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Chapter Text

John had always been concerned about Sherlock’s weight. The man looked so fragile, like he could break at any moment. Maybe it was because John was a doctor or maybe because he was his friend but either way Sherlock’s dwindling weight had gotten out of control. That morning at breakfast John offered him a piece of toast but he insisted he wasn't hungry. Same at lunch and dinner.

"Sherlock you have to eat" John said assertively.

"Slows me down John" sherlock grumbled, observing the slide under his microscope.

"You'll get sick" john retorted

No response. Sherlock finished the slide he was working on and retreated to his bedroom.

In the safety of his room Sherlock stripped down to nothing but his pants and looked in the mirror. To anyone else they would have seen every rib, a concave stomach, hip bones that were very visible, and legs that looked so small you would think they would break at slight pressure. But that's not what Sherlock saw, he saw an imperfect and flawed body. He stood there pulling at the skin on his stomach and thinking it was fat and holding his thighs to see it they still shook. He stepped onto the scale and let out a deep sigh, 8 stone (112 lbs) hurt and disappointment washed over his face and his eyes brimmed with tears.

"I'm disgusting," tears began to fall down the pale man’s cheeks " this is why John won't love me, I have to fix it, I won't eat for 4 days this week, lots of water, I'll get out and exercise. Maybe then he will love me."
Sherlock went into his bathroom and pulled put a small velvet box that held four box cutter blades. He selected the newest one and held it to his wrist and moved it across until the blood came to the surface, he repeated the same action several times on his thighs, stomach, and upper arm. After the blood was cleaned up he took a shower and climbed into bed.
*Next Morning*

Sherlock was already up and dressed in a purple shirt that was once tight on him but now was a bit loose.

"Tea?" John asked

"Please" Sherlock spoke quietly as he sat down at his desk.

John fixed the tea to their liking and sat down at their small kitchen table.
“Sherlock?” he asked, trying to get the detectives attention.

"Hmm" sherlock mumbled, not looking up from his desk.

"Come sit and eat with me yeah?" John spoke with a small plea in his voice.

"Not hungry" as soon as the words left his mouth John wanted to tell him he was a liar and shove a piece of toast in the man’s mouth.

"Then just come sit with me and drink your tea,” John pleaded again.

No response or movement came from the detective.

"Please?" John asked one final time.

Sherlock stood from his desk and sat down across the table from John. The doctor gave him a quick smile and scooted the detective’s tea closer to him."Do you want any toast or strawberries?" he asked.

"I hate repeating myself, John" sherlock said with an eyeroll.

"Sherlock just eat some of the fruit" John was growing frustrated with Sherlock’s stubbornness.

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Sherlock!" John at this point was quickly approaching angry that his friend wouldn't eat." Sorry, look I'm just really worried about you. When was the last time you have eaten?" John sighed.

"John, I am a grown man, I can feed myself." Sherlock scoffed.

"Really? I'm not so sure you can. When was the last time you ate?" John said looking into the dark haired man’s eyes.

"Wednesday" Sherlock replied. Johns mind began to spin. Today was Saturday.
"Sherlock you haven't eaten in 3 days."

"Yes, I can count the days. Why does it matter?" Now Sherlock was getting angry.

"It matters because if you don't eat your going to die!" John was almost shouting.

Sherlock pushed his chair back harshly and went out the door.

John sighed, grabbed his coat, and went after him. He followed him with caution trying not to be seen. He followed the detective to a small park with a little pond and watched him sit down under a barren tree. It was the beginning of February and to say the least England was cold, and Sherlock didn't have his jacket. John watched as Sherlock sat there playing with his fingers. When Sherlock began to shiver John moved toward him and took off his jacket before wrapping it around his friend. Sherlock looked at him as John sat down.

"Why are you here" Sherlock asked

"I could ask you the same." John’s tone was much calmer than it had been when he left the flat.

"I thought it was obvious, I was mad and needed to think" Sherlock stated plainly

"Why we're you mad" the doctor asked, looking up at his friend with caring eyes.

"You." Sherlock said at almost a whisper volume.

"Me?" John’s eyebrows raised in confusion

Sherlock nodded

"Okay, what did I do to make you mad?" John asked.

"You act like I can't take care of myself. 'Sherlock eat' 'Sherlock sleep' 'Sherlock clean up the acid in the sink' I get sick of hearing it John"

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you. I know you can care for yourself but Sherlock," John hesitated, " I lost you once and if there is anything I can do about it I won't lose you again. I was miserable without you."

"And I you" Sherlock said looking into John’s eyes.

"Really?" John said with almost too much joy in his voice for it to be on a friend level.

Sherlock nodded " yes, you are the only reason I came back John, there are far more interesting things I could have done in the place I was but I didn't want to solve crimes and jump rooftops if I couldn't do it with you"

"That may be the nicest thing you have ever said to me" John said smiling softly. the wind picked up and he shook briefly. " let's go home, yeah?"

As they walked, they casually bumped into each other like always and Sherlock pulled Johns jacket tighter around him. Upon returning home Sherlock went to lay on the couch and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Days upon days passed and Sherlock still refused to eat more than an apple or some nuts. He looked thinner than before and John knew he had to do something. And that something was speaking to Mycroft.
John took a cab to meet Mycroft at a café outside of London.
"Doctor Watson, how are you?" Mycroft asked as he leaned on his umbrella.

"Alright, how are you?" John said shaking Mycroft’s hand.

"Fine. Shall we?" Mycroft questioned opening the door to the café. John nodded and walked in.
"I'm assuming your here to talk about my brother." Mycroft said raising an eyebrow at the doctor.

"Yes, Mycroft I'm quite worried about him." John said taking a sip of water.

"Why?" the Holmes brother said, as if he didn’t already know.

"He doesn't eat, he is getting paler by the minutes and I'm just worried that one day I'll wake up but he won't." John said, his voice beginning to shake towards the end.

"Doctor Watson do you want to know the truth or a lie about Sherlock Holmes" Mycroft inquired.

"What? Of course I want the truth" John stated.

"What I tell you stays between us, and us only. Sherlock shouldn't know for his benefit. It would hurt him to know I told you this." Mycroft’s tone became very serious.

John nodded asking Mycroft to proceed.

"When my brother was 17 he got into a relationship with a man named Victor."

Johns eyes went wide at the fact that Sherlock had even had a previous relationship.

"Victor was kind to him, took him to dinners, bought him presents, all horribly dull things that Sherlock pretended to like because he thought it made Victor happy. And if there was someone who would love him, it was something he may never get again. So he went along with everything Victor did. They graduated and went to the same university. That's when everything changed. They lived together but Victor never wanted to spend time with Sherlock. He was always out with "friends" he cheated on Sherlock more times that you can count. One-night Victor came back drunk, yelling insults at Sherlock telling him he was worthless and that he should leave him. Sherlock was hurt but tried to blame it on the alcohol. Victor raped him that night. The next morning Sherlock went to the bathroom to shower, when Victor came in, he told Sherlock he was fat, ugly, disgusting and that no one would ever love him for as long as he looked like that. He should have ended the relationship but didn't because he grew to think Victor was right. That's when Sherlock stopped eating like a normal person, that's why Sherlock doesn't have relationships, doesn't have sex. John he is terrified of it. Victor did so many horrible things to him, but he never told anyone. The abuse continued all the years of uni and then when Sherlock told Victor he was moving, he left Sherlock like he never mattered. And I suppose to Victor he didn't matter, but Sherlock thought Victor had loved him and it hurt him that he had failed his only relationship. He cares about you John, and if you can't see that then pardon me but you're bloody stupid. He wants you to think he is perfect and brilliant in every way, he wants to impress you. Victor used to " reward" Sherlock for every half stone he would lose. The reward of course wasn't pleasant for Sherlock, only for Victor but Sherlock thought and still thinks that is how sex is. Painful, harsh, rough, and full of agony. If it made Victor happy, he would do it, that's why he lets very few people in now, John."
John sat quiet and just stared at Mycroft for a minute. He wanted to find Victor, track him down and kill with his own hands. He felt sorry for Sherlock, wanted to hold him and make everything better. He was surprised to learn Sherlock liked him more than a flat mate and friend and he felt awful knowing he was the reason Sherlock was starving himself.
"What can I do to help him" John asked with his voice cracking, fighting back tears.

"Do what you think is right, doctor Watson" Mycroft spoke softly. “despite our childish fued, I am genuinely concerned about him.”

John nodded and came up with a plan in his mind."Thank you Mycroft, I wish that never happened to him."

"Me too, but it did and we can't change it. Good day doctor Watson." Mycroft gave a small wave.

They both stood from the table and shook hands and headed to walk out.

"Not a word to my brother" Mycroft said seriously as he got into the car that had been waiting for him.

John nodded and hailed a cab.
John had the cab drop him off a block away from 221b, giving him time to think and a moment to compose himself. He wouldn't admit it but he cried silently most of the taxi ride.
When he arrived at the flat he walked in to not see Sherlock anywhere. John only had one place left to check and that was Sherlocks room. When he opened the door he saw the detective in only his black pants. When Sherlock saw John he flung himself onto the bed and wrapped himself in a sheet. It was too late for John, and of course Sherlock knew it but he hoped John wouldn't bring it up. John saw every rib, hip bones that stuck out, very visible collar bone and Sherlock entire spinal cord.
"Sorry, didn't mean to see you in your pants" John said, turning his glance to the other side of the room.
"It's alright, where we're you" Sherlock said, sitting up and the sheet draped off one of his shoulders.

"I went to the pub to have a pint" John lied.

"No you didn't, you saw my brother. Why?" Sherlock shot back.

"No reason" John said as casually as he could.

"There is always a reason" Sherlock said pulling the sheet tighter.
"Right, well, um I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a film with me and get takeaway."
Sherlock raised one eyebrow, it was odd for John to want him to watch a movie "alright let me put on clothes"
John went downstairs, ordered the food and picked a few movies. Sherlock arrived minutes later In his favorite blue dressing gown and gray pj pants.
" I laid out some films, pick out whatever one you think would bore you the least" John yelled as he walked to the door to pay the takeaway man.
He handed Sherlock a box of Thai noodles and sat beside him on the couch. Sherlock had put in secretly one of Johns favorites "the best of me".
"Why did you chose this movie?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I hadn't seen it, we have watched the others. Why do you not like it? I can take it –“ sherlock rambled nervously, worried that john may be judging his choice of film.

"Sherlock it's fine, I just wondered why you picked it since it was a romance movie." John said quickly in an attempt to reassure his friend.

Sherlock blushed obviously embarrassed

"Hey, no need to be embarrassed I like the film, I bought it didn't it?" John playfully nudged him

Throughout the movie Sherlock continued to stab around at his noodles never taking a bite though.
"Sherlock" John Said leaning closer to him " 5 normal sized bites, please"
There was a desperate look in Johns eyes and Sherlock brought the noodles to his mouth.
John smiled "thank you." He leaned into Sherlocks shoulder and stayed there. Sherlock tensed up, partly because John was leaning against fresh cuts but mostly because John was actually leaning on him. After the last 4 bites Sherlock moved his arm and wrapped it around Johns shoulders. They both smiled and leaned in more.
"John" Sherlock swallowed loudly. " I think I may love you"
John looked up and smiled at the taller man,"the feeling is mutual" he sat up a bit and placed a small kiss to Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock almost jerked away but forced himself not to. That was another "side effect" of Victor, Sherlock was scared that any attempt at affection would end in being hit, insulted, or held down and forcibly penetrated. He decided then that he would try his best not to let his past with Victor ruin the chance he had with John.
The movie finished and John stood up and stretched along with Sherlock.
He walked over to the detective and kiss his cheek once more before whispering, " Good night beautiful, see you in the morning"
Sherlock stood in shock. John called HIM beautiful. No one had ever called him that.

Chapter Text

Sherlock made sure to get up before John that morning to make them breakfast. He found that if it made John happy to see him eat just a little bit he could. Sherlock was a awful cook, anyone who had ever asked him to cook knew that. He decided that he could fix toast, eggs, and fruit without ruining it. The toast came up a moment before John entered the kitchen. He was still In his dressing robe and John was in a white t shirt and sweat pants. John came over and hugged him gently. "You made breakfast?"

"Obviously " one could only expect that answer from Sherlock but he said it with a fondness that usually didn't appear in his voice. Sherlock put a little of each thing on a plate for John and put a few pieces of cut up fruit on his. John smiled and they made their usual conversation until...

"John" Sherlock asked, internally nervous.

"Hmm" John replied casually

"What are we?" Sherlock said, finally lifting his eyes to meet Johns.

"Ah, I don't know what would you like to be?" John asked with a hopeful tone.

Sherlock mumbled something incoherent

"Sherlock you'll have to speak up" John said, taking a sip of juice.

"Yours." Sherlock spoke in a delicate tone.

The answer was short and simple but so sweet.

"Really?" John asked with a smile playing on his lips.

The curly haired man look up and nodded " I understand if that's not what you want. I mean how could you want me, look at me."

"You're perfect Sherlock." John spoke with sincerity.

He scoffed " I am anything but perfect John"

"Well, no one is perfect but your perfect to me and if it's alright with you I would love to be yours as well" John replied.

It was as if fireworks went off in Sherlocks eyes "really? You're not just messing with me?"

"God no, I would never do that." John said quietly and reached across the table to take Sherlocks hand.

"John you probably know this, but I'm new to this whole relationship thing and I don't know how it's supposed to work, what I'm supposed to do, or really anything about it. I'm sorry if I screw it all up" he was rambling but was sincere.

" you won't 'screw it up' Sherlock, just do what you feel comfortable with and everything will be fine. Okay?" John reassured him.

Sherlock nodded and squeezed His bloggers hand before leaving to go shower. When John looked over he noticed Sherlock had only taken one bite out of a slice of Apple. He sighed and cleared the table before getting ready to go to the surgery.

Earlier in the bathroom Sherlock forced himself to throw up any remains of what was in his stomach before taking a shower. He heard John leave for work and anticipated his return.

When John came home he had a bag from Tesco and a bottle of wine.
" I thought we could have spaghetti and wine." He announced

"I ate this morning I'm not hungry, I'll sit with you though. I believe a new episode of Doctor Who comes on tonight." Sherlock said, hoping to avoid confrontation.
"Sherlock" John had that 'I mean business' look in his eye "you had one bite of an apple slice."

"Since when are you so concerned about my eating habits?! You never cared this much before!" Sherlock shot back icily.

"Because you ate enough to at least keep you halfway healthy!" John all but yelled in frustration.

"I .AM.FINE!" With that Sherlock stomped out of the room and slammed his door.
After an hour John felt guilty for yelling at Sherlock. He walked to the door and knocked. No answer. He opened and saw Sherlocks small frame on the bed.
"Can I sit down?"

"Mmhm" Sherlock hummed quietly.

John went over and sat on the edge of the mattress and ran his fingers thorough Sherlocks hair. "Can we talk, calmly."

He felt Sherlock nod.

"Okay, I'm sorry for being upset with you earlier. I shouldn't have been as harsh. Sherlock I'm not going to press you to tell me anything but I know something's wrong and I want to help you. Honestly anything you want at Tesco I will get it for you if you'll eat it. You don't have to eat a feast, even something like a can of soup would make me happy. I don't want to lose you again"

"You won't" the detective spoke with sincere conviction in his voice.

John sighed and went to leave, but to his pleasant surprise Sherlock followed him.

"Want any help with the spaghetti?" Sherlock offered with a smile.

Chapter Text

Sherlock managed to eat around 10 bites of spaghetti and drink all of his wine. After John cleaned up the kitchen he went and sat on the sofa and turned on the telly. Sherlock was busy poking some poor animal with a sharp stick to notice John talking to him.
"Sherlock?" He repeated until the detective looked up and he patten the spot next to him, a silent command of 'please come sit with me'
Sherlock got the hint and removed his goggles and latex gloves and sat down close next to John. He was stiff and it was easily noticeable.
"Hey, just relax okay? Everything's fine." John whispered before wrapping his arm around Sherlock. He intended for the taller man to rest on his shoulder but Sherlock moved completely and put his head in Johns lap. John smiled and slowly ran his fingers thorough the dark curls. It was only a matter of 10 minutes before Sherlock had surprisingly fallen asleep.
The blogger would have liked for his detective to stay there forever but unfortunately, he had to use the bathroom. He let his hand rest on Sherlocks shoulder and he shook him slightly.
"Sherlock, I have to pee" John said in an amused tone.
"Then go" Sherlock replied.
"I can't, you’re in my lap." Sherlock moved up long enough for John to get up and then laid back down.
"Will you be back down?" He called as John disappeared by the steps.
"Yeah" he called back
When John came back, they took up their positions until it was time to go to bed. Sherlock got up leaving Johns lap feeling cold and empty.
Sherlock hadn't been asleep; he had been building up the courage to this.
"Good night John, thank you for dinner and for not hating me." He bent down and kissed the top of Johns hair and moved to walk away when John caught his hand.
"I could never hate you. Please get that into your brilliant head." He gave Sherlocks hand a gentle squeeze and then let him to his room.
"JOHN" Sherlock called out
It was 6am and John’s day off, he hadn't planned on getting up for at least another 4 hours.
"Mmm" John mumbled.
"WE HAVE A CASE! GET UP! A WHOLE FAMILY HAS BEEN KILLED!" Sherlock said as he walked around the room enthusiastically.
John looked up at the over excited man in his room "A whole family has been killed and you're excited?"
"Aren't you?" Sherlock questioned.
"A bit not good, love. Families shouldn't be dead" John stated.
"Love?" Sherlocks voice grew quiet and John’s eyes went wide when he realized what he has said.
"Sorry, just came out." John said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"No, it's fine I uh like it." Sherlock spoke in a gentle tone.

"I'll be ready in 10 minutes, Kay?" John said as he moved to change into his day clothes.
Sherlock moved out of the room and disappeared down the steps.

"Where's Lestrade?" Sherlock called out to no one in particular.
"Hey freak" Donovan said from behind them
"Where's Lestrade, he called me here since you and Anderson can't do anything correctly beside cheat on each other.
"Sherlock Holmes you are the most awful human being I have ever met." She spit back at him.
"Shut up and tell us where Greg is." John cut in, obviously getting frustrated with Sally's insults.
"3rd floor of the building room 345" she said waving her hand toward the building.
They walked off without another word to her
"Who's Greg?" Sherlock asked confused.
John mentally face palmed. " Greg is Lestrade's name Sherlock."
"Really?" sherlock asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yes" John replied.
When they arrived in the room it looked like world war 2. Bloody hand prints and smears covered the once white walls. Sherlock began looking around.
"Adult male found near the door, probably because he was trying to protect his family, meaning he loved them enough to risk his life. Steady relationship, but struggled financially. Adult female pressed against the bedroom door, obviously wanting to see if her husband was alright. With her was 3 children by the looks of it ages 10,7, and 4. The door was not opened until you all opened it and found them correct? " Sherlock spoke quickly.
"Yes" Lestrade replied.
"Then there wasn't just one attacker. Someone had to shoot the mother and 3 children in that room and escape through the same room because the door was never opened. The impressions on the carpet are feint, probably because your team of idiots have already plowed through here and walked over them. But I would guess you are looking for a large built man, size 10 shoe size, probably around 210 pounds, that's who killed the wife a kids. However, a woman, size 8 feet, probably 146 pounds, shoulder length blonde hair killed the father. No doubt these two were working together, but what was their motive? Simple, John, look at the features of the parents and then of the children. What is wrong with that picture?"
John moved thought the house and them finally to the kids.
"The middle doesn't have any of the traits of his brother and sister or of the parents. I would say he is adopted."
"Brilliant John, the middle child. Adopted from the local orphanage 15 months ago. Biological parents decided they wanted him back, tried asking nicely but was denied, so what happens when people don't get their way? They get angry. The both of them broke into this house knowing how the parents would react, so they planned it. While the wife shot down the father, the husband attempted to shoot the mother and 2 kids, what he didn't know is that his son was in between the 2 kids and when he shot the girl, he also shot his son. After realizing that, he freaked out and yelled to the living room to tell his wife. Now, the wife didn't intend to kill the father, she wanted to distract him long enough for her husband to grab the kid and sneak out through the emergency stairs, BUT when the husband told his wife of the mistake she shot the father, thinking since there was no witnesses they couldn't be caught. God people are so dull." Sherlock said tilting his head back.
"Alright, thank you boys, we will need you to come down to the yard and fill out the paperwork." Lestrade said shaking John’s hand.
Sherlock had already started walking away when John thanked Greg and jogged to catch up with him.
"Sherlock, you are absolutely brilliant." John said smiling
Sherlock blushed profusely "thank you John, you did remarkably well"
Once they turned the corner John took Sherlocks hand and immediately felt the taller man’s breath hitch and his eyes fell on him, but thankfully he didn't object.
"Breakfast?" Sherlock asked, "I'll buy."
"Sure" John smiled, and they headed toward a little cafe. John had an omelet and Sherlock had coffee, John let it go as long as he promised to eat a little bit of lunch or dinner.
Words couldn't express how thankful he was that John didn't press him to eat breakfast. One thing he hated more than eating was eating out, he felt like everyone was staring and judging him.
When they came back to the flat John went back to bed and Sherlock went to his mind palace.

Chapter Text

The day passed with no significant events happening. They said goodnight as usual and retreated to their normal rooms. Sherlock had managed to avoid eating for the entire day without John noticing and he was grateful for that, it's not that he wanted to upset John, quite the opposite actually. He just honestly believed that if he gained anymore weight john wouldn't love him. He stepped onto the scale. Half a pound more than yesterday. Disappointment and shame came over him and he purged anything he could get out of his stomach.

John heard something from upstairs and moved quickly to see what it was. He moved into Sherlocks room and saw him bent over the toilet with his tooth brush half down his throat.

"Sherlock stop." He said softly but with enough force to let Sherlock know he meant it.

If Sherlock hadn't felt ashamed before he did now. He was angry at him self for not noticing John was coming down and angry for being caught. He reached and sat the tooth brush back on the sink and slumped down against the toilet. John placed what was supposed to be a comforting hand on Sherlock shoulder but the detective shook it off.

"Hey, it's alright" John sank down to his knees beside Sherlock and brought him into his chest. "I'm not mad."

"Why?" sherlock asked, hurt and confusion evident in his voice.

"Why am I not mad?" John asked gently

Sherlock nodded.

"Why would I be mad at you, I just want to help you." He squeezed him a bit tighter. " do you want to be alone?"

He shook his head and whimpered "no"

"Alright, let's go to the sofa yeah?" John said, dropping a kiss to the mop of dark curls below him.

They got off the floor and Sherlock quickly brushed his teeth and then followed john to the living room. John laid down on the sofa and held his arms out.

The detective placed himself with his back to John’s chest and waited to an arm to be draped over him.

John was asleep within 20 minutes, but Sherlock never did fall asleep. He waited and waited until morning and finally John woke up.

" did you ever sleep" John asked tiredly

"No" Sherlock stated plainly.

John ran his fingers though the dark curls and gently kissed the back of his head. "You alright"

"I don't need your pity John." Sherlock said with conviction in his voice.

"I'm not pitying you, I just care" John said softly as he continued to play with the tall mans hair.

"You didn't a month ago" Sherlock mumbled

"Yes I did, I was just in denial" John said in a slightly defensive tone.

No response.

"Get up, help me fix breakfast." John attempted to lighten the mood

"Not hungry." Sherlocks replied as usual when John questioned him about food.

"Don't care, help me fix it." John said flatly.

Reluctantly Sherlock budged from the sofa and sluggishly walked to the kitchen and handed John things from the fridge.

John fixed an ordinary small breakfast with eggs, some hash browns, and fruit. They say across from each other and John held his fork out to Sherlock with a bite of egg on it. " please?"

Sherlock shook his head and took another sip of his tea.

" can we talk about it?" John asked in a caution tone

"What is there to talk about, you obviously know what's going on" sherlock said hurt and embarrassed.

" I want to hear it from you" John said taking a sip of water

" I just think I need to lose weight" Sherlock said avoiding Johns gaze and silently pleading for this conversation to be done with.

" Sherlock I can see every bone in your body." John said, his tone rising.

"Bullshit" Sherlock shot back

"No it's not. I can." John said, laying his fork down on his plate with a clanking sound.

Sherlock sighed and then moved to get up from the table.

"No, stay here, we are going to talk about this sooner or later" John called after him.

"WHY THE HELL DO WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT WHEN MYCROFT ALREADY TOLD YOU THE WHOLE BLOODY STORY!" Sherlock said, his voice close to trembling.

"How'd you know that?" Johns tone softened again.

" I'm Sherlock I know things!" the detective said with a hand movement.

"God damnit I'm just trying to help you." John said, growing frustrated.

Sherlock laughed sarcastically, " no you don't! You just want to feel more special than everyone else, you want to think I care about you, but guess what John I don't! You mean nothing to me! Your nothing but a run-down soldier with an addiction to adrenaline and using me for your fix!"

Hurt came over Johns face and he look down at the table. " I'll go then. I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience."

Sherlock quickly realized what he said, " John, don't. I-"

"No Sherlock, you did. I'll be out by this evening." John said, the hurt evident in his voice.

John moved up stairs and started packing things, Sherlock just continued to stand in the kitchen with a blank look on his face. Wondering what the hell he had done. And if John was really going to leave.

John moved down the steps and past Sherlock.

"John" Sherlock said with a sigh.

"I don't know if I'll be back for the rest of my stuff today or not." He shot angrily

"That wasn't what I was going to say, John I'm-" Sherlock was almost begging to speak.

"I don't want to hear it" John said angrily

Sherlock grabbed John’s shoulder and griped it tightly.

"Ow, Sherlock let go." John said, trying to shake the mans hand off.

"No, not until you listen to me" Sherlock pleased.

"I've heard enough from you this morning thanks" John scoffed

"Did it ever occur to you that it upsets me to talk about it!" Sherlocks voice cracked

"Did it ever occur to you that what you said hurt me!" John shot back.

"Yes! I'm trying to apologize it but you aren't letting me!" Sherlock was fighting back the tears that pricked his eyes.

The shorter man opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it and look at Sherlock as if saying 'go on'

"John, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I did. It was wrong and way out of line. I didn't mean it. I-I was angry because, John it really hurts to remember everything and-" A single tear had fallen from sherlocks eye and John moved to wipe it away and Sherlock all but screamed and shied away

"What?! What did I do?" John asked in a panicked tone.

"I thought you were going to hit me" Sherlock said, his voice trembling.

John’s heart felt like it had shattered " my god, Sherlock I promise I would never hit you. Come here" he moved toward the scared man before and wrapped him up in his arms.

"Don't leave" Sherlock spoke softly.

"I won't, ever" John promised.

The taller man moved away and wiped the tears off his face and apologized quickly

John dismissed the apology and took his stuff back upstairs.

Chapter Text

While John placed his stuff back into his room Sherlock called and made reservations at Angelo's and hung up before John came back down.

