Three Times that Sherlock Asked John if He was Alright

Sherlock was grateful, slightly, when he found that John had been the one to save his life. Although, perhaps, 'saving his life' was a bit of stretching the truth. Sherlock had never been in any danger. He had chosen the right pill. He had just had to prove it-

But that was all in the past now. And John had been the one to put them where they were. John had killed the cabbie to save him, to protect him... It seemed Sherlock was gaining a rather impressive colleague in John.

"Are you alright?" he asked, after he had ascertained what he had almost been sure of to begin with. Sherlock was fine, now he just had to make sure that John was alright. He may need John to come running after him later on in a case. He may have even... wanted that.

"Yes, of course I'm alright," John replied quickly. Sherlock read nothing in his voice or movements, in his face or tone that spoke of shock. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised Sherlock; John was a soldier, after all.

"Well, you have just killed a man," Sherlock stated with almost a trace of humour, because John didn't seem to care at all. He seemed to only be worried with Sherlock's safety than a (not so innocent) man's death.

John was an interesting man. Sherlock thought that they were going to get along very well.

Barely two months had gone by and Sherlock found that John had become something much, much different than he had initially thought he would be. Sherlock had planned on a colleague. An assistant of a sort that would help to pay the rent. Now things were different.

For one, distressing, wild moment, Sherlock had thought had been the man behind the mask, the man behind Moriarty. Thank God that he hadn't been. Thank God.

Nonetheless, it had been a very bleak encounter, this meeting with Moriarty. It was great, superb, really, to be able to put a face to the name. To put a man to the damage. To have someone to envision when he thought of his arch-nemisis... He had initiated this meeting, after all. He had wanted to meet Moriarty. He hadn't wanted John to be involved.

He hadn't wanted John to be strapped up with explosives, hadn't wanted the laser target to be pointed on him, hadn't wanted John to be here at all.

But it all worked out. Surprisingly enough. It all... worked out.

"Alright. Are you alright?" he demanded, taking hold of the jacket and all but ripping it off. Had to get the bombs away, had to get the danger away, had to-

John was saying something, but Sherlock didn't really hear it, trying to work past the muddled cloud that was taking over his brain. Something, what, what was it, what was the feeling...

John was alright. John was fine. That was good. Fine. Good...

Sherlock had planned it all out. From the very beginning, he knew that what he was doing was going to upset John. It was the chance he had to take, for the sake of the investigation.

However. He hadn't expected... this level of panic. Sherlock wasn't someone who panicked easily, obviously, and he didn't know why people reacted so violently in the face of terror. Especially John. John, who had been a soldier, who had killed people, who was... Sherlock's friend. Sherlock thought that John should have been perfectly used to danger and all of its elements by now. However, he didn't seem that he was.

By the end of it, Sherlock was thoroughly pleased with this experiment. It was interesting... It was great. John was thoroughly panicked, and thus, it proved Sherlock's theory to be correct.

However. Now he had to face John.

"Are you alright?" he asked carefully, placing a hand on John's shoulder. The good doctor was shaking and, for really the first time, Sherlock regretted- only slightly- that it had to have been John that he tested this on.

John reached for the bars of the cage, pulling himself away from Sherlock's hand all too quickly. Deduction: John was still upset. John might even not have realized that Sherlock was really Sherlock. Had this been a bit not good? Probably so.

"Jeez, Sherlock, it was the Hound!"

Definitely still upset. Interesting. The drug not only worked, but lasted.

Experiment: Success.

Repercussions: Mild.

Regret? ...

Sherlock watched John walk away from his grave. The man was upset. There had been a moment of speech between Mrs. Hudson and John, a moment of speech between John and (dead?) Sherlock (aka, tombstone) that Sherlock couldn't hear, a moment of breaking, and a moment of the old soldier that Sherlock knew so well.

The display at the end, the soldier, did nothing to calm Sherlock's worries. Because he was worried, slightly. Just slightly. John was taking it a lot harder than Sherlock had imagined. He had envisioned the good doctor taking it hard- no doubt- but he hadn't expected... this.

It left a bad taste in his mouth.

John only reverted to his military stance when something was wrong. When he was in danger, when Sherlock had been in danger, when there were hurt feelings, when there was... something not good.

Sherlock turned away from his stance of watching John walk away from his tombstone. There was nothing left to see, nothing able to be said...

It was the one time he couldn't ask if John was alright.

It's not a Five Plus One... It's a Three... Plus One... although I'm not exactly if those are textbook 'real'. I wrote it anyway! I know there is at least one more time that Sherlock asks John if he is alright, but I just did these three. So, there. UGH. REICHEN-FEELINGS. Don't mind me. Freaking out. Missing new episodes of Sherlock. Miss hearing Sherlock ask John if he is alright. You know.

Your thoughts are great to hear, as usual!