides what would I do without my favourite blogger?" For a moment they just looked at each other. He could see the wheels turning inside that beautiful head of his, and slowly the fear came back again.
"I'm not familiar with this…this social thing."
"I know and I wouldn't want it any other way." And there it was, the first true smile from Sherlock. It would be alright. It would be perfectly alright.
"I'm still going to kill Mycroft though."
"I have some ideas for that…"
Sorry people to write an evil Mycroft…I actually quite like the bastard ;). The song is show me love from Tatu…but I quite like the male version…there is a youtube video of them with this song…not about this story though.