" busy tonight?" Sherlock asked

"No, don't think so why?"

"Just curious."

"I've gotta go alright"

"What, why?"

" Work Sherlock. Some of us have regular jobs."

The detective nodded and got up to hug John before he left.

"Mm what was that for?"

" isn't that what people do? Hug to say goodbye?"

"Suppose so, I just didn't expect it from you" John felt Sherlock tense "doesn't mean I don't like it though" the lanky man pressed against him relaxed.

"Sherl, I gotta go, I'll be late"

He let go " don't call me that"

"We'll see. Don't explode the flat!" John called running down the steps and out the door.

***********************************************

John returned to the flat at 6:07 and Sherlock informed him he needed to get ready and dressed.

"What am I dressing for?"

"Dinner"

"Dinner?"

"You know i hate repeating myself "

"What should I wear? What kind of dinner?"

"Angelo's"

" alright"

John moved to his room and put on a red button down and khakis.

In the room below Sherlock paced, throwing different shirts all over the room trying to decide what to wear. He officially felt like a 15 year old girl about to go on her first date. He finally decided on a royal blue silk button down and put his normal suit jacket over it.

When he came out from his bed room John was already down and sitting on the couch but quickly stood.

"You look nice" Sherlock said blushing.

A quick smile swept over johns face " thank you, so do you."

The tall man looked down trying to hide the blush. "Ready?"

"Yep"

They moved out the door and hailed a cab and soon arrived at Angelo's.
Sherlock held the door for John and was quickly thanked and escorted by the waitress to their usual table.

"Sherlock! John! How are you?" Angelo said upon arriving to their table.

They answered fine and placed their order. John ordered chicken Parmesan and Sherlock ordered shrimp Alfredo.

"Almost forgot the candle!" Angelo said coming near them holding a small flame.

They finished their meal, sherlock eating all but a few bites. This made John smile and reach under the table to squeeze his knee.

They walked out side and stood for a moment before either of them spoke. It was John who broke the silence, " thank you for tonight"

"You deserve it."

"Whys that?"

"You put up with me" sherlock said smiling.

" I enjoy it. Never bored." He laughed.

" I envy you for that. Cab or walk home?"

"I'm fine to walk, you?"

"'S fine"

They began walking to Baker Street when John shivered and Sherlock quickly took off his coat and wrapped it over Johns shoulders.

"Sherlock, that's alright"

" you did it for me once, consider it a re payment and a sign of affection"

This made John smile, remembering that first day at the park. "Thanks"

When they reached 221b they went up stairs and hung up their scarves and jacket.

"John?"

The shorter man turned to look at Sherlock but was met with a gentle hand at the side of his face and pulled into a kiss. When he realized what was happening he wrapped an arm around sherlock a small waist and kissed back. They continued like this for what felt like hours and seconds at the same time. It was the best kiss either of them had ever received. When they finally pulled apart they just looked at each other.

" John, I can't promise you a perfect and easy or even a halfway normal relationship but I swear I will try my hardest to make it work. I've never been as happy as when I am with you. I wouldn't trade a moment with you for anything, not even the greatest murder if it meant I couldn't solve it with you."

John was speechless and leaned up on his tip toes and pulled Sherlock into another kiss, " I don't want a perfect, easy, or normal relationship.i just want one with you. I know things will be difficult sometimes, and that's okay. I will never push you to do anything you don't want to. Promise me something yeah?" Sherlock nodded " never push yourself to do something you're uncomfortable with."

"Okay. Thank you John"

"For what, love?"

Sherlocks breath hitched at the pet name " I don't know, I suppose It just felt like the right thing to say"

" we should go up stairs"

"What, oh, um John I don't know if I'm rea-"

"Not like that, I mean just, ah, get out of mrs Hudson's doorway."

"Oh, right."

" sorry, should have clarified that"

They moved upstairs and watched doctor who for a bit. John leaning in the corner of the sofa with Sherlocks head in his lap.

"John"

"Hmmm"

" can you please play with my hair"

John smiled fondly at the man resting in his lap. " of course"

"Sorry"

"Why are you apologizing?"

" it's a stupid thing to ask"

"No it's not, hey, don't be afraid to ask me for anything, Kay?"

Sherlock nodded and the feeling definitely had an effect on a certain part of Johns anatomy. He tried to ignore it but it was very persistent. He was sure Sherlock had noticed but if he did he didn't say anything, and for that John was grateful.

"I'm going to bed, try and get some sleep." He said leaning down to kiss the man before him.

"Stay"

"I have work in the morning"

"Just a few more minutes, please?"

John sighed and readjusted himself and went back to playing with Sherlocks hair.

He waited 10 minutes before leaning down and kissing him again " I need to go"

"Fine" Sherlock replied as he sat up proceeded to straddle johns hips.

"Sherlock"

"John"

"What are you doing"

" I thought it was obvious, I'm sitting on you"

"Yes but why"

Sherlock kissed him deeply. One hand behind johns head and the other feeling up and down his chest.

"Mm Sherlock, I really do need to shower and go to bed"

" goodnight" one more kiss and Sherlock was off. John now with a raging hard erection walked as normally as he could to the bathroom before stripping off and showering.

Chapter Text

Sherlock went to bed that night happier than he could ever remember being. John wanted him, even with all of his flaws. He was the only person he had ever met who would put up with his sulking and not be mad at him on a regular basis. In one word Sherlock felt loved. That night Sherlock fell asleep with a smile on his face.

***********************************************

When morning came there was a text from Lestrade waiting on Sherlocks phone. Apparently there had been a reported disappearance, and since the workers in the Yard can't seem to do their job, he was needed.

"Morning" John said as he saw Sherlock emerge from the hallway and into the kitchen.

Sherlock didn't replay but leaned down to kiss John instead.

"Why are you dressed?"

"Lestrade texted, missing person, I'm of course needed."

"I have to work so I can't go, be careful okay?"

"I'll try" he said moving to leave. He grabbed his coat and gave John another quick peck and left.

***********************************************

It was one of those days that John only had to work half a day but it felt like he had been at the surgery a week. When he left he texted Sherlock and asked where he was and went to the address sent.

When the doctor walked past the police tape Sally was the first to greet him.

"Come for the freak?"
"Nope, I came for Sherlock not you." He said as he kept walking.

"Greg!" He shouted when he saw the DI.

"Hey John, how are you?"

" can't complain, you?"

"Fine. Sherlocks inside, not sure where at the moment though."

"Alright, pub tonight?"

"Sure, my wife and I are off again so I could use something to do"

"Sorry about that. Hope things work out."

Greg shrugged and motioned Sherlock over with his hand when he came into view.

"Off early?" The detective asked

John nodded." Who is missing and why?"

"Ah, she seems to be kidnaped although I don't seem to have caught her name. Grant what was it?"

It had been decided a long time ago that Lestrade decided not to correct Sherlock when he messed up his name. " her name was Emily Trevor"

Shock seemed to come over Sherlocks face. " I'm done with this case."

"What? You solved it?!"

"No. I mean I don't want to work on it anymore."

"Why not? Your always eager to get a case"

"Not this one. I don't want any of her relatives to know I ever looked at this. I mean it Lestrade, my name is never mentioned in the context of this crime scene ever." With that Sherlock moved quick to leave and get a cab, John had to run to catch up with him.

"Sherlock!"

"What?"

"Where are you going?!"

"Home"

"Can you wait." Sherlock stopped at a stand still and waited for John before moving again.

John pulled him behind a building and reached out to place his hand on the right side of Sherlocks waist.
"Hey, what's wrong"

"Please don't touch me right now"

John moved his hand as quick as if Sherlocks waist had been a hot stove. "Sorry, what's wrong"

"Nothing" Sherlock was calm, unlike a few moments ago.

"Something was obviously wrong"

"I'm fine. Let's go home."

" have you eaten today"

"No"

"Let's go have lunch then, I'll buy"

" I'm not hungry"

" you need to eat today"

"John, please don't. Not today"

" Tell me what's wrong"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and went to hail a cab.

"Freak!"

"What do you want Sally"

" 's not me, the victims brother wanted to speak to you."

Sherlocks breath hitched and he went into a silent panic. "I'm not Interested, good day."

"You need to speak with him considering you just invaded the place where his sister disappeared."

" I have nothing to say to him."

"You don't even bloody know him"

Sherlock managed to get a cabs attention and quickly got in, leaving both John and Sally behind him.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I was wondering the same thing"

"Well I have to get back, good luck calming down the freak"

John sighed in frustration and began looking for a cab.

***********************************************

John came home to a silent flat. Sherlock wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, that only left the bedrooms and bathroom.

"Sherlock!" John called throughout the flat.

He looked in his room and then Sherlocks room. He heard the shower switch on. He knocked on the door " Sherlock, you alright?"

"Fine"

"What are you doing"

"What do you think"

" showering?"

"Brilliant John you should take over my job."

He could practically see Sherlock rolling his eyes as he said it.

"Wrap a towel around you I'm coming in"

"No"

"Why not?"

"I'm in the shower, naked"

"I need my phone, I left it in there." It wasn't a total lie, he had left his phone... charger.

He heard a thump and got no response from the detective that was allegedly in the shower. He picked the lock and saw Sherlock laying in the bath, he had fallen and cut his head, blood tainted the water and even though John had seen enough blood and injury for a life time, the sight of his bleeding unconscious flatmate disturbed him. He brushed away those thoughts and lifted Sherlock so that he sat up against the back of the tub.

"Sherlock, love. I need you to wake up"

Nothing.

"Sherlock."

The detectives wet curls moved slowly as he came to.

"You're alright. You just fell. Nothing serious, just a cut or two, head injuries bleed a lot."

Sherlock was drowsy and couldn't do much besides nod at what John was saying.

John lifter Sherlock out of the bath and took him to his room.

"I'll be back with a towel okay?"

Sherlock nodded. he was still naked and freaking out on the inside, but his body didn't have to strength to show it on the outside.

John came back with 2 purple towels and smiled " they're warm, mrs Hudson just brought them up."

John began to dry Sherlock off, starting with his hair and moving down. When he reached Sherlocks arms he realized that there probably hundrents of cuts, some healed and scared over, some new, and some healing.

"Sherlock"

The man below him refused to look at him. "Please leave. I can finish by my self thanks, this has been embarrassing enough."

" I need to help you, you're not stable enough right now"

"Leave, you will anyway"

"Why do you think I'm going to leave?"

"Everyone always does"

" I thought we had established I'm not everyone."

" I can't give you what you want John"

" Sherlock I don't want anything right now, I want to get you dressed and make sure you don't have a concision."

John moved back to drying him but decided against running the towel over his penis and proceeded to dress him. He saw all the marks on Sherlocks legs and inner thighs.

"Stop"

"Stop what?"

"Staring, it makes me uncomfortable"

"Sorry."

When he finished drying and dressing him he laid down next to him and ran his fingers through Sherlocks hair.

"Are you going to send me to a mental ward now?"

"No"

"Tell Mycroft?"

"No"

"Then what?"

"Try my best to help you"

" I shouldn't be a problem you have to deal with John"

" your not a problem. Will you tell me why you dropped the case?"

"Emily Trevor" Sherlock sighed, " I know her family"

"Family friends"

"God no"

"Enemies then?"

"Yes"

" I might as well tell you, you will find out one way or another."

"Tell me what"

"Her brother, the one that wanted to speak to me, is Victor Trevor"

John was quiet a minute, was this the Victor Mycroft spoke of that day?

John sighed and tipped Sherlocks chin up to look at him " the Victor tha-"

"Yes. That Victor." A tear hit the pillow case and John reached out to pull Sherlock close.

They laid there for minutes just cuddling as John tried to comfort him.

" I won't let him hurt you, I promise. I won't let him near you"

Sherlock nodded and placed a closed mouth kiss to johns chest.

Chapter Text

" you should be stable now, you have rested and the bleeding stopped a while ago, want to come to tesco with me?"

"Why? I never do the shopping?"

" didn't think you would want to be alone"

"Good point" Sherlock sighed and got up from the bed and went to get dressed.

When he came out and got his coat he thanked John for caring for him and not leaving.

**********************************************

Sherlock managed not to complain through most of the trip. John stopped in the medicine aisle to get some pain killers for his shoulder and Sherlocks head. He found them and was ready to move when he looked over at Sherlock and saw him holding a pack of condoms and looking at them.

John couldn't help but smile. " grab them if you want them and let's go, we have frozens."

Sherlock blushed furiously and put them back on the shelf.

" don't want them?"

"Shut up"

John laughed "I'm being serious, you want them?"

" don't need them, why would I buy them"

" I don't know, you just seemed interested"

"Sex interests me. I hate it, but it's still intriguing"

" you might not hate it if-"

" john, despite what everyone thinks, I have had sex."

" that wasn't sex Sherlock. I mean technically it was, but that isn't how it's supposed to be"

"Doesn't matter, I'm never having sex again. Sorry, you'll leave in approximately 3 months"

"Why would I leave"

" your a very sexual man John. You want that in a relationship, I can't give that to you. You will grow tired of pornography and your hand and break it off"

" could you please get it out of your head that I am going to leave you, Sherlock Holmes I am not going to leave you. I don't care if we never have sex, I'm not with you because I want to have sex, I'm with you because I love you and everything you are" as soon as those 3 words came out he wished he could take it back. It wasn't that he didn't love Sherlock because he did, but they hadn't been together long and John didn't want to rush it.

" you love me?"

"Yes but I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that -"

Sherlock cut him off with a kiss " i love you too"

" really?"

Sherlock nodded "let's go home"

Chapter Text

It was their 1 month anniversary, they had agreed on no gifts but Sherlock still wanted to do something special because he knew it would please John.

He fixed chicken piccata and had it ready just before John arrived. When he heard their door open he quickly went down the steps to greet John. He kissed him and said happy anniversary against his lips. The shorter man smiled and said the same.

"Did you cook"

"Yes I made chicken piccata, hungry?"

"Starving, let me change out of my work clothes and I'll come join you. You are eating right?"

"Yes"

"Good" he pecked his cheek and went upstairs.

They were almost finished with their meal. John had eaten all of his an Sherlock only had a few bites left of his.

" I didn't know you could cook"

" I can't, mrs Hudson helped"

They both giggled and helped the other clean up the dishes before retreating to the couch. They originally planned to watch Americas most wanted but Sherlock had something else on his mind, and that something else was John. Within the first 10 minutes of the show Sherlock started pressing kisses to John neck and cheek before turning him around and laying him on the couch. Sherlock was absolutely leaving no piece of his neck un-kissed. John couldn't help but let out a moan and a couple breathily whimpers. John was perfectly fine with this until Sherlock started trying to remove his jumper.

"Sherlock, are you sure about this?"

" yes" another kiss to Johns neck

He let Sherlock remove the jumper and kiss across his chest.

"May I?" He asked pulling at Sherlocks button down. There was slight hesitation but the detective nodded.

Sherlock shirt fell off and the beautiful ivory skin was revealed. " god your so beautiful"

"Thank you"

John switched their positions so Sherlock was on his back. He placed kissed all over Sherlock torso. Over each one of his visible ribs and protruding hip bones. " I love you so much"

"And i love you" Sherlock was getting tense as John moved down and it was noticeable. He removed himself from Sherlocks torso and moved back up to kiss him.

" you alright? Want to stop?"

"Please, I'm sorry"

"No don't apologize, you can't help it. I'm glad you told me rather than letting me go further and making you uncomfortable. You did so good baby."

There was an over whelming amount of emotion inside of Sherlock and he couldn't help but to pull John onto his chest and hold him there.

"I meant it you know."

" meant what?" John asked

"That i love you"

" i love you more"

" we are not doing that" Sherlock said " we are not acting like 15 year old love birds"

John laughed fondly "okay"

"None of that either"

"I can't say okay?"

"Not if you're going to want me to reply okay In return, like that book about a mistake in the stars and everyone in it is dying"

"The fault in our stars?"

"Yes"

"I didn't plan on my okay coming across like that"

"John"

"Sherlock"

"I love you "

"I love you too"

Sherlock squeezed him tighter placed a kiss to the top of his hair.

**********************************************

A few weeks passed when John got a random text from Mycroft that simply read "danger night" there had only been one other time that John and Mycroft had spoken of Sherlocks so called ' danger nights' Mycroft originally told him that they were times he would have a stronger feeling than usual to use drugs, but John new they now referred to more than the drugs, it applied to the irregular eating and the self harm methods as well.

John took a deep breath and walked down the steps.

"Love"

"Hmm"

"Good morning"

"Morning?"

"What?"

"You never put 'good' In front of morning when you great me."

"Maybe I'm just having a good morning" John said leaning over to kiss Sherlock but lost his balance and fell half on the floor half on Sherlocks lap.

"What is wrong with you John"

"Nothing, can't I be in a good mood"

Sherlock said nothing but just kept reading his book.
"Breakfast?"
"No"
There was a sign, it had been a while since he turned down breakfast when John made it.
" I'm making French toast, please?"
"No, I just don't want breakfast today"
"Fine"

John laid his head back in Sherlocks lap and nuzzled into Sherlock dressing gown. The man above him gave him an odd look but quickly returned to his book.

The moment John started pressing kisses to his bare skin Sherlock put down his book and pulled John up to kiss him properly.

"Are you horny"

John laughed " that's a bold question. No not really though, you?"

"Never. You act like you are"

"I'm not, let's go get breakfast then"

"John why are you so insistent on me eating this morning"

" because I want breakfast and I want to share it with the person" kiss "I " kiss "love" kiss.

" i love you too but god your acting weird. Go on make French toast."

"You will eat it?"

"Yes"

"And keep it down"

"Yes John"

John made breakfast and sure enough Sherlock ate.

"I'm really proud of you, ya know."

"For eating?"

"Yes, I know it's not easy for you to but your doing so well."

"I've almost gained half a stone, I hate myself more everyday for it"

"Don't hate yourself for it. You look even more handsome than you did when we started dating"

" thanks, I think."

***********************************************

John assumed Mycroft was wrong about tonight being a danger night because Sherlock had been in a good mood all day.

"I'm going to the pub with Greg for a bit will you be alright?"

"who is Greg?"

"Lestrade, Sherlock"

"Oh okay. Yeah I'll be fine, don't get drunk you know I hate it when you are"

"I won't" John came over and kissed him and left.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When John left Sherlock let every ounce of pain, hurt, shame, and regret wash over him. Tonight 8 years ago was the night Sherlock was raped. He sat there on the sofa and cried. He was trying not to do anything to harm himself because it would upset John but eventually he didn't care. He ran to the bathroom and purged before grabbing the razor he had hidden, removed his shirt and began cutting his arms and shoulders. It wasn't enough. He had to go deeper.

Blood was all over the once white tiles. The place looked like many murder scenes he had worked on. He was drifting in and out of consciousness and knew this was not how John should find him. But he couldn't move. He picked up his phone and called John.

"Sherlock"

"John" he was still crying, " please come home. I need you."

John was already putting on his coat. " what's wrong? Sherlock! Listen I need you to stay on the phone."

"Trying"

" can you tell me whats happened?"

The line went dead and John ran out to get a cab. He paid extra to get there quicker. When he arrived at 221b he threw money at the cab and ran up the steps.

"SHERLOCK!"

No reply.

John ran to the bathroom and saw his lover laying on the floor, blood everywhere but not sure where the source of it was. He crouched down and sat Sherlock up against the wall, his curled matted with blood.

"Sherlock, where did you cut?! I need to know where to apply pressure?"

Sherlock looked to his left arm and John picked it up, wrapping cloth around it. While he held pressure he used a warm rag to try and clean him up.

"Sherlock, god the bleeding isn't lightening up I need to call the paramedics. I'm so sorry"

"Don't you dare call them" Sherlock was yelling with what little strength he had.

"I have to! I'm sorry"

" call Mycroft, not A&E"

Calling mycroft hadn't even crossed Johns mind. He was worried that he would be pissed at him for leaving Sherlock alone but that wasn't the concern right now.

"Mycroft! Look I need you to send medically trained people or something, you were right it was a danger night I'm so sorry I left him"

"John, drive him to the hospital. I'll have people waiting, how bad is it?"

"He lost a lot of blood and it's still coming. I gotta go be there soon"

He ran to Sherlocks side and lifted him up, the only time Sherlock being so light came in handy. There was a car waiting and he placed him in.

"John"

"Shh, don't talk you need to keep your strength." He leaned down and kissed his forehead " god I'm so sorry I left you."

"It's not your fault."

Sherlocks eyes closed but would re open periodically.

They got there and Sherlock was rushed through the halls with John on the paramedics heals, but a door was slammed in his face and he knew he had to stay out.

Chapter Text

Hours passed and not once did John leave the small waiting room. Mycroft had left an hour after being there so he was alone. Leastrade came in and sat down next to him.

"How is he?"

"Don't know. They won't tell me anything"

"I'm sure he'll be alright. At least I hope so"

John nodded

"You gonna be okay? I just thought I would stop in before heading to work."

"What time is it?"

"It's 8:30 mate, have you been here since they put him in?"

"Yeah, I didn't know it had been all night."

"God john, that's not healthy go home and get some sleep"

"No I should be here when he wa-"

"Sherlock Holmes" a nurse in a pastel green scrub set called

John stood and walked over.

"He is asking for you"

The doctor took a deep breath and followed where the nurse took him. When he walked through the door he saw Sherlock propped up on the bed. IVs hooked up to him and heavy bandages around his left arm.

"Hey"

Sherlock looked over and gave john a feint smile.

"How are you feeling"

"Physically, fine"

"What about internally"

He just shrugged.

"I'm so sorry i left you"

"It's not your fault john, I would have found a way to do it anyway."

"Why, why did you do it?"

"Deserved it"

"Bloody hell sherlock" John raised his voice a bit "you certainly did not deserve it. Why was it a danger night and why did mycroft know about it?"

"It was 8 years ago last night"

John realized what he menu and nodded his head in understanding. "Why didn't you tell me, you knew I was worried anyway."

"Didn't want to upset you."

John took sherlocks right hand and gave it a light squeeze, " please come to me next time"

The detective nodded and let out a long breath "how long have you been here?"

"Since you were admitted"

"You should go home and sleep."

"Can't"

"What?"

"I can't sleep at home knowing your here."

"Then lay here, with me"

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't"Sherlock moved back the thin hospital blankets. John got out of the chair and climbed in next to Sherlock being cautious not to wrap his arms around him or touch him in anyway that would make him uncomfortable. He thought since the remembrance of victor was so strong right now that he shouldn't touch him.

Sherlock wrapped his right arm around john and pulled him close. "Please don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Treat me like I'm broken. Even though I may be and only to you would I admit it, but I don't want you to treat me any different than you usually do."

"Okay, I'm sorry"

" 's fine"

***********************************************

John had been in a peaceful sleep for about two hours when Mycroft came in.

"Wake him and I will destroy you" Sherlock muttered before mycroft could even get a word out.

"I had no intention of waking him brother mine. I'm sure he needs the rest. He hadn't left once. You scared him sherlock"

" I know"

"So I know you haven't told anyone but of course I know, relationship life treating you well?"

"Yes, maybe you should consider trying to be decent enough to engauage in a relationship."

Mycroft laughed a little too loud and john stirred. Sherlock sent him a death stare. " oh brother, you aren't 'decent enough to have a relationship' you just got lucky"

"I don't believe in luck"

"I'll be going. Try to behave"

Sherlock rolled his eyes as mycroft left the room and john stirred in his arms.

"Why was he here?"

"I'm going to kill him for waking you up"

"It's alright I was going to wake up pretty soon anyway"

" John"

"Hmm"

"Are you hungry, I suppose a little bit. You?"

"Yes and no"

"I'll go get some food from the cafeteria and-"

"Ew no, mrs Hudson is on her way over ill have her bring Indian if that's good with you?"

"Yeah that's fine"

Mrs Hudson arrived within the hour and immediately showered Sherlock with unwanted light hugs, kisses to his hair and face, and an outrageous amount of "oh Sherlock, what have you done to your self" and " my poor baby"

John couldn't help but smirk at the irritated look Sherlock had while she continued to flutter around him like a fly.

After a while of her being there and simply talking to him john noticed Sherlock was becoming tired and quite annoyed. He loved ms.Hudson dearly but this moment wasn't the best to hear stories about her and the late mr.hudson.

"Ms.Hudson? Why don't I walk you to the lobby and call you a cab?"

"Alright" she leaned over and kissed sherlocks curls once more "take care of yourself love"

Sherlock stayed silent for a moment but when ms.hudson turned away he reached out and gently took her hand and pulled her into a hug and whispered very lowly "i love you "

"I know dear, i love you too"

When she moved away sherlock looked overwhelmed and closed his eyes. John walked her out, " ah, maybe none of my business but Sherlock told you he loved you."

"Yes"

"He doesn't say that. To anyone not even his parents"

"He says it to you" John looked questioningly at her " I live downstairs I hear things. Sherlock is a sweet boy, John. You know that, he hasn't had an easy life and I'm sure you know that as well"

"How did you all meet? I mean no offense but why does he care about you so much?"

Ms Hudson smiled fondly, " sit down, it won't take long but my hip is killing me" they took a seat on a bench and waited for a cab to pass " I met Sherlock for the first time when he was in uni, when he was still with Victor. He showed up on my doorstep one night, scared, with cuts and bruises all over him. I had no idea who he was or why he was here but he was kind enough to make me trust him, he eventually opened up to me. I was the first person to know about the abuse and all he went through, I knew about the eating disorder, the cutting all of it. I told him he could live in 221b and I would help pay rent until he got a steady job, he claimed money wasn't the problem but I still wanted to help more. I suppose he just became fond of me because I didn't judge him, or treat him like he was broken. Sherlock is strong john, stronger than he lets on."

"He mentioned to me not to treat him like he was broken"

" it will only make him less likely to open up to you. I gotta head home. If you boys need anything call me"

"Thanks ms.Hudson, your a dear"

She smiled and walked out of the lobby and to a cab Mycroft had waiting.

Chapter Text

John walked sluggishly back to sherlocks hospital room. When he approached the door he could hear Sherlock arguing with a nurse and decided he should make himself present.

"Sherlock, everything alright?"

"Fine except this hospital is full of idots"

He sighed and gave and apologetic look to the nurse " when will he be able to go home"

"Tomorrow, if he stops messing with his IV and would corporate" she said scowling " If not we are stuck with him for anther day"

"I'm a doctor, I can care for him to an extent if that would help his release"

"Your a doctor?"

"Yes, John Watson, I work just a few blocks away and occasionally come here for specific patients."

"I thought I had seen you somewhere" she smiled and held out her hand " I'm Amy" John shook her hand and nodded.

" well I'm done for now. If you need anything John just ring. Oh and you too sherlock." She smiled flirtatiously and handed John a small slip of paper.

He looked down and laughed when he saw her number. Sherlock made a growl from his bed, " I want her killed"

"Sherlock you can't just have people killed"

"I could pull it off"

"Maybe so, but she is a nice lady and you should be respectful to her"

"She flirted with you and gave you her number! You're my boyfriend john, seeing how desirable you are to other people isnt exactly appealing to me!"

"You're jealous?"

"No"

John laughed " Sherlock Holmes is jealous" he moved to the left side of the bed and placed a hand on sherlocks head before kissing him deeply. " you're all mine, and I'm all yours. Believe me I don't even have the slightest of interest in her." As if to prove it John took the slip of paper and ripped it into 8 pieces and throwing it in the trash.

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The night went with ought a hitch. John slept pressed against sherlocks side on the small bed. Waking up next to Sherlock is something John could relive for the rest of his life and never grow tired of it. He admired the feint scent of sherlocks Cologne and a smell that could only be described as simply....Sherlock. He knew he couldn't go back to sleep so he gently moved sherlocks arm from around him and got dressed to head down to the cafeteria. He got 2 cups of coffee and took the lift back upstairs. Sherlock was awake and having his vitals tested by none other than Amy.

"Where's John"

" at the corner of your a stalker and he's not interested"

John couldn't help but laugh and that caught the eye of both Amy and Sherlock. "Sorry to interrupt, I brought you up some coffee love."

"Thank you John, that was swee-" Amy started but John gave the cup to Sherlock before kissing his forehead.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know you all were together. God I feel so stupid, sherlock I didn't know that he was taken and especially not by you. I would have never- if I knew that-"

"Apology accepted. Are you done?" Sherlock shot back, still rude but not quite as harsh."

"Yes, sorry again."

They looked at each other and smiled as John cradled sherlocks head just below his chest. "Thank you, for giving her the hint."

"Anytime. So you can come home now?"

Sherlock nodded " as soon as mycroft comes over to sign papers."

"Why does he need to sign papers? They never do that for a release when you already have someone to care for you?"

"Suicide watch, it's the only way mycroft could work out for them not to send me to a rehab center. So he Has to sign me out, and we also have will be having a fucking therapist visit us twice a week to 'help' me" by this time Sherlock was quickly growing angry. John took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. We can deal with this, I'll be here for you through all of it. It's going to be okay."

Sherlocks heart fluttered at the pet name, "I hate it John"

"Hate what love?" John brought Sherlock knuckles to his lips.

"Me.everythig about me. God John, I'm so sorry for all the shit I put you through. Not just the past month either I mean for everything, the 2 years I left you, the day I met you, god damnit I'm so fucking sorry." Sherlock was actually sobbing.

"Sherlock, yes you piss me off sometimes but I wouldn't trade meeting you for anything in the world."

The sobbing man said nothing.

"Come on love, mycroft will be here soon. We can talk at home."

"John, when we get home can we talk about something different when we get home."

"Whatever you want."

"Sex" Sherlock stuttered.

"What?"

" I would like to discuss sex when we get home."

"Ah, alright. That's um fine I suppose."

Mycroft arrived within the hour and signed the required papers.

"Your therapist will come on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You WILL speak with her Sherlock. If you want to stay with John you will behave." Mycroft spat with a fake smile.

"Don't use me to get him to do things." John took sherlocks hand as they walked out the automatic doors and to a car.

"Evening brother mine, doctor Watson."

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Upon arrive home sherlock headed to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Shower, I smell like hospital."

"You can't get the bandages wet. You can only take baths."

"Fuck baths."

"Want help?" John asked shyly not knowing how Sherlock would respond.

"I'll wait until closer to bed."

"Alright."

"What do you want for dinner?" John sat In his armchair across from Sherlock who plopped down on the couch.

"You're going to make me eat aren't you?"

"I most certainly am. Sherlock we need to try to get you healthier."

"Fine. My stomach has been upset because of that so called hospital coffee. Can we just cave popcorn and maybe fruit?"

John nodded and smiled, " wanna put on a film while we eat?"

"No, I would rather talk."

John tensed remembering what Sherlock said he wanted to talk about at the hospital. "About sex?"

"Yes"

"What exactly do you want to discuss about it?"

"You're uncomfortable."

"Yeah a bit, it's just- i thought you would never want it."

"I don't. Not particularly, but you want it and if it would please you I want to try."

"Sherlock I'm not going to let you make yourself uncomfortable and upset to please me."

"I'll tell you if I want to stop."

"No you won't, you will push yourself until you think I'm happy. I'll be nervous to, I mean Sherlock we shouldn't just decide to do it on a certain day, we should wait until we are both comfortable and in the mood for it."

" I promise I'll tell you."

"We will see about it okay?"

"Fine. I'm going to change."

"Alright you can take the bandage off, I'll have to re-wrap it anyway."

Sherlock nodded and left.

He striped infront of his mirror and tried not to look. He put on loose pants and his favorite blue dressing gown. When he removed the bandage he understood why all the fuss was made. The cuts were deep and some had to be stitched over. Their was some that would still bleed at friction and touch, but not enough to cause any damage. And god did they itch like hell. He knew he couldn't touch them though, and that he should see his doctor if anything was wrong.

"John!" He yelled and heard John run down the hall.

"What? Are you okay?!" He looked panicked.

"Fine except these things itch."

"Come on, I'll wrap it and give you something to help with the itching."

John took fresh gauze and ointment to apply to sherlocks arm. His eyes turned glassy when looking at them and Sherlock had to turn his head to keep from showing how ashamed he was.

"I love you." John spoke quietly.

"I love you too."

John wrapped his arm and stood to place a kiss to his lovers temple. "Let's fix dinner yeah ?"

They popped their popcorn and cut some fruit before sitting at the table and talking, normal things at first and then the topic arose.

"So sex..." Sherlock spoke.

"Right." John sighed feeling awkward. " besides wanting to please me, where are you wanting it to go? Or I guess a better question would be where and how do you want to start?"

"John, I hope to eventually have a average relationship with you. Dates, kissing, meeting each other's families, and sex. I realize my view on the topic was tainted but you and most of the population seem to enjoy it so I really do want to try. I suppose to answer your questions: I know this isn't exactly anything sexual but maybe it's something, I would like you to help me wash before bed."

"We can go as far as your comfortable with and yes I will help you."

0000000000000000000000000000

After dinner and cleaning up Sherlock and John went to the bath and warmed the water.

"How do you want to do this?" John asked.

" I would prefer if I Could wear my boxers."

"Alright, wanna share why?"

" I'm ashamed."

"Of what?"

"The thing."

"Your cock?"

Sherlock nodded not looking at John. "I've been told it's shameful and best to hide it."

"Sherlock, I saw it the day you hurt your head. Believe me it's nothing to be ashamed of. Every one of your skin cells is absolutely beautiful."

"I guess I won't then."

"Alright. Want me to turn around while you get into the tub?"

"Please."

John faced the wall and waited to hear the water splash as Sherlock into the water. "Good?"

"Yeah."

John sat at the edge of the tub and bent to kiss Sherlock, trying not to let his eyes wonder. They had brought a plastic cup to wet and rinse Sherlock hair with.

" do you have a certain way of washing your hair?"

"Shampoo, rinse, voluminous infusion and de-tangeler, rinse, conditioner, comb through, rinse."

"Of course you would have a long ass list."

"I take pride in my hair,John"

"I know. It always looks perfect."

Sherlock smiled and waited patiently while John went through his routine.

Sherlock washed his own body except his left arm and got out of the tub before quickly wrapping a towel around him.

"Kay"

They walked to his bed room and John and laid out a pair of boxers and sweat pants.

"You don't sleep with a shirt right?"

"No I don't. Thank you John."

"Alright, good night, sweetheart. I love you.im glad to have you back home." He pushed up to his tip toes and kissed him gently.

John turned around and Sherlock became confused, " where are you going?"

"To bed?"

"Oh"

"What?"

"I thought since you slept with me in the hospital that maybe you um- never mind sorry. Goodnight."

"Want me to stay?"

Sherlock nodded. And opened his arms to let John burry his head in his bare chest for a moment.

"I only sleep in my pants, is that alright?"

"Fine." Sherlock got into his bed and folded the covers over to allow John in. John pressed another quick kiss to his lips and said goodnight again.

Minutes passed

"John"

"Hmm"

"Would you mind if I moved closer?"

"Wanna cuddle?"

"I don't 'cuddle'"

John laughed lightly, "whatever you say love" he rolled over and put an arm over sherlocks torso and pulled him closer. Sherlock let out a content sigh and smiled against Johns neck. "This is nice"

"Yeah?"

"Mmmm"

Chapter Text

When John opened his eyes he was hoping to find his warm boyfriend next to him, but he didn't. He looked over unaware of the time but had speculations it was probably morning and he should get ready for work. The clock blinked 3:54, he sighed to himself and walked to the living room where Sherlock sat on the sofa, legs crossed and picking at the strings on his violin, he looked up when he heard John.

"Did I wake you?"

"Ah, no. Why aren't you in bed?"

"Couldn't sleep and was restless, didn't want to wake you. If I didn't wake you, why are you awake?"

"Bed was a bit less warm without you there. Mind if I sit with you."

Sherlock shook his head and placed the violin back in its casing. John leaned onto sherlocks shoulder and sighed. "Your arm not itching as much?"

"It's better than it was." He said.

The flat, without either of them speaking, was melancholy and quiet. Not a sound from ms.Hudson downstairs, not even the humming of the heater that normally always buzzed.

A series of moans and "oh god's" and "fuck yes" came from the wall. Johns mouth quirked into a smile and he chuckled lowly as did Sherlock, until a scream was heard and he flinched.

"Sherlock, he's alright." John looked up sadly, seeing as how the noise must have reminded the detective of his sexual experiences.

"I know John" he said breathily. Another sequence of cursing and a final "ah shoot it up me" before the sound of the bed moving quieted and John couldn't help but burst into giggles along with his lover. " I think he is much more than alright, John." This set off another round of laughter.

Ms.hudson emerged from the stairs. "Boys! It is past 4 AM and I am trying to sleep, could you please save whatever was so funny until morning!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, " are you kidding me?" Ms.Hudson looked confused, "mrs, Turners married ones are screaming sexual phrases at the top of their bloody lungs and you get onto us for having a laugh about it?"

"I most certainly will, Derek and Michael didn't wake me up. You two did! And Sherlock Holmes don't you even try to blame it on them or bring it up to them if you would like them to respect you when you and John make similar noises!"

"They won't have to worry about th-"

"Oh Sherlock," she cooed, " one day darling I promise they will have to worry about it."

John cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the topic of their future sex life or lack of one being discussed with their landlady. " ms.Hudson, I am terribly sorry we woke you, won't happen again. Good night." He stood and escorted her to the steps.

He and Sherlock shared a grin before taking up their previous positions on the couch, " well, Sherlock, I doubt I will be able to go back to sleep here, and I really should, seeing as I have work in the morning. Would you come back to bed or would that be excruciatingly boring?"

"Even dull things aren't quite as boring with you John."

"So yes?"

"Yes."

They walked back through the hall and laid down.

"Big or little? "John asked

"Big or little what, John? You can't just ask me to choose between two things in which I have no idea of the context your talking about. And besides those are both terms that have a wide range of-"

"Sherlock," John cut in sharply, "big or little spoon?"

"Well, I guess it would depend on what I'm eating, although I hardly understand how this is important John. We aren't eating."

The doctor chuckled fondly, " you've never heard the term spooning?"

"I suppose not."

"I suppose Victor never cuddled or held you close then." John said his name as if it was vial tasting.

"No, John he didn't, even before he became abusive we never 'cuddled' never held hands, never just sat and watched Telly, never complimented one another. It was nothing like you and I, which is good I suppose. Great even."

They both still stood on either side of the bed.

" did you ever want him to? Hold you, cuddle you?"

Sherlock nodded looking down, " he was the first person aside from a few members in my family who I actually loved and who I thought actually loved me. It hurt. It still hurts. Sometimes, well times before I was with you, I even thought about going back to him, and that just maybe he would want me. But that he would want it to be different, not like before, but i passed him one day and realized that I'm completely and utterly scared of him, John I saw him and my stomach dropped, I felt sick."

"Sherlock, words can't tell you how much I wish that never happened to you. Never ever think about going back to him, no matter what. Even if we are fighting or I'm dead or gone on a trip, whatever happens come to me, sit at my grave, have Mycroft fly you half way around the world at your doctors orders, just come to me. Believe me sherlock when I say it makes me sick to even talk about him."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment, "I won't let you die, so we have to cross the sitting at grave part out."

John laughed, glad Sherlock wasn't all that down.

"So what's spooning?"

The doctor smiled again, " cuddling position, where your both laying on your side and pressed to one another, the one on the outside is the considered the big spoon, the person on the inside, the little. So big or little?"

"Little."

They assumed respective positions and just enjoyed the feeling of warmth and love that surrounded them.

"I'm going to try and sleep, you should too,love."

"Okay, I won't leave. Promise." Sherlock said bringing up John's hand from the arm that was around him to kiss it.

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When John woke the second time it was indeed closer to time to work, he still had 20 minutes before having to get dressed and decided to continue laying with his sleeping boyfriend. He watched him, he looked so peaceful, so beautiful and elegant, In a simple word he looked perfect. In Johns eyes, he was. Sure nothing about his lovers life had been perfect in any sense, but things were perfect to him.

What wasn't perfect was the fact he had morning wood and was still pressed against Sherlock, which only made it worse. He tried to will it away but to no avail. He stayed wrapped around his lover and silently pleaded for him not to notice.

Moments passed and eventually Sherlock began to stir. He lazily rolled over and faced John, slowly opening his eyes before blinking a few times.

"How long have you been awake?"

John grinned at how beautiful,raspy and deep Sherlock's morning voice was, " not long, did I wake you?"

The detective shook his head before cradling himself into John's neck and inhaling deeply. He furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed something poking his hip, he soon realized what it was and was torn between being uncomfortable and wanting to giggle.

" if you want to shower before work you should probably go now. While you're in there you might want to take care of that." He said grinning against johns neck.

The man above him cleared his throat uncomfortably, " sorry, it's just-"

"Natural body reaction John, it's fine. No need to be embarrassed, and if your worried about it making me uncomfortable, it doesn't. Human anatomy doesn't bother me in the least bit."

"Right, thanks I guess. I'm going to shower" John said untangling himself from his lover, " if you need anything just yell for me, I should be out in a few minutes."

Sherlock just groaned but let John get up. When he left he couldn't help but notice how empty and cold the bed felt without him. When Sherlock was with John sleeping wasn't difficult or unpleasant, he enjoyed the closeness and how comfortable he felt being around John. Sherlock had never been a physical person, especially not after victor. He would shy away at the slightest brush against him of someone he didn't know. He would fear the person who was angry at him if they made a move that could end with him being touched, even if it wasn't violent. He even would be uncomfortable at times when ms.Hudson refused to stop holding his shoulders or placing a hand on his back while she spoke to him.

He sluggishly moved out of bed and past the bathroom, hearing the shower running. When he came the kitchen he debated making tea for him and John or not. He decided not, simply because he felt like being lazy today.

John came downstairs in a rust colored button down and his jacket laid over his arm.

" will you be okay here by yourself today? I have to fill in, otherwise I wouldn't go."

"I'll be fine."

"Really Sherlock, I need to know. I really hate that I have to leave you day after you come home from the hospital."

"John I'll be fine I promise."

"Promise me a few other things to yeah?" John looked at him while eating some yogurt Sherlock made a sound of agreement and John proceeded, " okay number one, don't do anything that would hurt you. Number 2 eat something this morning, doesn't have to be much, just something and keep it down. Number 3 if you need help doing something please ask ms.Hudson. Number 4 text me at lunch to let me know your alright."

" do you want me to promise to send Mycroft flowers too?" Sherlocks comment didn't come across with anger like it may have sounded, it was just sarcastic.

"It's 4 things sherlock, I know you can handle it. If you want to send Mycroft flowers I'm sure he would appreciate them. Okay I need to go" John dropped a kiss to sherlocks head and made his way down the steps, then left.

Chapter Text

The morning passed being rather uneventful, Sherlock spent most of his time catching up on recording the results of his bacteria garden.

Johns morning passed the same, kids with upset stomachs, runny noses, and older teens faking to stay out of school. He waited in anticipation for lunch, not only to get away from everyone but to check up on Sherlock to make sure he was okay. He felt awful about leaving him alone. Soon enough 1:30 hit and only minutes after his phone alerted him he had a text

I'm not dead-SH

Good, did you eat?- JW

yes- SH

What did you eat?- JW

I had toast and some fruit. Also some tea.- SH

Are you doing alright or should I come home early?- JW

I'm terribly bored, and would rather be with you, but you can't really come home for that reason, so I yes I'm fine.- SH

As he was about to respond a call came in over johns pager that his lunch had to end early. A little boy, 6 years old was having difficulty breathing. After a few listens to his lungs and hearing what was wrong John sent him over to the hospital. He had developed pneumonia and needed treatment.

"Doctor Watson?" His assistant Janice said coming through the door

He looked up but made no noise.

"Someone is here to see you."

"Send them in." He said with a long sigh. Today had seemed to last forever and his tiredness was catching up to him. The person walked into his office. John was looking down writing, " please have a seat." The person didn't have a seat though they walked over behind his desk and pecked his cheek, he looked up in shock before noticing the person was Sherlock.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you but why are you here?"

"I told you, I was bored and you can't leave work, so I came here. Although it's not as intresting as I thought It would be."

John laughed, " you can't stay when patients are in here."

"Why? They wouldn't know."

"Privacy reasons dear."

"Privacy is stupid."

"I get off in 2 hours, I suppose you can stay until then as long as you don't disturb anything or anyone "

"When do I ever do that?"Sherlock shot back sarcastically.

"Never love, never."

*****************************************

The time passes faster with Sherlock there to keep him company and soon enough 4 o'clock came.

"Wanna go eat and maybe pick up a film on the way home?"

Sherlock waved his hand in an ' it doesn't matter' motion.

"Okay, Angelos?"

"'s fine."

After seated at their normal table Angelo came out, " ah my boys! Sherlock I heard you were in the hospital! What happened? You alright now, no?"

" just got a little hurt, nothing to worry about."

"You should be more careful, London would collapse without you, so would a certain doctor I know." Angelo smiled fondly and Johns cheeks peaked red. "Alright, I'll leave you alone. Usual?"

They nodded and watched him disappear into the kitchen.

"He's right." John spoke abruptly

"You would be okay without me John. You did it before, sorry for that again."

"No, it would be different Sherlock, the loss of you would destroy me."

"Yours too John. "

********************************

They moved back into the living room and John helped Sherlock change his bandages. " they are looking better. Healing at least." John looked over sherlocks ivory arm that was scattered with long stripes varying in color. When John finished tying off the bandage he looked up and the side of his face was caught in Sherlock's hand as he pulled him in to kiss him. The Kiss was gentle at first but now it grew more passionate. Sherlock had moved John onto his back laying on the sofa and running his hand over Johns chest. Small moans came from the both of them at times. John pulled away with his hand gripping lightly a few buttons on sherlocks baby blue shirt. " may I?" Sherlock nodded and placed a kiss to johns nose. The man beneath him slipped each button away and saw sherlocks pale chest exposed as he did so. When he reached the last one he ran his hand over Sherlock rib cage and he shuddered. "Is this okay?" John asked leaning up, pressing a kiss to sherlocks shoulder. "Yes, John-I can't tell you how far I can go because I don't know."

"It's okay, really, don't worry about me pressing you to do anything, you will never have to worry about that with me, tell me to stop and I will."

Sherlock nodded and they continued, he pulled off johns jumper and pressed himself even closer to his lover. He felt John run his tongue over his bottom lip and he quickly opened his mouth letting John in and flicking his tongue over Johns. Things were getting heated quickly but Sherlock was yet to feel uncomfortable. He could feel johns erection through his trousers and pushed his hips to him, causing John to inhale quickly and moan into sherlocks mouth. While John was slowly growing more frustrated Sherlock seemed to have no physical reaction at all.

"Sherlock" John whispered but Sherlock didn't look up he just continued to kiss down Johns neck.

"Sherlock, stop." Sherlock did stop, immediately, " I'm sor-"

"No I was very much enjoying it but listen." There were sound of feet coming up the steps and before either of them could move Greg stood in their doorway.

"oh god!" He yelled looking away.

It was then John realized that Greg wasn't looking away because he didn't approve but because he and Sherlock were still naked from the hips up, hair tousled, lips swollen from kissing, and John raging hard. They ran to pull on their shirts and John cleared his throat, " sorry about that Greg."

"It's alright, I'm really happy for you all, I mean we all kinda suspected but you know how it is. I just didn't expect to see you all about to shag when I came in."

"No we weren't-" they both started but stopped when Greg held up his hand.

"Doesn't matter, none of my business but I came here because I need Sherlock to come look at a few things we found."

" okay just let me grab a few things." Sherlock said moving toward his room.

"No, I just need you in the morning, it's not all that important."

"Important enough to interrupt John and I wasn't it?"

"Suppose not, once again sorry I didn't know. I was in the area and thought I would tell you so I didn't have to come back."

"It's fine Greg, no worries. We'll be there in the morning."

"Sorry again."

When he left Sherlock seemed to go off like a grenade , " why would you tell him it's okay?! Now he will just come in here whenever he feels like it!"

John went to step closer but Sherlock stepped back, " Sherlock he didn't mean to, he didn't know? Why is this upsetting you so much?"

"BECAUSE JOHN I WAS FINALLY ABLE TO FEEL COMFORTABLE BEING THAT INTIMATE AND GRAHM RUINED IT ALL!"

"Once again he didn't mean to, come back and we can get back to where we were." He stretched his hand out to the taller man.

Sherlock reluctantly took his hand and sat back down on the sofa. John started kissing sherlocks neck, " no, I don't feel like kissing John. Not right now."

"Okay, what do you want then?"

"Just hold me, please?"

"Always."

John pulled Sherlock to his chest and cradled him in close, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Chapter Text

It was the next week and Sherlock is scheduled to meet with his therapist for the first time. Thankfully it fell on one of the days John didn't have to go into the office and he could stay with him.

Mark, a tall man with slicked back brunette hair came into their flat at 7 that morning. Sherlocks eyes widened, " Mycroft said my therapist was female."

"She moved away last week, Mr.Holmes I assure you that I am just as capable as helping you as she was."

" that's not the point."

" what is the point then?" Mark spoke in a cliché fake tone that only make Sherlock angry.

"Point is I was told I would have a female therapist and now there is a man with mild halitosis, 3 cats, an ex wife, and a current blonde girlfriend standing in the middle of my flat. Mycroft scheduled a female for a reason."

"Now he booked me, told me specifically not to let you talk me out of leaving, and to help you. Please sit down mr.Holmes."

Sherlock looked over at John and he tilted his head to signal for Sherlock to sit.

"Tea?" John offered to the both of them and they nodded.

"Okay mr.holmes why don't we start by you telling me about yourself, since you seem to already know about me."

"Thats a broad topic. What are you specifically wanting to know."

Mark sighed and ran his hand over his face, " please don't make this any harder on yourself."

"I'm not."

"Fine, what do you do for a living?"

"Consulting detective, next."

"Consulting detective? I've never-"

"Only one in the world, I made up the job."

John listened from the kitchen and smiled aimlessly down at the kettle remember how Sherlock said those exact words to him second time they had met.

"But you have an actual job?"

" yes"

"Any relatives you are close to besides your brother?"

Sherlock looked disgusted,"I am NOT close to my brother."

"Fine. Let's just get started."

"Why were you admitted to the hospital."

"Because I was injured."

"How?"

" blade."

The Therapist sighed and was growing irritated with sherlocks short and literal answers," what happened that night. the whole story. Actually never mind, I already know what happened, how old were you when you became self destructive."

" 18"

"And you're how old now?"

"32"

" you have been going on like this for the past 14 years and not gotten help?"

"Yep"

"You're an idiot."

John nearly dropped the tray and jerked his head up to look at Sherlock and then at Mark, " Excuse me, I thought your job is to help him, not to criticize him."

"My apologies."

" what happened that led you to cutting."

"I wish not to say."

" this information is private and I won't say I word but I need to know."

"No you don't NEED to know you just want to know."

"It's my job."

"I don't care."

"Mr.Holmes." He said frustration obvious in his voice.

"Thought about it a lot, even younger than that. No one liked me in school, not many people like me now, not much has changed. While in school people would call me freak, weirdo, tell me I was odd and didn't belong with them. I didn't care at first but eventually I did. I never actually did it but I thought about it. At 18 I was sexually assaulted and the week after is when I started."

" we're you in a relationship with the person who assaulted you?"

"Yes."

" did you stay with them."

"Yes."

" for how long?"

" another 3 years."

" why did you never tell anyone?"

" I didn't think they could help, and if he found out the punishment would have been horrible and probably would have killed me."

"You have an eating disorder as well, yes?"

" mildly"

"John, is it mild?"

" he does eat enough to stay alive and I've been trying to help him with it too, but I really wouldn't call it mild."

" thank you, how much do you weigh mr.Holmes?"

"Somewhere between 8 and 9 stone."

"Mr.holmes that isn't healthy. You are drastically underweight for someone your age and hight."

"Doctor Watson, what have you been doing to help him?"

"Ah, just being supportive and encouraging him to eat. Letting him know it's okay and it's the best thing for him."

"Are the two of you together."

Sherlock glanced up at John wondering if it was okay to tell him but thankfully John answered for him, "yes we are."

"Alright. Hour is up, I'll see you all Thursday."

Once he left John took up a place by Sherlock and absentmindedly played with sherlocks fingers, " you did good, darling."

" I feel like a 14 year old girl."

"Sherlock lots of grown adults have these sort of struggles too."

" doesn't make me feel any better, doesn't matter though. I'm going to take a bath." He kissed John quickly and walked away.

"Need any help?"

"No, I just want to be alone right now John."

"Okay, let me know if you need something."

He didn't get a response but he knew not to expect it. Sherlock was emotionally drained, you could tell by looking in his eyes. He hasn't been sleeping well even with John by his side. His eyes had dark circles under them and any ordinary person could tell he was fighting to keep them open most of the time. He got up and walked to the bathroom before knocking on the door.

"Love?" When he didn't get a response he jus kept speaking. " we still have to go help Greg, at 11, after you get out why don't we try and go back to sleep for an hour or so?"

"John will you come in here."

He opened the door knowing everything was okay but in the back of his mind he had a fear something could be wrong. " you alright?"
It was a painfully obvious question, seeing as Sherlock was just sitting in the bath.

"Yes. I don't want to sleep.after I get out I'm going to see Lestrade and walk around for a while."

" okay any particular place you want to go."

"Alone John. I'm going alone."

The doctors heart sunk, but he tried to keep the smile on his face." Alright. Erm, sorry I'll be in the living room."

Minutes later John was called into the office and notified Sherlock of it.

**********************************************

After he had finished up with Lestrade, Sherlock left NSY and walked aimlessly through the streets of London. He thought deeply about his life. What he liked about it and what he didn't like about it. He thought of ways to make him a better person and specifically a better boyfriend. He had come to terms that the relationship he once had was not healthy and not how he should compare his relationship with John to. His mind began to flood with thoughts of John leaving him because he couldn't be intimate and had problems. Without focusing on walking he didn't notice there was a person walking toward him. He ran into them and looked up to see a man he couldn't forget but never remember his name.

" Sherlock, wow, never thought I would run into you. How have you been?"

" fine."

The man leaned up to whisper in his ear, " hey i just got a new supply of heroine, a few of my buddies have tested it out and said its bloody amazing. You interested?"

Sherlock swallowed hard. While most people knew he had a problem with cocain, few knew he had also been addicted to heroine. Heroine was the best relationship he had ever had up until John. It was always there when he needed it, always knew how to comfort him, never hurt him, and never left him alone. Just talking about it made his skin burn with desire. He closed his eyes and took a moments to think before he answered. He had been clean for so long and was doing so well with at least that and John would be so upset if he started using again, even just once. But God how he craved to feel that needle in his skin and feel his mind start to relax.

"No. I don't use any more. Goodbye."

He spoke eloquently and walked away, knowing he needed to get back to 221b before his body turned him around. He needed to be home and he needed John, but John was at the office and he would not bother him. John deserves to have a break from him once in a while.

After retiring to the flat he took and shower and managed to calm his mind and nerves enough to function. His mind was still racing though and couldn't seem to stop. He reached in the fridge and grabbed a beer. He never drank but was desperate for some kind of release.

Chapter Text

John returned not long after Sherlock had come home and was greeted by what looked like a tipsy detective but was really just a very tired one.

" John" Sherlock said lazily leaning on the shorter man

" why are you drinking? You never drink."

" ran into my old dealer."

John ran his hand over his face " you didn't take anything from him or anyone else, right?"

Sherlock shook his head " no, I wanted to so bad but I came home." He started pressing small kisses to John's neck.

" good, I'm proud of you." John wrapped an arm around him and led him to the sofa.

Sherlock was mumbling something incoherently into John's shoulder while attempting to straddle him.

"John, we should have sex"

"No, absolutely not. Not when you are under any sort of substance."

" I'm not drunk John, I mean we should talk about it. That's what couples do right? Talk about things."

" oh, as long as we are just talking I suppose that's fine. Erm, I know your wanting to talk about sex but what about it?"

" John, I want to please you. I want to be able to give you everything your previous lovers have given you and so much more. One thing that they have given to you is sex, while I really struggle with the concept, I would love nothing more than to continue trying to become intimate with you."

" Sherlock, you know I would never ask you for anything you were not comfortable doing."

" yes John I know that. You say it every time I bring up the subject. Can we just talk about this without you treating me like a wounded animal."

John nodded " yes, I'm sorry."

" since I don't know hardly anything about how you enjoy intercourse, could you say suggestions and I will pick one to try."

" um alright. Well we established that you are comfortable enough to have some of your clothes off while we are kissing so that's already a big step. I suppose we could work on getting more clothes off and you still being okay. I could touch you or you could touch me through our clothes. Um -"

" we should try that. All of that tonight."

" only if your sure, Sherlock. I mean it, I don't want you to try and push yourself too much for my sake, because I am absolutely fine. I am happier than I have ever been all because of you." John spoke sincerely and leaned to kiss his boyfriend.

The kiss started off gentle but soon became passionate. John ran his tongue over sherlocks bottom lip and Sherlock let him in. Their tongues passed sweetly over one another. Sherlock started to unbutton John's shirt and john did the same to him. They were left in their boxers when John felt Sherlock tense up. He found the best way to help Sherlock when things got like this was a lot of praise and reassuring him everything was fine.

" hey, you okay?"John asked running his hand down Sherlocks arm. The taller man nodded but still seemed tense. John kept his hands in one place and went back to slowly kissing him, that seemed to help a little bit. " god Sherlock you are so beautiful." He said running a hand through the curls and his lover leaned into his touch. He moved back to kissing John and even wrapped his thumb in the elastic of John's boxers. He gave him a questioning look and John nodded in approval. Sherlock was feeling pretty confident at this moment and started kissing down John's body. Taking his time licking, sucking, and playing with John's nipples. John let out small grunts of pleasure and continued to praise him. Sherlock had now come to the point where he was on his knees kissing at the inside of John's thigh and over his hips.

" can I?" He asked

" Sherlock, answer me this first, and honestly."

" how much have you had to drink."

" I had one beer. You can go check if you need to."

" okay I believe you I just don't want to think you are doing this because you are drunk."

" I'm fine. I want to do this. Please?"

" only if you're absolutely sure and won't push yourself past your limit. Baby you have done so well tonight." He said squatting to kiss his boyfriend.

" I'm sure, please let me suck your beautiful cock."

Hearing Sherlock say that nearly drove him over the edge but he managed to hold off. Sherlock grasped John's prick firmly and slowly brought the head to his mouth. John moaned loudly at the feeling of a wet, hot mouth around him.

"Sherlock that feels so good" he gently placed his fingers in sherlocks hair, making an effort to show him he wasn't going to push his head down. John was getting so close when Sherlock tried to take him even further into his mouth. John felt his cock hit the back of sherlocks throat and Sherlock gagged and quickly pulled off coughing.

John completely forgot how close he had been and knelt down beside Sherlock.

" are you okay? I'm so sorry."

" I'm fine, why are you sorry? You didn't force your cock down my throat." His voice was raspy but he really did seem to be fine.

John kissed him quickly before murmuring praises. " you did so good baby" " I'm so proud of you"

Sherlocks cheeks flushed red at the pet names. He always adored when John called him by pet names but he never mentioned it out loud until now. " I love when you do that"

"Do what?"

" call me baby or love, it makes me feel....i don't know, special and wanted."

" you are special and wanted my love"

"So are you John."

They took a moment and just smiled at one another exchanging quick kisses.

" do you want me to finish you off?"

John had almost forgot about his erection. It had now gone flaccid and he wasn't bothered by it. " no beautiful, I'm fine. What about you? Do you want me to do anything for you?"

Sherlock gritted his teeth and debated on what to tell John. The truth is he hadn't got hard once during their entire session. He decided against telling him in case he was to take it as Sherlock didn't find him sexually appealing.
" no, I'm good." He said kissing him deeply. " can we go to bed"

John grinned," of course"

He and John lay there with each other just talking about different things wrapped in each others arms. John grew quiet and his breathing became deeper, he had fallen asleep. Sherlock smiled at the sleeping figure and cradled John's head close to his chest, dropping kisses on it every now and then.

Chapter Text

Sherlock never did fall asleep; he spent the night with the man he loved pressed to his chest and snoring ever so softly. Normally sherlocks mind was too active during the night hours to just lay on the couch or in bed, but when john was next to him it was different. His mind felt at peace, far from empty, but he didn’t feel the constant need to move around making deductions or work on one of his many experiments. Since John had fallen asleep Sherlock had been reflecting on events of the past few days-the case with Victor Trevor’s sister, running Into his old dealer, his ever intensifying feelings about john….it all felt like so much but somehow he didn’t feel overwhelmed, he felt like John was to thank for that. Little to sherlocks knowledge he had been immersed in his thoughts for several hours and the time was quickly approaching for John to get up for work. Sherlock selfishly wished he didn’t have to go but knew john would be upset if he was late. Sherlock brought his hand up to johns’ shoulder and rubbed it gently “John…you should wake up now if you want to get to work on time.” The smaller man shuffled a bit but remained asleep. Sherlock moved out from behind him causing johns eyes to flutter open. Sherlock straddled him, leaning to his level and trailing kisses down his neck and his chest, still bare from the activities of last night. John wrapped his arms around the detective “but if I get up that means I don’t get to enjoy my sexy boyfriend kissing all over me.” He teased and earned a little smile from Sherlock who nestled his face into Johns’ neck “then just stay here today…” he mumbled. John smiled and let out a small chuckle even though he could hear the faint trace of a plea in Sherlocks voice. He kissed the top of sherlocks head, “I wish I could.” They rested in silence for a moment before John really did need to get up.

John hurriedly dressed, brushed his teeth and combed his hair before putting on his shoes and kissing Sherlock goodbye.

Despite not sleeping, Sherlock wasn’t the least bit tired and was in fairly good spirits given all things considered. He spent the first few hours of the morning studying his latest samples in his bacteria garden and documenting the data into a spreadsheet to later publish on his website. He sipped on the tea Mrs. Hudson had brought up and even voluntarily ate a few of the biscuits she had sent up as well. As noon approached Sherlock anticipated a text from John as his break time was near.

“How’s your day going, my love? -“ JW

The corners of Sherlock lips quirked up at message and didn’t hesitate before responding
“It’s going well, not been up to much though. How is the office today?” -SH
Slammed. I actually have to go back to work in 10 minutes, just wanted to say hello- JW
See you when you get home- SH

There was nothing of great sustenance in their short conversation but for someone like Sherlock who had never encountered someone who cared enough about him just to check in during the middle of an ordinary day- it evoked feelings within him that he wasn’t sure how to respond to.

Sherlocks phone buzzed and there was a text from Lestrade asking him to come to the station to fill out some additional paperwork. Sherlock threw on his coat and scarf and made his way to New Scotland Yard. When he walked through the doors he was greeted by the familiar smell of coffee and printer ink. The first person to catch sight of him was none other than everyone’s *favorite* officer Sally Donovan. She greeted him by rolling her eyes “Oi, why did you run out on Emily Trevor’s case the other day? That’s a new level of rude even for you, freak. The boys sister has gone missing and you won’t even have the courtesy to give him a moment of your time to speculate where she may have gone off to?” she spat the words at him as if it was the most vile thing that had ever happened. “I’m not involved in that case anymore and regrettably I don’t know what happened to his sister. The great thing about being a consulting detective is that I don’t have to take any case I don’t want, and I DO NOT want that case-end of story.” Sherlock replied in a firm tone as he continued walking down the hall to Lestrade’s office.

“Afternoon Sherlock, how are you?” Greg asked as Sherlock sat down in his usual chair in the office.
“fine, what case is this for?”
“the Trevor case from a few days ago. I know you said you’re no longer interested in it but we really need the help. We’ve got absolutely no clue what has happened to this girl.”
“I won’t repeat myself again. I don’t want the case.”
“Sherlock, Christ! You wanted to two days ago and now you’ve decided it’s not good enough for your attention!” Lestrade was growing frustrated. “listen, I don’t want to do this to you, but I can force you to take this case.” Sherlocks eyes shot up, icy cold staring at the detective inspector. “you turning away from this case is different from others that you have rejected. Mainly because you entered the crime scene, you looked around, you know details of the investigation, and because of that you are involved now. Listen, if you don’t help us and cooperate, I have the power to take legal action against you and that is the last thing I want to do. So, please, for once just nod your head yes and do what we require of you. The sooner you solve it the sooner we can all move on.” Greg said with an exhausted sigh.

Sherlock was close to physically squirming due to how uncomfortable this conversation felt. He knew exactly why he had to now take this case and the consequences of not doing may be worse than going along with it. He took a deep breath, “fine, but I want to hear everything from you and the other detectives, I don’t want to waste my time going to the scene or talking with friends and family of the victim. And I do not want my name associated with this case.”

“ wh-what does it matter if your name is with the case, god knows you take most of the credit for cases like this anyway.” Lestrade said in a confused tone. He looked at Sherlock, really looked at him and for a moment it was as if he could see fear in his eyes.

“please.” Was all Sherlock said. It wasn’t something the inspector had ever heard him say with genuine emotion behind it, it shocked him but also caused a pit in his stomach to open up. Greg moved to close his office door and propped himself up against the desk directly in front of Sherlock.

“ do we need to talk about something?”
“no”
“Sherlock, I can’t make you any promises that your name won’t ,at some point, be mentioned in the context of this case. But if there is some underlying reason you don’t want this case other than you’re not interested I need to know.”
Sherlock said nothing and turned his head to the side and broke eye contact with Lestrade.
“I need to know, Sherlock,”
“ I’m just not interested, but if I must cooperate then it is what it is.” Sherlock lied and stood up, turning to walk out of the door but Lestrade was hot on his heels. “we still need to talk about your part in this case. The victims brother was the last to see her and I want you and i to sit down and interview him.”

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks and was surprised to feel tears prick the back of his eyes. “ that’s too mundane for me. You interview him and send me the transcript.”

“there is no time for that Sherlock, you of all people should know how important time is in the case of missing persons.”

Sherlock knew this. He knew how vital time was in a situation such as this. The very human side of Sherlock felt ashamed of himself. His relationship and feelings towards victor truly had nothing to do with his sister. His sister is most likely an innocent victim in all of this and Sherlock was punishing her and prolonging her suffering by not helping. He closed his eyes tightly and tried fight back tears. He remembered once what John had said about being soldiers and persevering with what was right even in the face of fear, “I’ll do it. Ill take the case. See you tomorrow.” Sherlock walked out not giving Greg the opportunity to say anything else.

As Sherlock sat in the cab on the way home he reflected on the how he remembered Emily Trevor and specifically one memory that has stayed with him all this time. Emily is significantly younger than Sherlock and victor, when Sherlock was 18 she was barely 8 years old. There were many nights Sherlock slept at victor’s house, but one particular evening victor came back from class and he and Sherlock got into an argument over something insignificant but as per usual victor blew up about it. During the scuffle of it all he had managed to get the box cutter blade Sherlock had been cutting with “you want to cut yourself up? Draw attention to yourself and try to make people feel bad for you? Are you that pathetic and desperate for attention that you still do this, aren’t you a little old for this now? It would be a lot easier for people to pity you if you didn’t hide what you do under those shirts. Well, let’s see how many people care when you’ve got cuts on full display, probably the same number of people who care when you hide them. None.” Victor took the blade and slid it across sherlocks cheekbone, and he felt the blood beginning to cascade down his face. He reached to wipe at the blood, but victor pinned his hands down and pressed the blade to his throat. “Do you want to die Sherlock?” he held the blade firm and Sherlock choked out a “no” victor dragged the blade along his throat and laughed, he had the dull side pressed and no physical damage was done. Victor got up and left, leaving Sherlock shaking in both fear and relief on the floor. Evening was setting in and the house was barely lit, Sherlock made his way to the kitchen and opened the freezer to get ice to apply to his face. He took a painkiller and sat on the couch and finally let himself cry. A Few tears had escaped his eyes when a small voice asked him “Sherlock, are you okay?” it was Emily- small, innocent, little Emily. Despite sherlocks normally rude demeanor he was actually very gentle with kids, but he’d never let anyone know that. “yes, I’m alright. Do you need anything?” he asked the little girl who climbed onto the couch next to him and looked deeply at him. “no, I’m good. You seem sad.” Her eyes expressed so much concern that it nearly caused Sherlock to let another tear fall. “I’m not sad, I’m-“he had taken the ice pack off his cut and bruise “ you’re bleeding” Emily said grabbing the cloth from sherlocks hand and pressing it to his wound. “you know, I want to be a doctor when I grow up.” Sherlock shook his head “I didn’t know that, I’m sure you’ll be a very good one, doctor Emily.” The little girl laughed and removed the cloth and smiled seeing that the bleeding had stopped, “there, no more blood. Now we have to watch a movie.” She said excitedly. Sherlock looked down at her, “why is that?” Emily thought for a minute “well, because sometimes people who are hurt on the outside are also hurting on the inside and doctors are supposed to help them feel better with that too.” Sherlock couldn’t help but smile at how profound what she said really was, especially for a young child. She picked her favorite funny movie and sat down next to Sherlock, cuddling in close to his side. They sat there quietly and for the first time in a long time, Sherlock felt at peace.

His memory was interrupted by the cab pulling up to 221b. He handed the cabbie some money and stood on the sidewalk for a few moments collecting his thoughts before heading inside. This case was no longer about him or his feelings. It was about the child Sherlock remembered, the one who saw through the walls he had built up, who wanted nothing more than to help people. And Sherlock knowing just how horrible people can be knew he had a responsibility to keep as many good ones in the world as he could.

Chapter Text

When Sherlock walked in the door of 221b he listened to hear if anyone besides him was home. No one was. In theory john should be returning in less than an hour and Sherlock was trying to decide how to spend this time. His typical self-destructive thoughts rose up in his mind as he walked up the stairs to their flat. He walked over to his desk beside the window and pulled open the top drawer- in it lied several boxes of nicotine patches and a half empty box of cigarettes he turned to only in desperate times or a celebratory occasion. It had been nearly nine months since he had smoked an actual cigarette and felt that a day like today definitely called for one…or two…or however many was left. He laid down on the couch, his upper back and neck supported by arm and a pillow. He took one of the cigarettes from the box and lit it before bringing it to his lips and taking in a long drag. He held the smoke in his lungs until he had to exhale and watched as the smoke left his mouth.

John returned home from his busy day at the clinic and was greeted by the smell of tobacco as he entered the door. He furrowed his eyebrows together in genuine confusion as Sherlock hadn’t smoked in months. He made his way up the stairs and his eyes immediately fell on his lover, rested on the couch with his eyes closed and taking drags from a cigarette as if his life depended on it. “Sherlock…” John said with a neutral tone of voice, conscious of not trying to come off as angry or frustrated. The detective opened his eyes and glanced at john but made no comment. “Sherlock, what are you doing?” john walked over towards the couch and saw the butts of five or so other cigarettes laying in an ashtray “ my god, have you smoked all day?” his tone began to rise. “no, just the past hour or so…” Sherlock said factually. “an hour. You’re on your 6th cigarette in an hour?” john was baffled, the man who had been over half a year without smoking and barely using the patches had inhaled the smoke of six of the cancer sticks in an hour. To put it bluntly john was enraged. He bent over and took the cigarette out of his lovers’ mouth. Sherlocks eyes shot open “give it back John.” “no, you’ve had enough. What is the problem?!” john was now struggling to control his tone. “ none of your concern, give me back the cigarette” Sherlock demanded. “ it absolutely is my concern! On many different levels, as your friend, your boyfriend and a doctor, you are not getting it back!” john crushed the lit end of the butt into the ash tray smothering the flame. Sherlock let out a frustrated groan and went into his room, slamming the door behind him. John took a deep breath and made himself and Sherlock a cup of tea before walking to the detectives room and knocking at the door.
“Sherlock…love, can I come in,” there was no response. Admittedly ever since the night john had found Sherlock after he’d cut himself, he chest grew tight every time he didn’t get a response from him. “Sherlock, I’m going to come in” he announced as he gently pushed the door open. His lover had changed out of his dress pants and button down and into his dark blue pajama pants and dressing gown. The detective lay on his side, slumped on the bed. John couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or just not acknowledging his presence. He sat the two cups of tea on sherlocks beside table before gently sitting down on the bed and placing a hand on his lovers’ shoulder. Sherlock jolted at the touch and johns heart broke a little more for the pain his friend had endured. “ I’m sorry” john said softly, “ I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sherlock rolled over and looked up at john in the dim light that crept through his curtains, “ s’ fine.” John looked at him a moment longer “ I made you some tea, would you like it?” Sherlock shook his head no and john laid down next to the taller man and placed his hand under sherlocks cheek, stroking his face gently. “Sherlock, are you alright? You seemed to be doing really well today and I come home and find you smoking like a freight train and upset.” John pressed a kiss to his forehead and Sherlock closed his eyes. Was he going to tell john? How would he react? Sherlock who could predict people’s actions weeks in advance always struggled to predict the actions of John Watsons heart and emotions. “John, I- I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He said internally snarling at how his voice trembled. John took note of how fragile of a state the usually stoic man seemed to be in, “Okay. That’s alright. In your own time then my love. But know that I am here to support you in whatever it is that you may need. May I stay with you for a bit or would you prefer me to leave?” Sherlock looked into johns’ eyes and nestled in head closer into johns’ hand, “stay… please.” John moved his body closer to sherlocks and embraced him. Sherlock wrapped his long limbs around the doctor’s body and let out a long sigh into johns’ neck. Sherlock willed himself not to cry, he had done far too much of that lately. John lay next to his boyfriend for what, in his mind, felt like hours but had really only been 25 or so minutes. Johns brain was wrecked with thoughts. So many questions he wanted to ask but knew it was best not to. He lifted his hand and ran it through sherlocks dark curls, he wrestled with the idea of trying a few things to distract Sherlock from whatever it was that was consuming him but worried that Sherlock wouldn’t respond well to it since he isn’t as emotionally aware as johns’ previous lovers. The shorter man decided on attempting to distract him- the worst Sherlock could do is say no right? With his hand already in sherlocks hair he tipped his head back and kissed him softly. Sherlock made no movements. John placed his hands on either side of sherlocks face and kissed him deeper, finally Sherlock started to reciprocate. John smiled into the kiss and wrapped a protective arm around his lover’s waist.

“John” Sherlock spoke into their kiss
The blogger broke it off but kept his nose brushing against sherlocks, “yes love?”
“Lestrade called me down to NSY today…” Sherlock left off and john scanned his eyes for any emotion he could find “he initially wanted me to fill in paperwork on the case from the other day.”
“Emily Trevor’s case? I thought you told him you didn’t want anything to do with it?” john was very alert to everything Sherlock was going to say about this topic.
“I did, I wanted not to be involved. When I got there Lestrade told me I had to be because I knew too much already. John I have two options and only two options. I either take this case and work with Lestrade to solve it, or I will no longer be allowed to be in contact with or contacted by any law enforcement for work, I won’t be allowed to take any cases even as a private or consulting detective and they can and will press a heaping amount of legal charges on me for being involved and then deciding to no longer work on the case. I cannot lose my life’s work john, I won’t be able to live if I have no crimes to solve.” Sherlock took a deep breath in and looked into johns’ eyes that were littered with traces of anxiety and fear. “I told Lestrade id take the case…”

John repeated the sentence to himself many times in his head, he closed his eyes and thought about what he wanted to say “ are you sure there isn’t any other way.” Sherlock was silent. John opened his eyes and looked at the detective who was avoiding his stare. “ oh my god, there is another way. What is it?” john said with almost too much hope. “ I would have to tell Lestrade everything” johns heart fell “ and because Lestrade is who I would have to tell I would also have to press charges. I can’t do that john. I’m not ready.” Johns heart broke for his friend “Sherlock, why haven’t you pressed charges? I mean all those years ago, or even more recently why haven’t you tried to get justice for yourself?” Sherlock shot a quick and borderline angry glare at john “Justice? It doesn’t matter if Victor was to spend the rest of his life in prison that brings absolutely no justice, no sense of comfort, or happiness, or security to me. What happened to me had been done john- there is no changing it, there is no so-called justice- I have been damaged and there is no reversing it. I didn’t report it years ago for the same reasons, but also because I was young and I was scared, maybe part of me still is scared. I won’t do it now because I refuse to have such a private matter that has reduced me to a pitiful, broken, and damaged man presented to the public. I will not have Lestrade feel sorry for me, I will not go to court and hear the private details of my life hashed out for the jury and spectators to hear. It's better off If I just take the case and deal with whatever comes of it. And most of all John, I owe it to Emily.” John stared at the man, deeply moved by the words he had just confided in him. “what do you mean you owe it to Emily?” Sherlock sighed “she is the victim in this situation, she is somewhere out there probably scared out of her mind and enduring who knows what. She was never unkind to me, quite the opposite actually. She cared for me many times in the aftermath of whatever had transpired that day. Granted she wasn’t very old, she couldn’t do much for me but she was what I needed then. I have no doubt that in many ways she saved my life during those few years. Now it’s time for me to save hers. She should not be punished for the actions of her brother.” John sighed deeply. “ I am here for you and I support your decision. We need to lay out some boundaries Sherlock.” The detective looked up at his boyfriend confused, “boundaries?” john nodded “yes, I don’t want you near victor unless you have to be, and I absolutely don’t want the two of you left alone. If you're scared or uncomfortable, you MUST tell me and my god Sherlock if he so much as lays a finger on you or alludes to anything about your past relationship with him, I will not take it lightly and I won’t spare him any harm.” Sherlock nodded “I understand john. I’m scared. I nervous. I feel sick to even think about being near him. I’ve not heard his voice in over 10 years and john when I think about the fact, I know I will have to hear it within the next 48 hours or sooner I feel like vomiting. But I can’t control what I have to do for this case and how NSY will require me to act. For once I am the one at the disadvantage and have no control.” John pulled the detective close and just held him there for as long as he would allow. “thank you” john said dropping a kiss to sherlocks head “for telling me- for trusting me with what you have and for letting me be a part of this. I’m going to take off work from now until this case is finished. I want to be here for you every step of the way.”

Sherlock looked deep into johns’ eyes before pulling him into a deep and passionate kiss. Sherlock didn’t know why he did that- he’s not usually one to initiate but he was overwhelmed with emotion for john and it felt like the right thing to do. John of course kissed back with as much enthusiasm as Sherlock did. He ran his hands up and down the detectives back and was taken by surprise when Sherlock, in one fluid motion, moved himself on top of john to straddle him as they kissed. John made a bold choice to gently nip at sherlocks bottom lip causing the other man to gasp quietly, giving john a perfect amount of time to lick into his lover’s mouth. Sherlock momentarily froze but soon picked back up, matching johns’ motions. John ran his hands over sherlocks chest that was barely covered by his dressing gown. As one of johns warm hands brushed over his nipples Sherlock unintentionally let out a sultry moan that surprised the both of them, “I’m uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“Sherlock stuttered “It’s fine. It’s all fine.” John smiled and began kissing him once more bringing his body even closer to his own. John was still wearing his button down from work, Sherlock began messing with the buttons as they kissed, and john certainly had no intention of stopping him. In a shocking turn of events Sherlock untied the string that was holding together his dressing gown and tossed it to the side after it slid off his shoulders. John couldn’t help but observe that Sherlock was still wearing the same bandage from this morning and that it really should be changed soon. But It could wait a few more minutes. Sherlock had reached the last button of john’s shirt and quickly undid it, exposing his broad toned chest. Sherlock looked lovingly at his partner and began kissing and nipping at his neck making his way down his body. Johns cock twitched as Sherlock moved further down his abdomen but tried to will it to go away, but Sherlock being the observational genius he is already noticed and gave a smug grin in johns direction. Sherlock had begun making his way back up the doctor’s body and teasingly messing with the buckle on johns belt when they heard Mrs. Hudson call up the stairs. Both men sighed and gave a small smile. Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered “cockblock” causing the both of them to giggle as they redressed.

They walked down the hall from sherlocks room to see Mrs. Hudson standing in the middle of their living room setting food down on the coffee table. “oh hello boys, I made extra dinner and just wanted to bring you some. Sherlock, love, what’s with all the cigarettes in the ash tray are you alright?” john halfway anticipated Sherlock to snap at her knowing the topic was very fresh on his mind but was pleasantly surprised when Sherlock nodded his head but kept his eyes to the floor. John looked at Mrs. Hudson who gave Sherlock a sad smile he would never see. She reached out and took his hands in hers and took a step closer “Remember, I’m just downstairs.” John could see that she gave his hands a small squeeze and johns mouth all but hit the floor when Sherlock squeezed hers back and looked her in the eye and said “I know” under his breath before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. John struggled to grasp the fact that the man he met a few years ago, the man who was so emotionally detached, who couldn’t read social cues, who still even to this day laughed at inappropriate moments and unintentionally said horribly insensitive things to people, was in fact slowly learning how to love again. And not just how to love, but how to show it.

Mrs. Hudson went back downstairs, and john turned to Sherlock, seemingly snapping him out of a small trance. “Sherlock, I need to change your bandages. Let’s do that now please before I forget.” Sherlock nodded and john prepared some gauze and antiseptic as Sherlock took a seat at their little kitchen table littered with beakers and pipets. John sat down with his materials and unwrapped the bandage from the previous evening. John looked at sherlocks arm with sad eyes, so much pain and suppressed emotion hidden beneath those cuts and piercingly white scars. “they are looking better everyday love; they really are healing nicely. you should be able to stop wearing the bandage at the end of next week probably.” John said affirmatively and Sherlock gave him a small smile, “ I’ve had a great doctor watching over me.” John leaned in and gave him a small kiss smiling as he pulled away.

Despite the emotionally draining aspect of the day for the both of them, they ended their evening laying on the sofa in domestic bliss.

Chapter Text

John awoke earlier than usual the next morning, grateful that he didn’t have to leave for work soon. He was in Sherlocks bed and his lover was still wrapped in his arms with his back pressed against him. John let out a very quiet and content sigh and inhaled deeply Sherlocks comforting scent, his nose scrunched when he realized the scent was now slightly tainted with the faint smell of cigarettes. John pressed himself tighter to Sherlock and tried to think of ways to be supportive but not suffocating over the next however many days or weeks this case persists. As a doctor, John had given advice to others who were dealing with loved ones with a complicated emotional life…but it all feels so different when its somebody you love.

As John lay there unable to fall back asleep, he admired how beautiful his boyfriend was. His skin was like soft porcelain and seemed to glow in the gentle light of the morning sun, his lips were perfectly shaped and couldn’t help but remember how incredible they looked the night that Sherlock had them wrapped around his cock. John felt his cock stir in his boxers and he tried to will himself to think of something different, his sexual frustration was the last thing Sherlock needed to concern himself with at this time…but the thoughts wouldn’t go away. He laid there with his erection growing slowly by the minute until he decided this was one morning he couldn’t ignore it. He decided to cut his losses and slowly moved from the bed to go shower and have a wank. In some ways he felt guilty for caving into his bodily desires, but he reminded himself that he was just a man and that he would rather take care of this now than to make Sherlock uncomfortable with it when he woke up.

Sherlocks eyes fluttered open and he immediately noticed that John was no longer in bed with him which made him frown momentarily. He groaned and rolled onto his back listening to the shower water run from down the hall. He laid in bed for a while taking in the peacefulness of the morning. The water had been running much longer than when John usually took showers… Sherlock gave a small smirk when he realized why John was taking his time. He sat up on the edge of the bed and slid on his house shoes before standing and tying his blue dressing gown around him. Even though last evenings conversation was filled with emotion, Sherlock felt in many ways, relieved, like he was no longer at battle with himself about how to continue with this case. He made his way to the bathroom and slipped in without John noticing. He let his robe fall from his shoulders, removed his shoes and stepped into the shower with John. They had never talked about this before, let alone actually done it but Sherlock highly doubted that John would mind. Just as he suspected, John was facing away from the water and stroking the length of his cock. Sherlock took a breath and reassured himself that everything was okay, and he was safe before he placed his hands on Johns’ shoulders and started kissing down his neck.

John jolted at the sudden and unexpected touch, “Jesus, Sherlock you scared me.” he said before tilting his head giving his flatmate more access to his neck. “ ‘m sorry” Sherlock mumbled between kisses. John turned around and kissed him deeply before noticing that his hard cock was now pressed between their bodies. “I’m sorry, Sherlock, I came in here to deal with this so that when you woke up you wouldn’t fee…” John rambled and Sherlock cut him off with a quick kiss. “it’s fine, I know. But… I’m fine and came in here to help you out with it” Sherlock said teasingly as he dropped to his knees, causing John to let out a near pornographic groan. Sherlock took the tip of John’s cock into his mouth, running his tongue over the slit and licking the glands. John ran his fingers through Sherlocks quickly dampening curls and felt the detective smile around his length. Whether or not Sherlock would admit it he loved when John played with his hair and the fact that he did it even during moments like this was an encouragement in itself to help Sherlock learn to enjoy physical intimacy again. Sherlock continued to take more and more of John into his mouth, expertly using his tongue and suction, causing John to make the most beautiful sounds. Sherlock was slowly running his hands up and down Johns’ thighs when he felt the older man begin to tense up, “Sherlock, I’m gonna cum soon.” Sherlock paid very little attention and continued bobbing his head on Johns’ cock. “Sh-Sherlock, if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth you need to stop… like now,” John warned but Sherlock just kept going. John tried to back away incase Sherlock just hadn’t heard him over the spray of the shower, but Sherlock kept a firm grip on Johns’ hips before placing his hands on John’s ass and pulling him towards him causing John to bottom out in Sherlocks mouth and throat. John couldn’t hold back any longer, “Oh my god, fuck, Sherlock yes, mmm” his body shook as he rode out his orgasm, shooting thick hot ropes of cum down Sherlocks throat. When he finished Sherlock released his hold on him and let him step away. John was panting and had propped himself up against the wall of the shower. He looked down at Sherlock still on his knees in front of him and John smiled lovingly at him, “that was incredible…” John said in what appeared to be disbelief that the event had just occurred. Sherlock smirked and moved forward just a little bit to make sure John was looking at him, he stuck his tongue out and revealed some of Johns cum, making sure John saw it before swallowing it and licking his lips. “Oh my god.” John moaned a new pit of arousal forming within him. He leaned down and helped Sherlock up before quickly pulling him in to a deep, passion filled kiss. “that was obscene” he growled as he bit Sherlocks bottom lip. The taller man couldn’t help but smile by how aroused John was and that all of it was because of him. John shut off the shower water and stepped out of the tub, picking Sherlock up bridal style causing him to let out a small squeak, before carrying him to his bedroom and throwing him on the bed. Sherlock laughed a little, and John crawled on top of him, both men still completely nude and soaking wet. John kissed Sherlock and mumbled something incoherent into his skin as he began to kiss down his lovers long slender body. John took extra time to circle Sherlocks nipples with his tongue and suck on them lightly. John had kissed and licked all the way down to Sherlocks V line before the detective started to tense up. “John…” Sherlock said quietly with the faint sound of warning in his voice. But John didn’t hear him and kept creeping lower and lower towards Sherlocks still flaccid cock. “John, please no.” Sherlock said a little louder as he slowly brought one of his knees up preventing John from being able to be close to him.

John looked up at the younger man in confusion, but his eyes quickly turned to concern when he saw the Sherlock was practically shaking. John quickly backed away and moved up to lay beside Sherlock, wrapping his arms around him. “hey, its okay. You’re alright. What’s wrong?” John said placing a small kiss on his slender shoulder. “I’m sorry. I-I asked you to stop but…” John looked up at him hurt “I am so sorry, my love. So sorry. I didn’t hear you say anything or else I would have stopped immediately.” Sherlock stopped quivering “you know that right? You know I would have stopped.” John said, concern deeply obvious in his voice. Sherlock nodded his head “I know. It’s okay, really I’m fine, it just scared me for a minute.” Sherlock reassured John kissing his head. John sighed, “ I just wanted to return the feeling you gave me.” Reciprocal love was still a fairly new and foreign concept to Sherlock, but he was quickly learning that in a normal relationship, at least a relationship with John, it wasn’t one sided. Both partners gave and both received, something Sherlock never knew with victor. “I know, and I want it, I do, but…I’m just not ready I guess.” Sherlock said embarrassed. John reassured him that everything was fine, and he pulled the blankets over their now dry bodies as they cuddled for a while.

“Sherlock?” John asked
“hmmm?” Sherlock hummed in reply
“you were incredible this morning. Really you were. You were so confident and sure of yourself, and god when you swallowed my- well you get the point. Anyway, you seemed okay with everything, but I couldn’t help but notice…” John was nervous to even bring this up but felt desperate for answers “ younevergothard” he said quickly but of course Sherlock caught it and quirked an eyebrow but let John finish his thought “ and whenever I brought you in here and tried to touch you…well… you started shutting down. Can we talk about that so I can understand?” Sherlock nodded his head and turned to lay on his side to be face to face with John.
“first, thank you. I’m glad I could help satisfy you this morning. No, you’re right John. I didn’t get an erection this morning, in fact I almost never do whenever we mess around.” Johns face fell a bit “and it’s not because I’m not enjoying myself or because I’m not sexually aroused by you because god knows I am, John. I mean I wouldn’t drop to my knees and swallow ejaculate for just anyone” John chuckled a little at Sherlocks medically correct terminology “but I just can’t seem to get an erection when we are being physical, not right now anyways. And you’re right again, I did become uncomfortable when the attention was directed towards me. I don’t have an explanation as to why that is. My best deduction is that most of what I fear about sex is because of the things that were done to me, I’m apprehensive and fearful when its ‘my turn’ to receive. I feel overwhelmed and, in some ways, very trapped when you’re trying to please me. Even sometimes when you’re on top of me, just kissing I get nervous.” Sherlock finished his thought avoiding direct eye contact with John. The doctor lifted Sherlocks chin and gave him a soft kiss, “thank you for telling me that. That actually makes a lot of sense, love. I’m sorry that I have made you feel trapped and overwhelmed at times. Sherlock as much as I love receiving blowjobs, kisses, and all the things you are confident enough to give me- I can’t help but want to return the pleasure back to you. I know how selfish a lot of men are in bed, but I love to give, I really do. It gives me a whole different type, but equally as powerful, pleasure as an orgasm does. And if you’ll let me…id really love to start helping you overcome your fear of being touched like this.” John said, placing another kiss on Sherlocks mouth. Sherlock looked deep into Johns’ eyes for a moment and smiled, “I think I’d really like that.”

Chapter Text

While their morning had been filled with pleasant conversation and lazy kisses, it was too good to last. Sherlock’s phone rang and his chest tightened when he saw Lestrade’s name appear. He set down his cup of tea, “morning” he said in a mildly annoyed tone. “good morning, I’ve got Emily Trevor’s brother down here at the yard filling out the waivers and other paperwork, come on down and we can start the interview.” Lestrade stated very casually. Sherlock’s stomach felt tight and his hands wanted to tremble, but he refused to let them. “I’ll be there in half an hour,” Sherlock said, hanging up the phone, not waiting for a reply from the detective inspector. John had listened from the kitchen where he was reading the paper, “Lestrade?” he asked with a half-smile. Sherlock nodded, “Victor is at his office, we are conducting the interview today.” The mood of the flat changed in an instant, the tension in the air was almost tangible. “Alright, let me get dressed.” John said calmly as he walked towards Sherlock, taking his hands in his own and admiring his long, slender fingers. “it will be okay. I’m here, I love you.” John said in the best reassuring voice he could muster. Sherlock only nodded before stepping back and making his way to his room.

Sherlock picked out a pair of his black dress pants and a dark turquoise button down and matched it with one of his typical black blazers. He felt sick. It wasn’t visible but it felt as if every nerve inside him was trembling in not only fear but…anticipation? Not the kind of anticipation where you are looking forward to the event but more anxious to get it over with. Most of all Sherlock was furious at himself for spending far too much time messing with his hair and making sure his clothes looked nice-all these years, all the feelings of hatred and disgust towards Victor and he was still classically conditioned to want to look good for him and seek his approval. The fact that he was still seeking this approval made him feel ashamed. He ran his fingers through his hair one last time and grabbed his iconic long coat.

It was a crisp, fall day in London and John was clad in dark jeans and an oatmeal colored jumper, looking warm and like a safe space for Sherlock to retreat. They didn’t talk in the cab on the way to New Scotland Yard, but John held Sherlock’s hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze from time to time.

When they arrived and got out of the cab Sherlock didn’t take John’s hand like he normally would. This pained John’s heart just a little but remembered that today was definitely not about him or his feelings. He could practically see Sherlock’s mind moving 1000 miles a minute and he knew that not one of those thoughts were about Emily. They entered the doors of NSY and walked down the hall towards Lestrade’s office. Sherlock stopped just out of view and turned to John who made quick work of moving to his lover’s side. “hey, hey, take some deep breaths. You are protected here, we will leave or take a break the second you want to get out, alright?” John tried to reassure him but Sherlock’s breathing was erratic and the taller man’s body began to sway back and forth, John knew he was about to have a panic attack and guided him towards a small cubby area with a few chairs and sat him down. “Sherlock. Sherlock, look at me.” His icy blue eyes met John’s and they took some steady breaths until Sherlock closed his eyes and was no longer trembling. “are you okay?” John asked and Sherlock nodded, “Let’s get this over with.” Sherlock stood up and John trailed very closely behind him.

Sherlock’s hands were sweating, something they hadn’t done since the night he told Victor he was leaving for good. He saw Lestrade sitting at his desk and the familiar figure with strawberry blonde hair that was crouched over filling out what looked to be a personal information packet. Lestrade took notice of his presence, “ah, glad you made it.” Lestrade announced and Victor turned around to see who was at the door. Immediately Sherlock began trying to deduce him- he obviously worked a day job, probably something political going by his suit and haircut, as well and the fading tan lines on his wrists. When Sherlock finally let his eyes meet Victor’s, he was surprised to see that Victor seemed to be searching to find where he knew him from. This, in many different ways, made Sherlock upset. All the pain and trauma that this man had inflicted on his life and he could barely recognize who Sherlock was. In a way, Sherlock wished it could stay like this, but he knew the second Lestrade introduced them it would all be over. After-all, how many people were named Sherlock Holmes? Sherlock internally answered his own question. One. there was only one Sherlock Holmes and it was him. Lestrade stood up from his chair and walked to stand closer to the two men. “Victor, this is Sherlock Holmes, the best detective in London and probably the world, he will be playing a substantial role in this case.” As soon as his name left Lestrade’s mouth Victor’s eyes lit up, his brows raised slightly, and the faintest trace of a smirk appeared on his lips. Victor stood from his chair and outstretched his hand to Sherlock. It took every fiber in his being not to flinch or step backwards toward John. “Hi, Victor Trevor. Nice to meet you, Sherlock.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes, ‘so this is how we are going to play the game’ he thought before shaking Victor’s hand, the first contact he had made with him in nearly ten years. Sherlock didn’t return the statement, only moved to the side and let John approach. “Sorry, Victor” Lestrade apologized, “I should have warned you, Sherlock’s not the best with conversation but the more you get to know him you, will learn to cherish the moments when he is actually quiet.” Lestrade laughed but no one else did. God bless blissfully unaware Lestrade. “oh, John you didn’t have to come we are just doing an interview and paperwork.” John directed his attention to the detective inspector, still trying to comprehend the scene that just played out before him, “uh, yeah, no that’s okay I have nothing better to do. I’ve got some time off work and thought this would be a good way to stay busy.” John lied. “Victor, this is Dr.John Watson, Sherlock’s-“ John interrupted “Colleague.” Lestrade shot him a quick confused look but dismissed it. “right, Dr.Watson this is Emily Trevor’s brother, Victor. He will be acting as one of our main witnesses throughout this investigation.” Victor reached out to shake John’s hand. John wanted so badly to smack it away and knock him out cold but he followed Sherlock’s lead and acted as if everything was fine. “I’m sorry about your sister.” John chose to say rather than ‘nice to meet you.’ At least he had some genuine sincerity behind his audible remark. Victor nodded and sat back down, finishing up the last few lines of information.

“ okay, Sherlock why don’t you come with me and we can get everything set up in the audio room. John wait with Victor and show him where it is when he is finished with that last packet.” Lestrade said as he made his way through the small office and motioned for Sherlock to follow him. Sherlock gave one last glance at John who gave him a reassuring nod before he disappeared out of sight. John felt anger begin to rise in his body, knowing he was left in the room alone with the despicable human who still tortures his boyfriend’s subconscious everyday. John closed his eyes and took some more deep breaths. “Are you alright Dr.Watson?” Victor said his eyes looking directly into his as he took a step towards him. John took a step back, “Fine, just a long night ya know.” John said trying to remain very casual. Victor let a small smirk play on his lips, “Oh, I know. Something about violin music at three in the morning can really make for an unpleasant night’s sleep.” John’s blood ran cold. Holy shit, he really just said that to him. “ah yes, I’d imagine so.” John played dumb and Victor let it slide…for now. John led Victor down the hall to the room set up with audio equipment, the Yard mostly used this room for interrogations but when the opportunity presented itself it was used for regular interviews so that the detectives could review the information later and check if stories matched up. It was set up very similar to a small recording studio with a room for the interviewer and subject on the inside with a divided glass wall and a room for audio management and observation on the outside. “Sherlock do you want to ask the questions or should I?” Lestrade asked. “You, I’ll ask any I feel are needed but I think it’s best for me to observe for now.” Sherlock replied and they nodded in agreement. Lestrade asked all the very basic questions that you do for a missing person’s case and truthfully Sherlock had very little to add. The interview was much less intimidating than he had played out in his head and he felt a small rush of relief take over him that he didn’t have to interact very much with Victor. “was anything found or left at the scene where you last saw her?” Sherlock asked as the interview came to a close. “No, not that anyone could find anyway.” Victor replied and Sherlock turned his attention to Greg, “Who was on forensics that day?” Sherlock inquired “Anderson” Lestrade replied, earning an eye-roll from Sherlock, “I want to do my own sweep of the area.” Lestrade nodded and suggested they get to the scene before sundown, as it was about a half hour away by car and time was of the essence. Lestrade stood up and headed out the door, John stood to wait for Sherlock who let Victor leave the room first, leaving the two alone. “ how are you?” John asked as soon as they were out of earshot. Sherlock shrugged and kept walking past John, he didn’t want to be an arsehole but he couldn’t let his guard down right now. He couldn’t keep up with switching back and forth between being emotionally vulnerable with John and then his normal stoic self in the next room over with Victor and Lestrade. The choice was an easy one to make and he could only hope that John understood. Sherlock felt tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally…he was exhausted, and the day was barely half over.

They arrived at the scene of the disappearance which was a partially secluded concrete area outside of Emily’s apartment building where she stood to let her dog wander in the grass. Sherlock did his usual sweep over the area and a little beyond in case something had been missed- and it usually had. He swabbed samples of dirt and debris left behind, picked up things like pebbles, and litter that could possibly give them any information, but unfortunately the scene was bare to the naked eye.

They drove to the lab at St. Bart’s hospital and Lestrade said his goodbyes to John and Sherlock and offered to take Victor back to his home. “Actually” Victor replied “I’d like to stay here in the lab to see what shows up on those slides. I want to be as involved in this case as I can.” Lestrade didn’t think twice before granting him permission to stay, causing John and Sherlock to internally groan.

Sherlock immediately began working when he got to the lab, keeping a data sheet of everything he was discovering on the samples. It was hard to focus with Victor to his right, staring directly at him and John to his left staring directly at Victor who was lucky that looks couldn’t kill. Molly entered the lab, thankfully breaking off the unspoken staring contest that was happening. “John, I’ve got a body downstairs that I’m working on and was wondering if you could please give me a second opinion.” Molly asked as sweetly as she did everything. “Ah, yeah I can on our way out, we shouldn’t be too long.” He said, trying to avoid leaving Sherlock’s side. “oh, um, well actually I need to finish this up pretty quickly, I’m a bit behind today on clients. Could you come now, it won’t take long.” Molly pleaded and John hesitated, “go.” Sherlock said firmly. John gave him a sharp glance and looked at Victor who seemed to not have taken his concentration off of Sherlock. John got up from the lab stool and walked slowly towards Molly, he turned back towards the two men at the counter, “Victor, how would you like to see a morgue?” John said with attempted enthusiasm, hoping Victor would be intrigued enough to follow him and Molly. Victor turned to look in his direction, “Oh no thanks, if I’m looking at a body I like for it to be at least partially alive.” He spoke in a near sinister tone that sent chills up John’s back and made Sherlock stop for a moment before Victor tried to laugh and play it off. “right.” John said and turned to walk away with Molly.

As soon as the two left the lab Victor got up from the stool. Sherlock was on high alert, every nerve in his body was more hyperaware than ever before and he was struggling to keep his breathing at a normal rate. Victor lazily dragged his hand across Sherlock’s shoulders, “So, Sherlock.” He said emphasizing the last syllable, “it’s been a long time.” Sherlock visibly shivered and directed his attention away from the microscope and willed himself to look directly at Victor’s face. “how have you been?” Victor asked teasingly “Seems to me you’ve been doing rather well. Definitely haven’t been going hungry…” he seethed, and Sherlock’s skin crawled with chills as his stomach churned, desperate to throw up then and there, Sherlock still didn’t reply. Victor brought his hand near Sherlock’s face and it happened, Sherlock couldn’t help but flinch and jerk away. Victor laughed softly and brought his hand back up and caressed one of Sherlock’s dark curls, “it’s been so long since I felt these between my fingers…I’d love to see if you still scream like you used to when I pulled them.” Victor seethed as he moved his face closer to Sherlock’s who pulled his head away and moved off the lab stool so quickly he almost fell. Victor continued smiling and Sherlock took a step back for every step Victor took towards him until Sherlock had stupidly backed himself into a wall. Sherlock cleared his throat, “get away from me.” He said calmly as he straightened his posture. “all these years and you still act like the same wounded puppy you did back then. I’m so disappointed in you, Sherlock.” Victor said inches from the detective’s face. He was almost as tall as Sherlock but not quite, he tilted upwards on his toes and licked the side of Sherlock’s neck who was trembling in paralyzed fear. Victor scoffed, “I’m finished here now, I look forward to seeing much more of you as this case continues. I have a feeling it will for quite some time.” He smiled over his shoulder as he walked out of the lab. Once he was gone Sherlock let himself sink into the corner, he brought his knees to his chest and deep heaving breaths took over his body.

Chapter Text

Sherlock let himself tremble in fear there in the corner of Bart’s hospital lab. The impending panic he had fought off all day was now free to consume him. There was no change in Victor, he was still the same vile human being he was all those years ago. He showed no remorse, no sympathy. If anything, he rubbed salt in Sherlock’s barely scabbed over wounds. First, he genuinely didn’t remember who Sherlock was, pretends to still not know him, plays that façade all day, and the first chance he had to see if the damage he inflicted was still present- he took it.

Sherlock placed his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths before standing up and walking back to the microscope. He was grateful John hadn’t walked in on him wallowing in self-pity.

Sherlock heard two sets of footsteps treading down the hall. He instantly recognized them as
Molly and John’s. He took a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Victor returning to antagonize him again.

John held the door for Molly as she walked into the lab, the two of them still discussing the state of the corpse they had examined. When John came into view, he did a quick glance around the room and furrowed his eyebrows at the lack of Victor’s presence. Molly left murmuring on about how busy she was and she would see them later, her eyes took a few extra moments to linger on Sherlock who, of course, didn’t respond.

“Where’s Victor?” John asked, making his way towards Sherlock and wrapping his arm around his thin waist. Sherlock flinched and a look of concern was plastered on John’s face, it had been weeks since Sherlock reacted to something as small as that.

“He went back home.” Sherlock stated plainly, allowing John to keep his arm around him. “I’m almost finished here.”

“Alright, no rush. Do you want to go home and order take out or go out to dinner?” John asked, leaning his head lightly on Sherlock’s upper arm.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not hungry. Your choice.” Sherlock was still focusing hard on the slide in front of him but Victor’s voice lingered in his mind ‘you haven’t been going hungry...’ it taunted him.

John looked up at him inquisitively, “Sherlock, I know today has been challenging and you have done incredibly well, but…” John stopped himself. He knew today had been unimaginably difficult on Sherlock, maybe now wasn’t the time to push him to eat.

Sherlock wrote down a few more comments on his spread sheet before packing up his things and walking with John out of the lab. John ordered takeout on the cab ride home, assuming they would arrive to 221b around the same time the delivery boy did. “Sherlock, are you alright?” John asked and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Sherlock nodded but it wasn’t good enough for John. “No. Really, I want to know how you are feeling. What happened when I left the room? I’m so sorry I had to leave, it felt like I didn’t have much of a choice without making it obvious I didn’t want the two of you left alone.” John continued rambling and Sherlock listened as best as he could in his dazed state. “why did the two of you pretend like you didn’t know one another? I mean I didn’t expect you all to start hashing out your history in Lestrade’s office but acting as if you’d never met the person you were in a so-called relationship for so many years, I mean- “

Sherlock let out a loud breath, “John. Please, be quiet.” He said in a less than friendly tone. “I feel fine.” He lied “nothing happened when you left. He stood there and stared at me like he did when you were there and then he said he should get home before it got too late. I’m not upset with you for leaving the lab, I told you to go. Don’t be so daft John, you know exactly why we are playing the ‘I’ve never met you before’ game. The more you lie the more you have to come up with details and fake stories and I don’t care to fabricate a cushioned backstory about how I know who he is.” Sherlock finished and finally looked at John who was staring almost blankly at him, only a small trace of hurt was present.

John inhaled sharply, “Right, okay. Well, forgive me for being so concerned.” The response was cold and as soon as it left John’s lips, he regretted it. “no. nope. Sherlock, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you-for you- and Victor said something to me when you went to the audio room with Lestrade that has replayed in my mind all day. I guess the stress of the situation has been getting to me too, but you should be the last person I take it out on.”

“it’s alright.” Sherlock reassured him and looked at him closely, “What did Victor say to you?”

John rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, “Ah, something happened and he asked if I was alright and I said yes, I just had a long night and then he made a comment about how violin music in middle of the night gets annoying or makes it hard to sleep. But it was obviously a cheap stab at you and I just played dumb.” John spoke quickly but Sherlock caught every word. Sherlock made a small ‘hmm’ noise but had nothing else to say.

When the cab arrived at 221b, John paid as usual while Sherlock unlocked the door. “I’m gonna pop in and check on Mrs. Hudson while I wait for our food. I ordered you some anyway.” John said, making his way to Mrs. Hudson’s door. Sherlock rolled his eyes and went up the stairs to their flat, breathing a sigh of relief to be in the comfort of his home.

He walked to his bedroom and began taking off his clothes from the day. As he unbuttoned his dark turquoise shirt, he noticed how his once very prominent ribs seemed to show less, that his abs had some definition to them-no longer deprived of protein. He stood and scrutinized the little bit of weight he had put on since his relationship with John began. I guess everyone is right, when you are in a relationship you get fat. Victor certainly seemed to notice. Sherlock sighed and removed his work pants, replacing them with grey sweats, leaving him top half still bare as he continues to stare into the mirror.

“God, look at you.” John said from the doorway, walking towards the taller man and wrapping his arms around his torso, “you’re bloody gorgeous.” John placed a kiss to Sherlock’s chest before looking up at him and pleading with his eyes for a real kiss. Sherlock bent down slightly and gave him a slow kiss. John ran one of his hands down Sherlock’s stomach and Sherlock’s muscles tightened beneath John’s fingers causing him to pause his movements, leaving his hand there to rest. They kissed a moment more and John let his other hand wander down the backside of Sherlock’s body. It was a bold move and John knew it, he’d never so much as attempted to touch Sherlock’s bottom but despite the events of today now felt like the time. John’s hand drifted slowly to give Sherlock an idea of where it was headed, giving him time to protest; but when he didn’t John’s strong hand rested on part of his ass and gave it a slight squeeze. Sherlock pulled away from the kiss and looked at John searching for answers in his face. John smiled, “you’ve got the most perfect arse. I have to confess I’ve stared at it at crime scenes as you’ve bent over, when we go up the stairs. Sherlock I am in love with everything about you.” John spoke, sincerity showing through his voice. Sherlock sighed in what felt like relief. Moments ago, he stood in this same spot picking himself apart, only to have to his lover take those thoughts away, even for a just a moment. “and I you, John.”

John smiled, “come on, the food is getting cold.” He took Sherlock’s hand and they sat down on the sofa turning on the tv. John ate his noodles, content to watch Doctor Who with Sherlock’s head in his lap. He smirked to himself and took one of the crab Rangoon’s out of their bag and offered it to Sherlock. “no.” the mop of curls replied, and John rolled his eyes, Sherlock loved those cheese filled wantons. He pulled the casing in half and took one of the crisp corners between his teeth and leaned over top of Sherlock, offering for him to take it out of his mouth. Sherlock glanced up and scoffed, “you’re ridiculous, John.” He said before ignoring the floating food above him. John stayed in that position, giving Sherlock time to change his mind and stretched up to take it from John’s mouth with his own and eating it. John smiled and considered that a small Victory.

John let Sherlock rest on him, running his hands softly through those dark curls. Sherlock hummed in contentment, he loved when John did this. He felt a sense of guilt for not telling John what really happened when he had left the lab, especially as the comment Victor made about pulling his hair ran through his mind. Sherlock momentarily wanted John to stop, an irrational voice in his head making him fearful that John may decide to jerk on his curls the way Victor once did, but this was John-his John. The one who only inflicted feelings of warmth, comfort, and security onto him.

John could tell Sherlock was thinking, but that he was also struggling to keep his eyes open; exhausted from the day. “come on, love. Let’s go to bed.” Sherlock made no attempt to move and John picked him up with a small laugh and carried him to his bedroom down the hall, placing him on the bed with a kiss. John went to Sherlock’s deep-toned mahogany dresser and opened the drawer he had filled with some of his things. He took off his clothes, tossing them to the corner of the room to be washed and put on a pair of boxers to sleep in. Sherlock was lying flat on his back, the same way John had left him. He crawled over his dark-haired lover, making sure to give him enough space to not feel trapped. John leaned in and kissed Sherlock deeply, slowly, and most important-lovingly. John had never felt a love like this. He doubted that anyone had felt a love as deeply as the one shared between he and Sherlock. His hands moved to undo the small bow that tied together Sherlock’s gown and he slid it off his shoulders. “gonna change your bandage and then we should sleep.” John stated. He cut away the dressing and observed the progress, one of the deeper cuts looked worse than it did yesterday, as if it had been broken back open.

“did you hit your arm on something today?” John asked

“no” Sherlock lied, knowing damn well he hurt it when he backed himself into the corner of the lab.

John looked puzzled but he didn’t press the topic any further. John finished up and took Sherlock’s robe, hanging on the back hook of the door. He laid down with the detective, bringing the blankets over them and laying an arm over Sherlock’s small frame.

Sherlock fell asleep safe in the arms of the man he loved, and that loved him.

Chapter Text

Sherlock awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Frightened from the images his subconscious had created of Victor touching his hair. When his eyes shot open and he realized he was safe in his bed with John, he calmed his breathing and gently turned onto his side so that he was facing his lover. John was fast asleep, seemingly at complete peace. Sherlock lay there and observed the rugged features of the man's face in the dim glow of the streetlights outside. He brought up his hand and traced John’s jawline softy as he took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of John’s aftershave. John’s eyes began to flutter open softly.

John’s eyes opened and a small smile played on his lips as he saw Sherlock facing him, cradling his face in one of his delicate hands. “hi” he whispered, turning his head to kiss Sherlocks palm. “Is it time to get up?” he asked confused. Sherlock shook his head, “No, it’s only half past two. I just couldn’t sleep; I didn’t mean to wake you.” Sherlock replied, matching John’s’ tone of voice. “That’s alright I don’t mind. Do you need to talk about anything, or could you just not sleep?” John inquired; sincerity evident in his voice. Sherlock tensed slightly, “just couldn’t sleep.” John moved to lay flat on his back and adjusted the blankets a bit before he moved one of his arms away from his body, “come here” John said, a silent invitation for Sherlock to lay his head on the doctor’s chest and cuddle. Sherlock happily placed his head on John’s pectoral and draped an arm over his torso, sighing in total contentment.

As they lay there in the quiet silence Sherlock began to have many emotions running through him, a feeling he has not yet adjusted to since entering into a relationship with John. He opened his eyes and began gently rubbing his hand up and down a small part of John’s torso, “John.” He said plainly. John replied with a small “hmm” noise and Sherlock took a deep breath, “you know I am not one to frequently have outburst of sentiment, in fact I’ve spent most of my life thinking it is a chemical defect that often leads to peoples downfall, but I feel like I need to say this or it will keep nagging at me.” Sherlock had John’s full attention, “John i…I really want to thank you for um well for being so understanding these past few months, well always, but especially since we have entered into this relationship together. I know that I am cold, distant, in many ways emotionally stifled, I am flawed in so many ways and I often feel redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. I know that I am probably one of the most unpleasant and difficult people to have a romantic relationship with, but you never fail to support me. John, you amaze me every day in the ways that you love me and no matter where our relationship may lead or where it may end, I will spend every day trying to show my gratitude.”

John blinked quickly as tears pricked the back of his eyes and threatened to fall. Moments like these were so few and far between. He really couldn’t remember the last time Sherlock had been this expressive to him. He still hadn’t said anything, unknowing how to follow up something as moving as that. He leaned his head forward and kissed the top of Sherlocks head, “Sherlock, I-I don’t know what to say, other than thank you I guess, I’m very moved. I love you, problems and all. God knows I have plenty of my own.” John chuckled and Sherlock smiled against the bare skin of John’s chest.

As if the past 24 hours hadn’t put Sherlock through the emotional ringer enough, he felt a pit of arousal open up low in his stomach. He tried to push it to the back of his mind like he normally did, but much like his moment of sentiment, it persisted. Sherlock sat up before throwing a leg over John, taking the blogger by surprise as Sherlock bent down and began kissing along the side of his neck. John laughed softly, “what are you doing?” Sherlock didn’t reply only continued to kiss lower and lower on John’s’ body until he found himself palming John’s growing erection through his boxers. “John, can I give you a blowjob?” Sherlock looked looking up at John in a way that can only be described as sinful. John took a sharp breath, “ah, Sherlock I mean, I’d love one and my god is it hard to turn you down while you’re looking at me like that but it’s almost 3 in the morning and you should get some sleep.” Sherlock hesitated not knowing how to express what was happening to John, “I need it.” John raised an eyebrow, “You need to blow me?” John asked and Sherlock shook his head, “no, yes, I don’t know, I need something John, I’m um….aroused.”

John’s eyes widened and for the second time tonight Sherlock had left him at a loss for words. He pulled Sherlock up to kiss him deeply and began to grind their hips together. “What do you want?” John asked breaking the kiss. “ I don’t know, i-I’m not sure, I’ve never-“ Sherlock began getting nervous and John interrupted him with a kiss hoping to distract him. “What is something you’ve thought about, something that that doesn’t instantly make you uncomfortable when you think about it?” John’s plan was to try something with Sherlock that victor never had, something to create a new and pleasurable memory of intimacy in Sherlocks mind.

Sherlock took several moments to think, the truth was he didn’t know what he wanted, and John could see the struggle behind his eyes. John placed his hand behind Sherlocks neck and brought him closer for a loving kiss. “do you trust me?” John asked, looking into Sherlocks striking blue eyes. Sherlock nodded his head and John smiled as he gently switched their positions so that Sherlock was laying on his back and John was on top of him. “Are you okay like this? I can move off of you whenever you want, just let me know okay?” John said running his fingers through the pale man’s hair. John began kissing down Sherlocks neck, it was rare the detective let him do this. He tugged lightly at the porcelain skin with his teeth before he licked and gently sucked over the spots he had bitten. Sherlock let out a sensual groan and John smiled against his neck. He continued to kiss down the detective’s long torso until he reached the elastic of Sherlocks grey sweatpants. He ran his fingers along the waist band and felt Sherlocks muscles contract, John looked up at him seeking approval, “I’m alright. Please…don’t stop” Sherlock reassured him. Hearing Sherlock short of breath from arousal was enough to make John’s erection strain harder against his boxers and he soon found himself pressing his hips to Sherlocks leg for relief.

John glanced up at Sherlock one last time before pulling the sweatpants down and throwing them off the bed. He kissed and sucked at Sherlocks hips, making a mental note of how visible they still were. He continues to lick and kiss languidly up the tall man’s pale body until he reached his nipples. He ran his fingers over them before taking one into his mouth and circling it with his tongue. Sherlock moaned and his back arched off of the bed, causing John to smile as he switched to the other pink bud. Sherlock placed a gentle hand on John’s head as he continued to send pleasure unlike any other through the detectives body, “John, don’t stop.” He panted. John kissed his way back up to Sherlocks neck as he glided one of his hands up Sherlocks thigh able to feel the scars beneath his fingertips that had faded to thin white lines. He rested his hand on the inner most part giving Sherlock the chance to say no, but he never did. John kissed Sherlocks mouth, their tongues fighting for dominance and he wrapped his hand around Sherlocks cock. The detective inhaled sharply and moaned into John’s mouth. John began to stroke Sherlocks cock at a steady pace as he continued marking Sherlocks neck and chest.

This was the first-time John had been granted permission to touch Sherlock here. Much like the man it belonged to, his cock was long, and pale save for the rosy pink tip that was dripping with pre-cum. “John” Sherlock said breathily. “John, I’m-I’m close” he panted, and John looked to him, a soft smile on his lips “Cum for me beautiful.” John encouraged him as he stroked him faster, turning his wrist on the upstroke. Soon Sherlocks muscles tensed, and he held his breath. He exhaled and repeated John’s name as milky white shots of cum coated his and John’s stomachs. John fell onto his back next to his lover.

They were both sweating and out of breath, both engulfed in a different type of euphoria. It reminded John of when they had first met and chased the cab throughout London before outrunning the police and were left happily out of breath and laughing against the downstairs of 221b. Sherlock was on a high from his orgasm and John was high on the feeling of giving it to his lover.

John got up after a few minutes of basking in the afterglow and grabbed a flannel from the laundry basket in the corner, first cleaning himself and then leaning over to clean Sherlock who was seemingly still trying to process what had happened. John wiped Sherlocks stomach and kissed him gently, throwing the towel back into the laundry basket. John lay back down and was the first to break the silence, “you were incredible, baby.” John kissed the shoulder closest to him, “I’m so lucky” he kissed him again “are you okay, my love?” John asked, turning onto his side and laying an arm across Sherlocks body. Sherlock audible swallowed, “yeah, I’m good. Really good.” Sherlock paused and John chuckled, hugging Sherlock closer to him. “does it always feel like that?” Sherlock asked and John looked up at him, “what? An orgasm? Yeah, it's pretty incredible every time.” He replied and Sherlock nodded his head slightly. They lay there comfortably in one another arms until Sherlock broke the silence, “ I get it now.” He stated and John quirked an eyebrow at him. “I get why people have sex. Why they obsess over it. Why they pay for it, lie for it, cheat for it. It’s like its own brand of heroine.” The comment took John by surprise, but he hummed in response, “yeah, that’s one way to think about it…so you enjoyed yourself then?” John asked and Sherlock half laughed “Yes, John, I thought that was fairly obvious.” John playfully swatted at him before bringing the blankets back up to cover their naked bodies as they fell back asleep in one another’s embrace.

Chapter Text

Sherlock’s alarm went off around 7:30 and he groaned as he reached for his phone on the bedside table to quickly quiet the obnoxious sound. He sighed and looked at John who seemingly hadn’t moved since they fell asleep last night. Sherlock turned onto his side to face John, softly caressing the doctor’s jawline. Sherlock smiled shyly and blushed as he remembered he and John were both still nude from the events of a few hours ago. John’s eyes fluttered open and he made a soft moan as he stretched. “Good morning, beautiful.” John’s voice was raspy and incredibly sexy first thing in the morning, and if Sherlock hadn’t been blushing before-he certainly was now. He mumbled a good morning back to his blogger, “I’m going to get dressed and work on this case.” John nodded but made no attempt to get up. Sherlock stood next to the bed and quickly wrapped his burgundy dressing gown around his thin frame and walked a few steps down the hall to their bathroom.

The detective turned the water on and let it warm up as he began brushing his teeth. He went to spit out his toothpaste when something caught his eye in the mirror just above the sink, he had two dark reddish-purple bruises. One was placed near his collarbone and the other lay just below his defined jawline. He rubbed his fingers over them in confusion before realizing they were from John biting and sucking at his neck last night. Most other people would be displeased and try to think of how to cover them, but Sherlock wasn’t most people. He admired how they looked in contrast to his pale skin and smiled thinking of how they brought back pleasant memories of last night. Covering them didn’t even cross his mind. He finished brushing his teeth and his shower before dressing in his black pants and white button down. The pristine white shirt did no favors in helping hide the hickies on the left side of his neck.

John officially decided to get out of bed around 9 and made his way to the kitchen to put on the kettle after redressing. Sherlock was hunched over his microscope and it was obvious by the new pictures tacked to their wall that he had been hard at work this morning. John fixed them both tea and some toast with jam. He set it beside Sherlock and cracked a smile as the detective immediately picked up a piece to eat. John wrapped a loving arm around him, “making some progress?” he asked, and Sherlock nodded as he backed away from the microscope. “yes,” he replied, “Its actually very interesting, one of the samples I picked up from Emily’s apartment and the sidewalk outside seem to have traces of a odd type of sediment but I haven’t quite placed it yet-there is also guano on those same slides.” Sherlock said in a perplexed tone. “Guano?” John asked, and Sherlock looked up at him, “Oh, bat droppings.” He replied and John just nodded.

John took up residency in his chair and did some work from his laptop as Sherlock continued to pace between the wall of pictures and post it notes and his desk. John’s phone buzzed and before he could check who the text was from Sherlock dropped his head back and groaned, “Mycroft is here.” John glanced at his phone and sure enough the text was from Sherlock’s brother, requesting to be let in. John made his way downstairs to let the older Holmes in. “Doctor Watson, always a pleasure.” Mycroft said as he began climbing the steps, John following behind him.

Sherlock had taken a seat on the sofa and Mycroft stood in front of him, leaning slightly on his umbrella. “Mycroft, can I get you anything?” John offered. “No, thank you. I won’t be staying long. Sherlock?” he said directing his attention back towards the sofa “I wanted to talk with you about a private matter….” Mycroft’s words trailed off. Sherlock’s rolled his eyes, “yes, I’ve gathered that. John can stay.” Sherlock said assertively, answering the unasked question. Mycroft sighed and John smiled sitting back in his chair. “I was made aware this morning that you are working on a case involving the Trevor family. And not only that, but that you are in direct correspondence with Victor. What the HELL are you thinking?!” Mycroft was seething. John had never seen him show such raw emotion. Sherlock flinched for a split second as Mycroft’s voice continued to rise. “it’s a case. I got involved before I knew the details. Besides, it’s not about him. I’m not doing this for him. I can’t back out now” Sherlock said his eyes burning into Mycroft’s. “oh, you can back out and you will. I will not allow this to continue. I have been trying to protect and provide you with resources since before you left him. Have you forgotten…!” Mycroft was practically shouting towards the end before Sherlock interrupted him standing up quickly from the sofa, “Of course I haven’t forgotten!” Sherlock screamed back at him, “but if you were listening, I’m not doing this for him, it’s for his sister! Why should she be punished for who he is!” Mycroft shook his head in disappointment, “Oh, Sherlock. Your sentiment disgusts me. I’m pulling you from the case.” “No, you’re not. I can do it with or without you but your knowing of the case would help ensure my protection.” Sherlock said with a convincing tone in his voice.

Mycroft closed his eyes and sighed in defeat, knowing Sherlock was right. Things could be much better for Sherlock if Mycroft had people checking in on him rather than his brother trying to evade his search team to work on this case. Mycroft opened his eyes and look Sherlock up and down. He had put on a bit of weight and no longer looked as if he was on the brink of death. His sleeves had been cuffed and he saw no new evidence of new cuts or recent scars other than what the small bandage was still covering. Mycroft was internally pleased with how his little brother was finally starting to win in the battle he had been fighting for so long. Just as Mycroft was about to admit defeat his eyes landed on the bruises on Sherlock’s neck and collar bone. “What are these? Did Victor do this to you? Sherlock I swear to go-“again Sherlock cut him off “It wasn’t Victor, it was John.” Mycroft’s face grew red and he turned to face John who had been tuning in and out of the conversation. In one quick move Mycroft was leaning over John, his umbrella pressed firmly to his throat, John’s’ eyes went wide with surprise . “How could you!?” Mycroft all but spat in John’s face, Sherlock screamed his name and was pulling at his shoulders trying to get him off of his lover. John’s breathing was being restricted, “What are you talking about I’ve not done anything to him.” John began struggling under Mycroft’s hold. His adrenaline and lifetime of unfortunate military reflexes had finally kicked in and he threw Mycroft to the floor of their flat. John cleared his throat and Sherlock switched his attention to him, placing a hand onto one of his arms to prevent him from hurting Mycroft further.

“I don’t know what the hell you are talking about, Mycroft, but this is out of line even for you!” John wasn’t yelling but was incredibly assertive as he hovered over the older Holmes brother. “You better start explaining.” John hissed. “The bruises” Mycroft stammered for the first time that John had ever heard. John looked at Sherlock confused but his eyes soon lit up with the realization of what Mycroft was referring to. “For Christ’s sake Mycroft-“Sherlock began at the same time John said “those aren’t bruised they're love bites, HICKIES!” John emphasized to him. Mycroft’s face flushed red, of course how could be so stupid. Ah of course, sentiment. Sentiment for his little brother created false deductions. In Mycroft’s defense he had a long-standing assumption that after Victor, Sherlock would never let John or anyone else close enough to him to have this situation occur- but as always, the capabilities of his little brother surprised him. Sherlock had been rambling on to John about how ‘hickies’ are indeed bruises, but John wasn’t paying him too much attention, figuring that was a conversation for a different time. For now John was in shock by practically having thrown the British government to the floor.

John extended an outstretched hand to Mycroft offering to help him off the floor, a gesture Mycroft quickly accepted. “Mycroft, I’m sorry I push- “ John started. Mycroft held up a hand to stop him and interjected “No, Dr. Watson, I am the one who is sorry. I should have known better that you wouldn’t have caused any harm to my brother. I am deeply ashamed of how I reacted.” Sherlock made a snide comment about ‘over-reacting’ and John nodded his head in understanding “it’s alright, you were worried.” Mycroft neither confirmed or denied John’s statement but rather brushed off his clothes and spoke to Sherlock, “I won’t force you off this case for the time being…but if it gets to be too much, and I know if it does, I will have you removed Emily Trevor be damned.” And with that Mycroft made his way down the stairs back to the street. John and Sherlock shared a knowing look of ‘wtf’. Just as John was about to ask Sherlock a question his phone buzzed.

“Come outside.” MH

John rolled his eyes and dismissed himself. He stepped outside where Mycroft was waiting by his car. “Yes?” John asked.

“Doctor Watson, I again want to apologize for my reaction. It was irrational and wrong.” Mycroft started, “how is he?”

“um, thanks for the apology but it was a misunderstanding. Given Sherlock’s background, I would have reacted the same- in fact I nearly did when I first met Victor at New Scotland Yard. Well, Sherlock is…Sherlock. I don’t think he’s cut himself since we’ve been back home, he’s still meeting with and making bare minimum conversation with the therapist you sent over, and um well as you saw he’s a lot more at ease with letting people- well- me at least, be close to him.” John was rubbing the back of his neck, trying to ignore the fact he was telling Mycroft about their intimacy.

Mycroft nodded, “you’ve been good for him. What about his eating? I can see he’s filling back out again. He looks better, much less…skeletal.”

John’s mouth quirked into a smile, “ it’s a bit complicated, but I suppose eating disorders and recovery is. I can get him to eat most days, never anything much but he is making progress. I have noticed though… when he’s overwhelmed with emotion or when he’s upset, his first defense mechanism is to refuse food. He fights me about it much more than usual during those times. I’ve been letting it slide during those moments, but I fear with this case just beginning it will be an uphill battle to keep him fed.”

‘John, you will let me know if something begins to go terribly wrong, wont you?” Mycroft asked, the sentiment he hated so much reappearing in his tone.

“I’ll do what I can.” John assured with a nod and went back inside. When he was back upstairs, he went back to Sherlock who was watching Mycroft’s car drive off. John stood at Sherlock’s left side and looked at the love bites. Sherlock looked at the shorter man and they broke into a short fit of laughter. “you should cover those when we leave the flat, I’m sorry, I’ll be more cautious of where I put them next time.” John spoke, running his ringers across them. Sherlock’s smile dropped, “I don’t want to cover them.” John looked confused “why? Sherlock, you know the team at Scotland yard will tease you I about it. Maybe more you than me.” Sherlock nodded, “they do that anyway, they’ve assumed we’ve been shagging for years, why not give them what they want.” John laughed softly, “ I guess I don’t particularly care if you don’t. but we have a new set of eyes on us now. Is that something you want Victor to see?” John asked, and his chest tightened bringing Victor into the conversation. “let him see it. He knows we are together John, or at the very least living with one another. I don’t care if he sees the evidence of our love on my body.” Sherlock’s articulateness never failed to impress John, but something about this statement caused an intense response. “Sherlock, are you…do you want Victor to know we are together? That I’m the one who marked up your neck?” Sherlock blushed and looked away, “oh. You do.” John said as his eyes dilated, and he pulled Sherlock into a heavy kiss. “you want him to know you're mine?” John whispered as he gently tugged Sherlock bottom lip with his teeth, a small ‘yes’ was all Sherlock could manage to choke out. “I’ll leave it up to you then, love. It’s all fine with me. It’s all fine.” John kissed him once more “I’m going to have to break this off here or else this case will never get solved.” The blogger teased as he sat back in his chair and resumed his work on his laptop.

Chapter Text

After Mycroft’s visit the two men resumed their regular routines. It wasn’t long before Sherlock’s phone rang and Lestrade was asking him questions about his discoveries, which much to Sherlock’s dismay, were not as significant as he would have liked. He had gathered so much data from his slides and his personal investigation of the case file, as well as Victor’s witness interview and the very minimal surveillance footage that had been captured from the apartment building. A typical abduction really. Emily had walked out with her dog to see Victor off after his visit. Barely a full two minutes later a tall, lean man dressed in all black and full face mask comes up behind her. Emily was looking at her phone as her little dog sniffed around, the man cuts the retractable leash and then uses the same scissors to hold against Emily’s throat before both of them disappear out of the cameras view. What made it all so difficult was the evidence all seemed to contradict itself, not to mention there were absolutely no witnesses other than the dog. Emily also seemed to just walk away with her captor, granted there were blades to her throat but there was no initial struggle like there should have been.

Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, his brain was far too active to try and narrow down a few pieces of evidence. His thoughts were interrupted as John came down the steps from his room, which was really a glorified walk in closet ever since he and Sherlock began sleeping together. “Harry called me a few minutes ago” John spoke as he made his way towards Sherlock. “She and her fiancé have apparently called off their engagement…” John sighed “Again.” He and Sherlock chimed in at the same time and gave each other a small smile. “yeah. So she’s wanting to meet up for coffee and I’m guessing talk about why it ended this time. We’re supposed to meet her near her place, that is if you don’t need me around right now.” John cupped his hand around the back of Sherlock’s head and kissed him. “It’s fine, need to go to my mind palace for a while anyway.” Sherlock stood and walked with John towards the stairwell before kissing him goodbye.

Sherlock lay on the couch, flat on his back, as he cherished the silence of their home. He quickly was entering his mind palace- going through rooms, files, and vaults of information hoping to find a loose thread in the case.

Two hours or so had passed. Sherlock was still deep in his head and it wasn’t until someone wrapped a hand softly around his wrist that he began to come back to reality. He knew it was a little too early for John to be back, and even if he was, he would never interrupt Sherlock when he was in his mind palace, especially not by touching him. When he opened his eyes, Victor was hovering above him. Sherlock stood up quickly and took a step back looking slightly down towards Victor, “what do you want?” Sherlock managed to keep his voice unwavering. “I was with Lestrade who wanted to drop off some of the photographs to you but got caught up with another case, so I offered to bring them.” Victor said as he set a manila file on the coffee table. “how nice of you.” Sherlock mumbled sarcastically.

“Lestrade called this morning, he didn’t say anything about photographs.” Sherlock shot back, walking casually to the other side of the room to his desk.

Victor nodded, “yeah, well he did actually. You stopped replying back to him shortly after he called. He said you do that a lot, just set your phone down and forget about it when he’s still on the call.”

Sherlock hummed in reply, “Well, if that’s all then I’d like to get back to trying to locate your sister.”

“well, actually I was hoping to stick around for a bit. I told Lestrade it would be a while before id be back since he’s occupied anyway and unless you want me to tell him that you kicked me out because we used to be boyfriends then I suggest you let me stay.” Victor had a teasing tone in his voice, and he walked towards Sherlock. “Where’s John at?”

“Out, he will be back soon.” Sherlock said, hopeful that the prospect of John’s return would prevent Victor from trying anything he did yesterday in the lab.

Victor came closer to where Sherlock stood, this time Sherlock didn’t back away. “He’s very handsome Sherlock, I can see why you like him” he brought his hand up to Sherlock’s neck and ran his fingers down it and over the love bite under his jawline. “it looks like he likes you too. Does he make you feel special? Tell you you’re so smart and impressive? The pretty ones always are stupid. You’re pretty too, always have been-I can see why you two fell for one another.” Victor still had his fingers caressing Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock struggled to speak with what felt like a massive lump in his throat, he felt nearly paralyzed in fear. “ Oh, another one” Victor smirked in amusement as he moved Sherlock’s shirt collar to the side and now began tracing the purple mark near his collar bone. He looked up at the dark headed man and gave him a sinister smile before leaning forward and licking over the bruise. “hmm, how far do these things go down?” he taunted as he began trying to undo one of Sherlock’s top buttons. Sherlock quickly grabbed his hand and took a step closer to Victor, “Don’t touch me.” Sherlock seethed and shoved away Victor’s’ hand, once again moving to the opposite side of the room.

Victor looked mildly taken aback and scoffed, “come on Sherlock, we had a good run. It doesn’t have to be over.”

There was a fire lit behind Sherlock’s eyes, “It is over. It has been for a long time. It’s ALL over.” His voice was strong and clear, surprising even himself.

“oh, but it’s not, is it? You still think about me all the time. Despite what you tell yourself you haven’t gotten over me. Remember, I’m not stupid Sherlock. You think I don’t know that you still regularly cut yourself? What else would those bandages be for? It always was your favorite spot. You’ve tried to get over me since the last day you saw me, and you can’t. You miss me. I made your life interesting. You could read everyone else, could impress everyone with your deductions and intellect, but not me. You always struggled to read me-you still do, and when you did, I was never very impressed. I was so unpredictable. I made your life exciting.” Victor was now sitting in John’s chair, looking towards Sherlock who had slowly made his way back to the couch.

“you are awfully concerned about me and our past relationship for someone who’s sister was just abducted and taken god knows where.” Sherlock said not responding to any of what Victor wanted him to.
Victor didn’t respond. They sat there staring at one another for several minutes. “have you found anything out. Where she might be, who might have taken her?” Victor finally asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know anything for sure yet, but I have some ideas.” Sherlock replied.

“Care to share any of them with me?” Victor asked, adjusting in the chair.

“no. I was in the middle of making progress when you rudely interrupted me and I-“

“can I see your bedroom?” Victor cut him off and Sherlock’s face did little to hide the fact that he was thrown off by the question.

“my bedroom? Why would you- never mind I don’t care. No. you need to leave. Now. I’m done with this; I’m done with you.” Sherlock stood and took Victor’s jacket that was draped over the doorknob and he threw it down the stairs. Victor threw his hands up in a teasing display of defeat and got up from John’s chair and stood in front of Sherlock, “I’ll see you around.”

And with that Victor left 221b and Sherlock watched from the window as he got into a cab. Victor was, in every sense of the word, vile. He took a few calming breaths and tried to forget the way his fingers and mouth traced his skin. Despite him not being in the wrong, he felt dirty.

The sound of light, slow footsteps began to become louder-Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock sighed in relief. “hello, love. Brought you your mid-day cuppa.” She smiled and set the cup and saucer on the little table next to John’s chair. “Mrs. Hudson, do you just let anyone into this flat, do you ever think that might be a bit dangerous?” Sherlock said a little too harshly. Mrs. Hudson looked around, confused “no, dear. Usually John tells me when you are expecting a client.” Sherlock sighed loudly, “Well he didn’t tell you to expect anyone, today did he?”

“well, no. anyway, I was going to bring your tea earlier but I heard you talking to someone and figured I shou-“she continued on until Sherlock interjected, “ you heard me talking with someone? You did know someone was up here?”

“no, I’ve not let anyone in today I figured you must have. I came up when I heard him leave a few moments ago.” Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock with a knowing stare. Mrs. Hudson always saw through his façade. She knew he was nervous that he didn’t know what was going on.

Victor’s voice echoed in Sherlock’s head, “can I see your bedroom?”. Sherlock quickly made his way to his room and saw the window was left open. He felt sick, Victor knew where he lived, where he slept, how to get in, what else did he know that Sherlock didn’t. a new feeling washed over him not fear or dread, but undeniable, painstakingly intense anxiety. Sherlock shut the window and frantically looked around for something to wedge between the glass pane and top of the window frame so that it couldn’t be opened. He finally found a wooden rod that once had a poster hanging from it, but he discarded the image years ago. His breathing was heavy and quick as he forced the stick into position and tried himself to open the window, only satisfied when he couldn’t get it to budge in the slightest. He bent beside his bed to grab his towel when he smelled a strong and familiar scent. He picked up his pillow and brought it to his face, coughing as the scent filled his airways. He thought fast and his blood ran cold when he realized what the smell was: Victor’s cologne-the kind he used to wear when they were together. He stripped all of the bedding angrily and threw it in the washing machine. He grabbed a towel and made his way to the bathroom. Yes, he had already showered this morning, but he was desperate to get the feeling of Victor off of him.

Sherlock stripped and got in the shower, turning the water as hot as he could stand it. His once ivory skin began to turn red, as if he had spent all day laying in the sun. He grabbed his loofa and body wash and scrubbed at his skin, especially over the spots Victor had touched. No matter how much soap he used or how hard he scrubbed he couldn’t seem to feel clean. He finally let himself have the moment he had been fighting off, he was in the shower after all no one could see him cry there.

He leaned his head against the cool tile wall as he sobbed with frustration. Not fear or anger. Pure frustration and he wasn’t even sure if it was directed towards Victor or himself.

When he finally composed himself, Sherlock reached to turn off the shower water; accepting defeat that no matter what he did he was going to feel gross for some time. Just as he began to turn the tap off, he spotted John’s body wash on the corner of the tub. He saturated his sponge in the gel like liquid and rubbed it over his body letting it soak into his skin as he breathed in deep. The scent of John surrounded him and for at least a few moments he was at ease.

Sherlock redressed and went back to his bedroom, realizing he forgot his dressing gown and some dry socks. He heard John enter the flat and he was anxious to get back to his lover. As Sherlock looked at the window one last time before he left the room a clump of something dark brown caught his eye. He looked at the bottom windowpane and observed the marks scraped down the side. Sherlock cracked a small smile to himself and ran to grab a clean cotton bud. He ran the swab over the markings and went back to his microscope, rubbing the substance on a clean slide.

“Hey love.” John said as he hung up his coat and went into the kitchen to make some tea “find something interesting?” John asked curiously.

“We are about to find out.” Sherlock said in an almost sing song tone that made John lift his eyebrow and smile. He walked over to Sherlock, abandoning his tea.

Sherlock slipped the slide under the microscope and quickly began scanning it for what he was looking for. Suddenly his fingers stopped moving on the turn dials and he laughed in a low and relieved kind of way. All of Sherlock’s theories he had been having, the ones he didn’t vocalize, not even to John. The reason the evidence was so polarizing. It was all coming full circle.

“well, what is it?” John asked eagerly

“It’s perfect.” Sherlock stated, unable to stop staring at the slide.

“Right, but what is perfect?” John asked, a supportive hand resting on Sherlock’s back.

Sherlock looked up at John a smile on his face

“Guano.”

Chapter Text

Sherlock was elated. He moved quickly around the flat sputtering off nonspecific details about why he was right, and that today was turning into a very good day. John watched fondly as Sherlock was gathering papers and muttering to no one in particular.

John makes his way to Sherlock and goes to wrap an arm around the taller man. He had barely made contact with Sherlocks torso when his lover’s talking stopped, and Sherlock retracted from John; the whole environment of their little flat had changed drastically in a split second. A look of concern washed over the good doctor’s face, “Sherlock?” he questioned, but before he could ask if he was alright the mood had changed again.

Sherlock registered that he pulled away from John, something he hadn’t done in quite some time. As soon as he realized what he had done he brought himself close to John, grabbing the shorter man’s strong hands and placing them on his waist and leaning to kiss him. The weird tension seemed to be forgotten and both men were silently grateful for it. “John. I need to call Lestrade.” Johns eyebrows furrowed slightly, “well, yes I assume you- “Sherlock cut him off, “no, I need to call him and ask him to come here so we can talk, alone.” He emphasized the last word and John felt a twinge of disappointment that he wouldn’t be included in whatever conversion was about to unfold between Sherlock and Greg. “oh. Alright. Well, I guess I’ll just head out…again.” John said mildly annoyed. “what, why?” Sherlock asked, blatantly confused. “You said you wanted to talk with Lestrade alone.” John replied reaching to take his coat off the rack. Sherlock moved to stand in front of him, “I meant without Victor. Not you.” He held the side of John’s face and kissed him passionately, as he put John’s coat back in its place. John slowly walked Sherlock back towards the couch and sat him down before straddling his lap and kissing him harder. Sherlock returned the kiss with just as much passion and enthusiasm as he was met with, when John started trailing kisses down his neck thoughts of Victor just hours before filled his mind but were quickly dismissed. Sherlock let out a wanton moan when John nipped at the nape of his neck, “Call Lestrade.” he whispered, moving his head to once again look Sherlock in the eyes. “but” Sherlock began, and John cut him off with a kiss, “we can finish this later.” John removed himself from Sherlock’s lap and handed him his phone.

Just as Sherlock was about to dial Lestrade a thought crossed his mind, “John?” he asked, and John directed his attention towards him. “you trust me, right?” John’s lips quirked into a smile “of course I do.” He answered, wondering where this conversation was headed. “I’m worried that what I’m about to tell you and Lestrade will seem far-fetched and that word of it may get back to the wrong person. I really need you to support whatever I say and to help me reason with Lestrade…since people aren’t really my area.” John nodded, “you have my full support, promise.”

Sherlock called Lestrade and requested that he not tell Victor about where he was going or that this upcoming conversation ever happened. At first the detective inspector questioned him but eventually agreed.

Lestrade arrived at Baker Street within the hour. Sherlock watched the police car pull up and remained attentive to the street even after Lestrade had entered their flat to ensure no one had followed him over. When Sherlock was satisfied that they were alone he sat down in his chair across from John’s, “You didn’t tell Victor you were called here, right?” he asked. Lestrade shook his head and answered Sherlock’s next question, “No, he wasn’t with me when you called. I figured he was on his way back from seeing you.”

John nearly spit the tea he had just taken a sip of, “What? Victor was over here?” his tone was filled with shock but tainted with anger as well.

“yeah, he dropped off a file for Lestrade while you were out.” Sherlock said casually. John nodded but gave him a look that obviously meant they were going to be talking about this later.

Lestrade sat back in the chair, “so, what did you need to tell me that was so secretive and urgent?”

Sherlock steepled his hand under his chin, “I know who took Emily Trevor, I don’t know where she is yet, but I know who took her.” John and Greg’s eyes both lit up and the DI moved closer to the edge of his seat, “alright who? Let’s arrest them and force them to tell us where- “

“no.” Sherlock interrupted. “we can’t arrest them yet. We need them to think we are still as lost about all of this as we were two days ago.”

“Sherlock, this isn’t a game. I know you enjoy this sort of thing but there is a young girl missing and relying on us to find her. There is no time for drawing this one out. Now who took her?” Lestrade scolded.

John glanced over at Sherlock, first with confused eyes but the longer he looked at Sherlock the more it became evident that John had caught on, even before Lestrade-but that wasn’t all that shocking. “Victor.” John said in an almost whisper. “you think Victor took her.” John said louder and Sherlock nodded, “very good John.”

“Victor? Her brother? Sherlock come on. That’s far-fetched even for you. He’s been more than cooperative this entire time. He would not kidnap his own sister and then file the report for it.” Greg complained. The room was silent for a moment before Greg asked, “would he?”

“Obviously,” Sherlock shot back “I took dozens of DNA swabs from inside an outside of Emily’s apartment. Everything appeared normal except for one thing. Guano, bat feces, showed up on one of the slides I examined. At first, I thought it was just a small lead, definitely the most interesting slide I collected, that was until Victor came over her to drop off that file. A lump of dirt must have fallen off one of his shoes and I just happened to think to look at it under my microscope, and it showed the same type of bat feces and sediment as the one I collected from the spot outside of the apartment that Emily was taken from.” Sherlock was speaking very quickly; the doctor and inspector were hanging on his every word. “I need to go back to Emily’s apartment tonight to make sure I am 100% correct. Victor has been all too cooperative on this case wouldn’t you say? Sure you can play it off that he’s concerned about his sister and wants to do all that he can but what if he is keeping himself overly involved in order to throw us off his track, to put doubt in our minds even if we came to this conclusion.” Sherlock finished and Lestrade looked like he was about to refute what the detective had just said, but John spoke up before he got the chance, “even you have to admit ,Lestrade, he spends an awful lot of time with you, with us, around the Yard. You’ve worked with hundreds of missing person cases and I’m sure some family members want to be involved more than others, but have you really ever encountered someone so persistent about being this close to the investigation.”

Lestrade was silent for a moment, “ I’ll give you 10 minutes in her apartment, but someone has to be there with you from my team and since I assume you want to keep this on the down low it will have to be me.” Sherlock shook his head, “no I need to make sure Victor is with you. He can’t know we went back to her apartment.” Lestrade sighed, “I can’t let you in there alone. John, why don’t you stay with Victor. I’ll give him some fake paperwork to fill out and you can keep an eye on him while Sherlock and I run out there.” Just as Sherlock was about to protest John agreed.

They all moved from their respective spots. Sherlock had called a cab to get a head start towards Emily’s apartment and he was waiting upstairs for it to arrive. Greg was going to drive John to NSY and leave his car there so that nothing looked suspicious when Victor arrived, he was then going to leave to meet Sherlock at the apartment complex. “Ready to go?” Greg called to John. “Yeah, one minute. Gonna grab a different coat.” John called back at he walked towards Sherlock’s bedroom and motioned for Sherlock to follow him. Once they were inside John placed a hand on Sherlock’s arm and it twitched beneath him, his mouth flattened into a line, but he didn’t ask. “be safe okay?” he asked, but it came across as more of a command. Sherlock nodded and his curls bounced softly, “you too.” He returned. They shared a short kiss before Sherlock’s phone dinged, telling him that his cab had arrived, and he left.

John went to the chest of drawers near the window and took out the coat he came after when he noticed the wooden stick propped in the frame. He shook his head and disregarded it as part of an experiment of Sherlock’s. He also took notice of the bed being stripped of its sheets, that was harder for him dismiss. Sherlock never did the laundry. He cleared it from his mind the best he could and met Greg outside and they made the trip to New Scotland Yard.

Greg had called Victor on the way there and he was quick to meet him at the station. Lestrade explained that he had to go check up on the same case as earlier and that John could answer any questions he had about the forms. Lestrade made quick work of leaving the station and making his way to Sherlock’s location.

Alone in Lestrade’s office, Victor was hunched over the stack of paperwork, unaware that none of it was actually needed, while John was silently scrolling through the comments on his latest blog post. John was propped up on Lestrade’s desk, almost directly in front of Victor. It was Victor who broke the silence first, “where’s Sherlock?” he inquired and John boredly answered “back at the flat.” Several more minutes of quiet passed before Victor spoke again “so are you and him a couple?” he asked, catching John’s attention. “uh, yeah.” John replied. Victor smirked, “for how long?” John blinked a few times to make sure that this was a real conversation he was having, “a few months now, why?” he asked. Victor shrugged and placed a hand on the doctor’s knee, slowly running his fingers up John’s inner thigh, “just curious I suppose. I mean I figured, especially with those bites on his neck, especially the one near his collar bone.” John’s eyes widened; he knew Victor had been at the flat but why had he been close enough to Sherlock to see that love bite. All the confusing events from the past few days raced through his mind: Sherlock moving away from his touch or flinching under his hands, the loop hole in Sherlock’s story- when he came back from coffee with Harry, Sherlock was coming out of their bedroom with the cotton bud he found the evidence on, he said it came from Victor’s shoe but why would Victor have been in their bedroom. John’s blood ran cold. He remembered the wooden stick holding the window closed and the bed stripped of its sheets.

John forcefully grabbed Victor’s hand off of his thigh, squeezing it with all the anger he had kept pent up. In one quick motion John had Victor’s arm behind his back and was hovering over the vile man. “Did you touch him!” John seethed and Victor didn’t answer, only smirked. John took his other arm and pressed his forearm under Victor’s chin and forced his head backwards, straining over the back of the chair. John was far from gentle in his actions and it soon became obvious Victor was in pain. “Did you fucking touch him?” John spat in his face. Victor’s eyes showed little emotion, “how could I not?” John pushed Victor’s head back even more until he was begging him to stop, John did stop but he didn’t release the pressure, “Listen to me. This case isn’t about you or your sister to me. I don’t care if you sister fucking rots and you never see her or find closure, if it means Sherlock is kept safe from you. I will not allow you to so much as breathe in the wrong direction towards him. And when I find out what you’ve done to him when I’m not around- and I WILL find out- I will put you in a state so horrific you’ll wish you were burning with the devil himself.” John got off of Victor and took a few deep breaths. Victor returned to sitting how he had previously been, not saying a word to John and looking seemingly unaffected by the events that had just unfolded. John however was consumed in rage and a hint of guilt for leaving his boyfriend at any time during this case. The knowledge that Victor had put his hands back on Sherlock in some kind of way made John want to forget his moral code, the oaths he had taken as both a doctor and soldier and destroy the man sat in front of him; but instead he sat with his hand nearly shaking in anger.

John received a text from Lestrade that he was ten minutes out from the Yard. “Lestrade is almost here, finish up.” He directed Victor and he quickly filled out the last few signature spaces in the document he was on. Victor stood and came far too close to John for the doctor’s liking, “You’re forgetting something John.” He stated and John looked at him confused. “Emotional leverage.” Victor clarified, “I know things about Sherlock, things that could destroy him from the inside out. I know what makes him tick. And I also know that he doesn’t like to talk about those things-in fact I’m a little bit surprised that you know. But I bet he wasn’t even the one who told you, I’m sure it was Mycroft. He always was intervening in everyone’s business. So, if it weren’t for him you wouldn’t have any reason not to trust me or even like me. I like you John, and if you’re not going to let me play with Sherlock-I’ll play with you instead, play with your heart. Or I guess I can start recounting all the intimate details of my relationship with Sherlock, the ones that make him look crazy. Even if I expose myself a little in those stories-I’m not afraid of jail time.” Victor hissed and just as John was about to fire back at him Lestrade walked in. Victor stepped out of John’s space and turned to Lestrade who was giving them both a look of confusion.

“Right. Sorry I had to leave, but it’s all situated now.” Lestrade said as he hung up his coat. “John, thanks for coming down and helping out. Sorry for any inconvenience.”

John shook the DI’s hand, “Anytime. If you’re done with me, I’m going to head back home. To my boyfriend. Sherlock.” John stated and the awkward sentence made everyone in the room feel just that…awkward. John waved goodbye and walked out to the cab Lestrade had waiting.

Chapter Text

When John arrived at 221b he was thankful for the London traffic that had given him time to compose himself on the way home. He was unsure whether or not to tell Sherlock what he had figured out about Victor. John was, in a way, angry at Sherlock. How could he not be? He was angry and hurt that Sherlock hadn’t told him of Victor’s recent torture. Was it because he didn’t trust John? Through the anger pierced guilt and concern. John couldn’t help but blame himself for being part of the reason of whatever happened, happened; but his concern for Sherlock’s mental and physical health trumped all feelings. He sighed and made his way up the stairs, stopping at the door to lay eyes on the man he loved staring intently into his microscope.

“Get what you needed?” he asked, catching Sherlock’s attention.

Sherlock nodded and smiled softly, “mhmm, I swabbed all of Emily’s shoes and have been testing them for the same sediment found on Victor’s and the sidewalk- none of them are a match. He’s taken her somewhere only he had been before the kidnapping. There’s also an abnormally large amount of calcium mixed into these samples.”

John hummed in acknowledgment and walked to Sherlock’s side, “Can I touch you?” he asked, and Sherlock was quick to stand from his seat and give him a questioning glare “yes, why?” he asked. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and held him tightly. Sherlock embraced John and dropped a kiss to his hair. John didn’t answer Sherlock’s question, just held him. Sherlock pulled away slightly, “how did it go with Victor?”

This time it was John tensing at the mention of his name, “it was interesting. He doesn’t suspect anything that’s for sure. He asked me if we were a couple. I told him we were.”

Sherlock smirked, “good.”

“mmm, he already knew it though. Saw the marks on your neck while he was over here.” John continued and felt Sherlock tighten his posture in his embrace. “John I-“Sherlock began but John wasn’t finished. “and what was really interesting was that he knew you had one below your shirt collar.” John was growing frustrated “Sherlock, you have to be really close to see that one. Why was he that close to you? Why are the sheets off our bed?” John’s final sentence sounded like a plea for mercy and his voice cracked at the very end.

Sherlock almost couldn’t bring himself to look at John, for fear of how he may be looking at him. Ultimately, he looked at John who had tears brimming his eyes, a sight he rarely saw. Sherlock’s chest felt tight and he wanted so badly to leave the flat and escape the situation. “John, I’m sorry. I should have told you. I didn’t want you to worry or do something that could compromise this investigation. if and when we prove him guilty, he will be out of our lives for a very long time. I wanted to tell you. I just couldn’t make myself do it.” Sherlock said submissively.

John let his arms fall from Sherlock and he went to sit in his chair, “let’s talk about this.” Sherlock came to sit on John’s lap, but the doctor shook his head, “not right now. This needs to be discussed.” It hurt to shut down contact from Sherlock, especially when he had spent so much time encouraging it; but there was a time and a place for everything and now wasn’t the time. Sherlock took his next best option which was half sitting on half leaning against the arm of John’s chair, “What do you want to know?” Sherlock asked sadly.

“Everything.” John said with a small scoff, “was today the first time?”

Sherlock shook his head, “no, the first day we went to the lab and you went with Molly to the morgue…” he trailed off explaining what had happened and he watched John’s fist clench and unclench as he recounted the story. The detective smiled- bad timing for sure. “what are you smiling about?” John said coldly and his stare pierced Sherlock’s eyes. “I’m not scared that you’re going to hit me.” Sherlock said factually and watched as John’s eyes softened and his fist unclenched. “no, of course I’m not going to hit you.” he placed a hand on Sherlock’s long, slender thigh and held it there as the detective continued to talk.

Sherlock progressed to telling John about the events of today and when he came to the part where Victor tried to unbutton his shirt John closed his eyes and swallowed hard, preparing for the worst. He quickly was looking back at Sherlock when the dark-haired man told him of how he grabbed Victor’s wrist and told him not to touch him, demanding he leave. “you did that?” John said in mild disbelief, Sherlock nodded. John pulled Sherlock onto his lap and kissed him. John pulled away first “ so you all didn’t- I mean he didn’t” John stammered and Sherlock looked at him in confusion “The bedsheets.” John said clearing his throat. The realization struck Sherlock, “no, no. of course I didn’t, we didn’t. He didn’t rape me again, John. He did repulsive things that I wish he hadn’t, and I have no doubt that given a better opportunity he would force himself on me again, but no-he didn’t this time. I’m okay. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking for the last few hours.” Sherlock said draping his arms around John’s neck. John let out a long sigh of relief that he didn’t know he had been holding in. Sherlock explained the rest of what happened, not straying from detail.

“I guess it’s my turn now.” John said with a sigh. “what do you mean?” Sherlock questioned and John took one of his hands in his own. “things didn’t exactly go fine at the yard. Yes, he made some comments and asked personal questions, but he hit a nerve with me, and I snapped. I didn’t hit him or really hurt him- just threatened him a bit. He threatened me back with ‘emotional leverage’ about you, but I just thought you should know.” John said with his head hung a bit low in shame.

Sherlock put his fingers under John’s chin and tipped his head up, pulling him in to a slow kiss, “It’s all fine.”

John and Sherlock both felt relieved after confessing their encounters with Victor to one another. Sherlock was content and at ease to be sat in John’s lap and John was more than happy to have him there. They rested for several minutes in peaceful bliss, only the sound was that of the dryer humming down the hall.

“can I take you out to dinner?” John asked breaking the silence. Sherlock nodded and kissed him again removing himself from the doctor’s lap.

They went to Angelo’s and took up residency in their normal booth. This time when Angelo danced around them and brought them a candle John didn’t put up any argument. They held each other’s hand over the table and the rest of the restaurant faded into a blur as they were lost in their own conversation. They walked hand in hand back from Angelo’s, taking in the night life of London. All their troubles seemed to be forgotten for now. They stumbled into 221b laughing and carefree for the first time in a while.

John had showered and changed into his clothes for the night and Sherlock had done the same. John sat on the couch watching a late-night program and Sherlock had just finished researching a few things. He was happy and feeling confident, if not proud of himself for handling the events of today like he had. He stood from his chair and made his way towards John, taking the shorter man by surprise when Sherlock began straddling his lap. Sherlock began kissing the doctor passionately running his hands down John’s chest and ever so slightly grinding is hips into him. John made a low sound in the back of his throat as he kept one arm wrapped around Sherlock’s waist and the other hand running down his back and sides. John couldn’t resist any longer as he moved his hands down the backside of Sherlock’s body until they landed on Sherlock’s ass. Sherlock moaned softly in approval and let John squeeze and hold his ass through his thin pajama bottoms. “take me to bed?” Sherlock whispered low and seductively. John kissed him harder and hoisted them both off of the sofa and Sherlock wrapped his legs around John’s waist. He carried Sherlock upstairs to his room, remembering that Sherlock’s sheets were still not put back in place.

John lay Sherlock on the bed and crawled overtop of him, kissing biting and sucking down his neck making sure to leave a few more marks that Sherlock could be proud of. As he kissed down Sherlock’s body, he replayed Sherlock admitting that he wanted people to know he was John’s. The thought turned John on immensely and he palmed at his cock for relief.

Sherlock took notice and pulled John up, kissing him hard and reversing their positions and sensually removing John’s shirt. It was now Sherlock’s turn to kiss and lick and suck down John’s body and he enjoyed every moment, paying special attention to what made John moan or arch his back beneath him. When Sherlock reached the waistband of John’s boxers there was almost no hesitation when he placed his hand over the growing length in them. “Sherlock” John moaned, and the taller man began mouthing John through the fabric until there was a growing wet spot of precum. Sherlock pulled the shorts down slowly, kissing down John’s thighs as he did so and throwing the boxers off the bed. He took John’s thick cock in his hand licked up the length of it, wrapping his lips around the tip as he reached it. John moaned low and breathily, tangling his fingers in Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock pulled off and gave the tip a few kitten licks before taking as much of John is as he could and bobbing his head in a steady rhythm. He moaned around John’s cock and admired the way his lovers’ toes curled and back arched every now and then. “Sherlock, you’ve got to stop. I’m too close to cumming and I don’t want to yet.” John moaned. Sherlock gave his lovers cock one last lick as he pulled off and hovered back over John, kissing him.

John ran his hand down Sherlock torso and smirked when he reached Sherlock’s growing erection, taking his time to bring it to its full potential. Sherlock’s breathing was heavy, and he was growing desperate. John reversed their positions again, “What do you want?” he asked gently biting Sherlock’s lip. “Anything. Whatever you want John, I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” Sherlock said breathily. John gave him a worried look. “I promise.” Sherlock followed up with and John made quick work of repeating the actions Sherlock had just performed on him. John had experimented a bit with men in UNI and the army but if you had told him his life would have turned out this way a few months ago he would have laughed. Now John couldn’t even think about having sex with anyone besides Sherlock. John loved the taste of Sherlock’s cock, savoring the beads of precum that would occasionally flow from the tip.

“Sherlock, will you lay on your front for me, love?” John asked sweetly “I want to try something.” Sherlock bit his bottom lip slightly and rolled over. John took a second to admire Sherlock’s gorgeous pale arsecheeks, massaging them slowly as he kissed down Sherlock’s spine. “lift your hips up for me, baby” John spoke softly as he began leaving small love bites on the pale mounds. Sherlock did as he was asked. “Is this okay?” John asked and Sherlock squeaked out a small ‘yes’ not totally sure what was about to happen. John spread Sherlock’s cheeks and flattened his tongue, licking a thick wet stripe over Sherlock’s little pink hole. Sherlock inhaled sharply letting out a high-pitched breath. John smiled and couldn’t help but giggle a bit at his lovers’ response, “you alright?” he asked. Sherlock’s face was flushed and buried into John’s pillow, the detective nodded, and John continued. Sherlock moaned and squirmed with arousal as John licked his hole. John make small wet strokes, long, light teasing ones, ones where he pointed his tongue and made circles over Sherlock pucker and carried this on for several minutes. “John, please.” Sherlock panted “please I need more.” Sherlock was practically humping the mattress for relief and John had taken himself in hand, unable to watch Sherlock this hot and malleable without giving himself some pleasure. “what do you want, baby?” John asked kissing the dimple at the end of Sherlock’s spine. Sherlock groaned obscenely at the pet name; he’d never let anyone know how much he loved when John called him those silly little names. “I don’t know, I just need more of you.” Sherlock panted. John moved his body to lay equal with Sherlock’s, giving the detective a few moments to compose himself. “Sherlock, I want you to answer me honestly, baby. Do you want to have sex tonight?” John asked, unknowingly holding his breath waiting for the answer. “I want to, but I don’t think I’m- I don’t- “ John saw Sherlock spiraling into his head and kissed him, taking him back out of it. “it’s fine. There is plenty more we can do, love.” John comforted him and Sherlock nodded. John held Sherlock’s cock in his hand and stroked it slowly up and down. Sherlock closed his eyes and held his bottom lip between his teeth , “god you’re gorgeous Sherlock. I can’t believe you’re mine.” John sped up his movement slightly, tugging at his own length at the same time.

John leaned in even closer to Sherlock, “ can I finger you?” he whispered and Sherlock’s eyes opened, scanning over John. He nodded his head yes, “its-its been a really long time, John. I don’t even…to myself I mean.” Sherlock stumbled over his words. “it’s okay, I know what I’m doing, I’ll be gentile and will stop as soon as you ask.” John kissed him and Sherlock relaxed a bit more, “now, stop talking about fingering yourself or I’m going to finish too soon.” John said half-jokingly.

The doctor reached for the lube he kept in his bedside table, “lay over my lap, baby.” John said softly and Sherlock was quick to comply with the request. John spread those gorgeous cheeks once more and put a bead of lube on the area and his finger, smiling as Sherlock gasped at the cold. “it will warm up.” John reassured him as he traced his fingers around the pale pink hole and in the same pattern, he had done with his tongue moments before. When Sherlock was relaxed John slowed down just a bit, “I’m going to apply some pressure and put one finger in, okay?” John asked and saw Sherlock nod. John did exactly as he said he was going to and soon had a finger resting inside of Sherlock. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t pleasurable yet, Sherlock thought. It just felt strange. “I’m going to move a bit.” John spoke softly and began to slowly work his finger in and out of Sherlock as he whispered affirmations and rubbed the detectives back. It wasn’t long before John found that sensitive bundle of nerves he had been searching for and Sherlock jolted. “oh my god. John, John what- do that again.” Sherlock said with a small beg evident in his tone. “ I fully intend to keep doing it, baby.” John said with a smirk, brushing the nerves over and over again, Sherlock was getting close and John could tell, “ I’m going to keep doing it until you come undone on my lap.” Sherlock groaned at John’s words. He was rutting into John’s lap as John kept pushing his finger in and out. “mmm, John. John, I’m going to cum.” He moaned softly. “you’re incredible Sherlock, cum for me. Cum in my lap, baby.” John whispered and that was all it took for Sherlock to shoot his seed across John’s thighs. John slowly removed his digit from Sherlock’s hole, causing the detective to feel a bit empty.

John fully expected Sherlock to collapse next to him after an orgasm like that. But as usual Sherlock surprised John, pushing him backwards and licking his own cum off of John’s thighs before deepthroating John’s length, “oh my god” John exasperated as he watched Sherlock take him into his throat. It wasn’t a minute later that John was warning Sherlock he was about to finish, but just like that morning in the shower Sherlock swallowed all of John’s load without an issue.

John brought the covers over them and pulled Sherlock to his side, kissing his forehead and petting his head, “you were incredible.” Sherlock smiled against John’s shoulder, “so were you.”
John kissed Sherlock lazily, “happy with everything then?” John asked, causing Sherlock to giggle at the seemingly rhetorical question. “yeah, I’d say so. Especially that, um, thing you did with your…tongue.” Sherlock complimented, feeling a bit awkward. “yeah? Its been a long time since id done that, but I thought you might like it.” John said with a smile. “it’d been a long time since anything had touched me there, and nothing had been inside me since, well the last time I was with-“Sherlock was interrupted once more by John kissing him. “shh, don’t say his name right now. I know, I figured that. I feel honored, Sherlock, really. I am so flattered and humbled that you trust me like that.” John said staring into the other man’s blue eyes. Sherlock nestled in close to John and mumbled, “I love you.” into the ex-soldier’s chest. John wrapped his arms protectively around Sherlock, “I love you too.”

Chapter Text

The morning sun crept in through the light-colored curtains of John’s bedroom windows, causing the detective to stir. It wasn’t unusual for Sherlock to wake up before John, especially since he was such a light sleeper. Sherlock slowly opened his eyes letting them adjust to the bright sunlight. John’s arm was still half draped over his waist and its warmth made the rest of his body feel cold in comparison. He carefully rolled onto his back, cautious not to wake John. He briefly acknowledged that it felt strange to wake up in John’s room instead of his own but given the fact that he was worried Victor may break into his room during the night-he was more than content to sleep in John’s. His stomach grumbled slightly, and he rolled his eyes ‘transport’ he thought to himself. He knew things were beginning to change for him. He used to feel proud when he was so hungry his stomach growled, but now…he just felt hungry. John had truly begun to help him heal and recover from the very things he once accepted may kill him. Sherlock never feared dying from the criminals he chased after, never feared overdosing from the drugs that had once been his crutch, never feared becoming the hunted instead of the hunter. In fact, he never feared his own death in any form. Afterall, death is inevitable. It happens whether you fear it or not. The only situation about his death that could cause Sherlock to stop and ponder was that he knew his own actions - whether they be cutting too deep, in the wrong spot, or not eating enough to live- were the most plausible out of the millions of ways he could die. The acts he inflicted upon himself were his own impending doom. It felt as if he could help prevent everyone’s death but his own. That was until John vowed to help him. He wasn’t ‘fixed’ and he may never have a perfectly healthy relationship with food, but last night at Angelo’s he ate without feeling ashamed. Not only did he eat without an overwhelming irrational fear of gaining weight, but he had finished his pasta dish and then let John ravish him and feel his body. The corners of Sherlock’s lips turned upward ‘and ravish him John did’ he thought.

John began to stir against Sherlock’s side and moved himself closer to the taller man, pulling Sherlock out of his thoughts. John gave Sherlock a small squeeze to let him know he was awake. “morning” Sherlock said, dropping a kiss to John’s hair and cuddling in closer to him. “what time is it?” John asked still not opening his eyes. “a few minutes after 7. I need to speak with Lestrade today about the case.” Sherlock replied and reached for his phone on the bedside table. As he began to sit up John’s arm tightened around him. “Don’t leave just yet, please,” John said as he finally opened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend. “I’m not,” Sherlock spoke softly as he rubbed John’s arm “I was just going to sit up.” John loosened his grip, allowing Sherlock to prop his back against the headboard, giving John the perfect opportunity to use Sherlock’s blanket covered lap as a resting place for his head. Sherlock smiled down at the action and let one of his hands come to rest in John’s hair as he texted Lestrade with the other.

Is Victor with you? - SH

No, it’s 7AM. We don’t spend every minute together, you know. - GL

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the DI’s response.

Will you be seeing him today? - SH

He comes by around noon and sticks around until we go home. - GL

Come by the flat well before then. We need to talk. Don’t tell him, obviously. - SH

Sherlock put his phone back on the nightstand, “Lestrade will be by soon to talk about the case. Once we figure out where Emily is located, we need to act fast.” John nodded in agreement. “John, I need to get up. We both do, really,” Sherlock said, bending down to give the doctor a small peck on the lips. John groaned and rolled off of Sherlock’s lap, “fine, I’ll be down in a bit. I need to call a few of my patients and check up on them.”

Sherlock put the kettle on and began organizing the papers he had spread out on his desk. John emerged from the upstairs just as the kettle whistled. He took it off the stove and prepared his and Sherlock’s tea, setting the taller man’s cuppa on the kitchen table. John stood and gently blew on the surface of the hot liquid as he took in the scenery of the morning. Traffic could be heard faintly starting to move outside, but the flat was mostly quiet. The doctor stood to Sherlock’s side and wrapped his arms around his lover who couldn’t be bothered to get dressed yet. The dark blue silk gown hung from Sherlock’s shoulders and exposed well over half of his pale chest. John ran one of his hands over the exposed skin, catching Sherlock’s attention. The detective leaned over to kiss John languidly. Their eyes closed as they absorbed the love shared between them. Sherlock took the cup of tea from John’s hands and set it on the desk, still not breaking their kiss. With his now free hands John pulled Sherlock’s body closer to his own and admired the soft fabric that covered his boyfriend’s long and smooth body.

“John,” Sherlock was the first to break the kiss “if we continue like this nothing will ever get done.”

John didn’t reply, only let out a frustrated breath that was cut short when Sherlock suddenly pressed his mouth to John’s for a split second before taking John’s bottom lip between his and pulling off of it. “Later, though. I promise,” Sherlock’s deep baritone voice rang in John’s ears as he stood still in a slight state of shock. He picked up his tea and took a few sips as Sherlock continued organizing. “Hmpf,” he sounded “tease,” He said only half serious as he sat in his chair and caught the smile Sherlock tried to keep to himself.

Not long had passed when Mrs. Hudson opened the downstairs door and Greg was soon entering their little flat.

John and Lestrade made small talk about a recent football match until Sherlock entered the room. He was still in his partially open dressing gown and it was evident he had no shame. Of course he had no shame, this was the same man who wore only a sheet to Buckingham palace. John, however, was suffering some mild secondhand embarrassment for him.

“Ah, Gavin, good - we need to talk. I have some very important details to share with you. This case should start moving rather quickly once we work these last few details out,” Sherlock spoke quickly as he handed Lestrade a folder.

The DI looked Sherlock up and down quickly, “Right, okay. Thanks for dressing up for the occasion,” He said jokingly. “What did you find from the new evidence? Anything to convict Victor?”

“Of course, I was right. Only the samples from the sidewalk and the mud off of Victor’s shoe had the same type of DNA. None of it was found on Emily’s shoes. Not only had Victor been to this place before he went to Emily’s the night she disappeared, but he had also been back to the same location afterwards and had not cleaned his shoes before coming here. None of the sediment or guano matches with types from around here so he has most likely taken her a good amount of distance away. Perhaps even another country,” Sherlock spoke clearly and efficiently as he laid the details out for Lestrade. “I need you to find out where he has been recently.”

“Sure I’ll ask him when he st-”

“No,” Sherlock cut the DI off, “you can’t just ask him, he will know we’re on to him. You have to make him bring it up. Make him talk about it, you can allude to his travels but only touch the surface. We are fucked if he knows that we know that he took her.”

Lestrade stood, his mouth slightly agape, “Did you just say fucked?” he said in surprise, never hearing Sherlock say something as crude in the context of a case.

Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed, “Really, I’ve just told you all of this and you’re concerned about my choice of vocabulary?”

“No, sorry it’s just not very…posh,” Lestrade chastised, earning an eyeroll from the consulting detective. John huffed a small laugh from across the room. “So how do I make him tell me where he’s traveled to lately without asking him?”

“By playing double agent obviously,” Sherlock stated. “you need to flirt with him, take him to dinner, to the pub, I don’t care where. Make him open up to you about things other than the case-get him to tell you about his life, interests, hobbies - come on Lestrade didn’t they teach you any of this?”

“Flirt with him?” Lestrade’s voice raised an octave “No, and besides going undercover is not my division.”

Sherlock sighed, “Of course it’s not, nothing ever seems to be your division.”

“Why don’t you flirt with him, it’s your idea?” Greg shot back. John opened his mouth to object, but Sherlock beat him to it.

“I can’t, I’m romantically involved with John,” Sherlock stated in a mockingly offended tone.

“Yeah, well he’d understand.”

“He really wouldn’t” John chimed in, causing Lestrade to throw his hands up in exasperation.

Sherlock smirked, “Besides, that wouldn’t work. He knows John and I are together. It needs to be you. He trusts you; god knows you already spend half the day together.”

“Sherlock, I’m not gay”

“But you’re not straight.”

“I’ve got a wife!”

“Oh, do you this week? You didn’t last week, I can never keep track,” Sherlock said sarcastically, and Greg’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “It’s the only way it will work.”

Lestrade rubbed his hand over his face, “Fine. Fine. You win, as usual. I’ll take him out tonight and come over later to discuss our next move.” And with that the DI left.

Sherlock broke into a huge smile as he sat himself on John’s lap, letting his legs dangle over the arm of the chair. John wrapped an arm around his lover’s waist, “Proud of yourself?” John asked with a smug look on his face and Sherlock nodded. “I cannot believe you just convinced Lestrade to take Victor on a date,” John said with a chuckle.

As usual Victor showed up to NSY a little after noon and sat down in his spot in Lestrade’s office. The day progressed as usual, but Greg was nearly shaking with nervousness as it grew closer to closing time. Just as Victor began to pack his briefcase Lestrade stood from his desk and walked to stand in front of him. Victor smiles a debonair grin at him and Lestrade reached out to gently lay a hand on the side of the other man’s arm. “I know we’ve not known each other long, but I uh-was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight.” Victor seemed confused at first but was soon blushing and nodding his head yes.

Lestrade had truly turned on the charm for tonight’s date, and if he didn’t know that Victor had kidnapped his own sister he would have actually been interested in the guy. As the wine flowed, so did their conversations. It seemed as if they had talked about every event from their lives. The restaurant was closing and had to ask the men to leave, but the DI hadn’t obtained the information he had sought out yet. They stood near Victor’s car under the street lamps, “I don’t really want to go yet…” Lestrade trailed off, looking towards the sidewalk and holding one of Victor’s hands in front of them.

Victor reached his free hand up to caress Greg’s face before holding it, “We could go back to my place,” He whispered looking up at Lestrade before connecting his lips with those of the silver haired man. Lestrade kissed back and nodded in approval.

They drove back to Victor’s small but lavish house and Greg sat down on the couch, slightly tense and observing the room. He didn’t have many one-night stands, and certainly not many with criminals he thought to himself. Male criminals his subconscious reminded him and he internally cursed Sherlock. Victor sat next to him and the pair continued their conversation between lazy kisses. “Do you want some more wine?” Victor offered. Greg nodded, “Please.” Victor stood, “It’s in the basement. I’ll be right back,” He said placing his hand high up on Greg’s thigh and giving him one more kiss.

As soon as Victor left Lestrade let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding in. ‘god what was he doing’ he thought as he continued to scan the small living room. Finally, a glimmer of hope caught his eye in the form of a passport. He made quick work of grabbing it and was shocked to see another one under it. He quickly opened the first one, which belonged to Victor and had been last stamped in the pattern of Gatwick airport, Charles de Gaulle airport, and then Gatwick again- all within a 24-hour time period. Greg committed the information to memory before picking up the next booklet belonging to…Emily Marie Trevor. Shit-the curly haired bastard was right about everything. Emily’s passport was stamped in Gatwick the same time as her brother’s and again at Charles de Gaulle, but there was no return stamp back to the UK. Greg heard Victor begin to climb the stairs and he hurriedly put everything back just as he had found it.

Victor sat two wine glasses down and poured them a serving of sauvignon blanc. Lestrade was desperate to leave but knew it would be suspicious if he had to leave immediately after Victor had left him alone, so he continued to play along. It wasn’t hard to play along, Victor was charismatic, charming, enthusiastic and a great conversationalist; not to mention easy on the eyes. The mood of the evening quickly changed when Lestrade found himself being straddled by the strawberry blonde who was kissing along his neck. “I have work tomorrow, I really should go,” Lestrade said casually and Victor looked down at him with hurt in his eyes. “You could stay over,” he offered but Lestrade shook his head. Seeing the disappointed look in Victor’s eyes pulled at his disgustingly sentimental heart and he pulled Victor into a deep passionate kiss, “Another time, I promise,” He said and Victor nodded as he removed himself from Greg’s lap.

Greg quickly called a cab and rushed to 221b. He took the seventeen stairs up two at a time and found the two men laying on the couch, Sherlock’s head in John’s lap. Sherlock sat up quickly and John cleared his throat. They all moved to their respective chairs out of habit. When Sherlock walked past Greg, his nose scrunched up in disgust, “god, you smell like him. I said flirt with him, I didn’t say you had to shag him.”

Greg rolled his eyes and began to protest but Sherlock was quick to cut him off, “Tell me what you found,” He demanded calmly.

Lestrade told them all about the passports and Sherlock’s excitement grew as the story continued. All of a sudden, the excitement stopped as a light bulb went off in his head. “Oh! Oh, how could I have been so stupid! It all makes so much sense.” The detective exclaimed rising from him chair, “The guano, the sediment, the calcium, it’s Christmas!”

John and Greg shared a confused look. “John, tell me I’m brilliant.”

“You’re bri-” John started.

“No, John. Give your self some credit; work it out, tell me why I’m brilliant. Where is Emily Trevor. If you were going to kidnap someone, take them to France-specifically Paris- and leave them there to die, where would you take them,” Sherlock was looking intently at John with high expectations.

Sherlock knew the second John had worked it out, he gasped, and his eyes widened. John spoke in shock, barely above a whisper…

“The Catacombs.”

Chapter Text

“The catacombs?” The DI’s interest was at an absolute peak “you think he’s put her in the catacombs, the place with all the bones and skulls?”

“where else?” Sherlock said as his voice fluctuated to a higher tone. “Where do the best criminals hide things? In plain sight. He has put her under the city with thousands of other bodies and bones. It could be years before she is found and no one would ever bat an eye at another set of bones even if they are out of place.”

“I don’t know, Sherlock. The catacombs are open to the public, hell- they even have scheduled tours everyday. She would have caught someone’s attention by now.” Lestrade tried to reason with the detective.

“no, no- the part of the catacombs that is able to be accessed by the public is so minuscule in comparison to how many secret passageways and tunnels can be entered by waterways, manholes, holes in the grounds- the possibilities are endless. There are over 200 miles of tunnels and caverns.” Sherlock explained, pacing back and forth.

John watched his boyfriend in fascination, “200 miles of tunnels, Sherlock how are we going to find where he has put her? That seems impossible even for you- there is no set map of that place.”

“I have a homeless network in Paris and some connections with people who know the Catacombs like you and I know the streets of London. There is an elusive group of people who call themselves cataphiles who frequently explore, visit, hold parties, etcetera in the non-public parts of the tunnels- they will be more than willing to help me, it still won’t be easy but it can be done.” Sherlock spoke with confidence, but his voice faltered a bit at the end. He knew the even the most experienced of explorers have gotten lost in the underground labyrinth of Paris.

Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant man in many ways, he sought out adventure and danger-this was no secret. But even he with his normally exuding confidence knew he was no explorer. Having to trust his safety and Emily’s return to members of his homeless network was more than concerning, he dreaded the feeling of not being in control and the uncertainty that followed it.

“So what’s next?” Lestrade spoke up, breaking the silence.

“get your passport ready, we’re going to Paris.” Sherlock said with small smile.

“what about Victor? What am I supposed to do with him? He will no doubt be suspicious if we all leave the country. In fact he’s going to be suspicious if just one of leaves.” Lestrade questions.

Sherlock tenses, knowing Lestrade is right. John pipes up, “why can’t you just detain him for a few days, until we find Emily and get her to confess.” Sherlock shot John an icy glare, “no. He’s liable to start saying anything if we lock him up and I’m too close to cracking this case for him to screw it up.” John nodded his head in understanding of what Sherlock meant. He knew if Victor felt threatened he would sing like a lark to anyone who would listen about his and Sherlock’s past. John’s moral code gave him an internal confliction. He knew the correct thing to do by law was to lock Victor up so that he was unable to interfere any further with the case, but he also knew what was right by his boyfriend and to help spare his heart being in emotional turmoil- he sided in favor of Sherlock.

The detective had set down in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “ I think we are going to have to take him with us.” Sherlock spoke up, earning very confused looks from John and Greg both.

“Sorry, let me get this straight. You don’t want to detain him or want him to know we are leaving the country but you want to invite him with us?” Greg said surprised.

“yes, well- no- kind of. I don’t want him to know John and I are there but if his new found love interest invites him to Paris on a little getaway and keeps him out of my way, things will be significantly easier for us. Take him around the city, out to dinner all those terribly mundane things you goldfish seem to enjoy, whatever you have to do to keep him distracted and out of my way for a day or so.” Sherlock spoke very matter of fact but was secretly concerned it wouldn’t be that simple. Greg rubbed his hand over his face and nodded in agreement, “yeah, alright. I’ll tell him tomorrow.” John and Sherlock both stood and walked Greg down the stairs, “John and I will get on a plane to Paris tomorrow morning, give me at least 24 hours in the city to sort out a few things before you all fly in.” Lestrade nodded once more and they said their goodnights.

For the past several minutes Sherlock had had a lump in his throat that he couldn’t quite swallow down, he cursed himself knowing that it was the same type of lump that had formed the night he sappily confessed how thankful he was for John- the sentiment type of lump. They were still stood in the downstairs, “John, I’ll come up in a minute.” Sherlock said out of the blue, his eyes not meeting John’s. The doctor had questions of course but decided those would be left for a different time. Instead he nodded and gave Sherlock’s arm a little squeeze and went upstairs.

Sherlock stepped outside of 221b where Lestrade was smoking and staring up at the night sky. “Lestrade” Sherlock called out, startling the DI a bit. Greg turned to Sherlock momentarily before resuming his gaze at the myriad of the stars and clouds over London as Sherlock joined him, trying to prepare what he wanted to say. The two stood in silence for a few moments before Lestrade extended his hand in Sherlock’s direction, between his fingers a cigarette. The detective gratefully accepted. He reached again for Greg’s lighter and lit the end of the stick.

“You like him.” Sherlock declared, no evidence of question in his voice.

Lestrade looked up, his eyes wide “oh for Christ’s sake, Sherlock” he started but then fell silent. “I can’t believe we are having this conversation- me and you.” he scoffed before continuing “yeah, I do. But It can’t and won’t happen, I know that. He’s guilty. no matter how badly I may not want him to be in the moment- I know he is. You’re right, it’s obvious he’s the one whose kidnapped her. I saw it for myself and still don’t want to believe it.” Lestrade and Sherlock both took a long drag from their cigarettes. “it won’t affect the case, I promise.” Lestrade spoke with conviction and Sherlock believed him. Lestrade may not be the world’s best detective inspector but he wasn’t one to compromise a case for personal gain. The DI let out a breathy laugh, “the one person I take a massive interest in for the first time in over five years is a criminal. He’s nice- well it’s fake obviously now but he puts on a good show- he’s charismatic, got a great sense of humor, and i’m sure you’d agree with me that he’s ruggedly handsome. Shit, why am I telling you this.”

“ because it’s what I wanted you to tell me, I just didn’t have to ask.” Sherlock said cockily “ he is undoubtably a criminal, and I hope that plays in your favor of not getting overly attached, but even if he wasn’t” Sherlock took a deep breath “ you should stay away from him.”

Lestrade turned his head quickly looking up at Sherlock, silently begging for an explanation. “you trust me, don’t you?” Sherlock asked and the DI nodded, “you’re insane, and a complete git sometimes but yeah do; I mean I let you on crime scenes all the time and rare-“ Sherlock turned to the slightly shorter man, “No. I don’t mean about work. I mean as a person, as your…friend.” The consulting detective spoke delicately, slightly uncomfortable by the conversation he had started. Lestrade sighed, “yeah, I do.”

“Then do only what you must for the case. Don’t get too involved with him.” Sherlock threw the dying cigarette to the ground and stomped out the ember. He looked up towards their flat and saw John’s figure stood in the window, shamelessly watching the two of them from above. “Right. Thanks, I suppose.” Greg said awkwardly as he extended his hand to the darker haired man and Sherlock shook it with a nervous smile, “see you after we find Emily.” Sherlock began walking towards the door but then he turned back, “oh, Greg. I need you to do me a favor…The night I go looking for Emily, I’m not taking John with me. I need you to reason with him and keep him from going after me. “ They both nodded in understanding and the DI pulled away.

Sherlock climbed the stairs and saw John was still waiting by the window. As he came into view John turned and smiled at him, “Everything okay?” he asked and Sherlock nodded bending down to kiss him, wrapping his arms around his waist and let his hands come to rest on his lower back. “want to tell me what you all talked about?” John asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Sherlock mumbled a little laugh, “I just warned him not to get too attached to Victor.” John blinked up at his boyfriend, “Sherlock Holmes, you are a good man.” Sherlock sighed slightly annoyed by the emotion, “yours.” He hummed. And John nodded against his chest, “My good man.” The doctor perched onto his toes and kissed his lover passionately, “my brilliant, wonderful, sexy as hell, good man.” He said nipping at Sherlock’s neck causing the detective to laugh. The mood of the flat quickly began to shift into a seductive and sultry lull.

John grabbed Sherlock hips and pulled him in close to his own, kissing his lover hard as their tongues fought for dominance. John began walking Sherlock back towards the couch before he assertively threw the detective on the cushions and climbed on top of him. Sherlock’s eyes went wide in surprise but grew dark with lust as he grabbed the front of John’s shirt and once again pulled him closer to him and back into a kiss. John began grinding his quickly growing erection into Sherlock’s and began undoing Sherlock’s shirt as the darker haired man began tugging at his. The two quickly found themselves in only their boxers, limbs tangled together and growing more desperate for friction. “you’re so incredible, baby.” John murmured against Sherlock’s skin and the detective all the but preened at the compliment and pet name. “bed. Now please.” Sherlock said desperately. John nodded and picked him up as Sherlock wrapped his legs around John’s waist. John carried his lover to Sherlock’s bedroom, “I’m going to give you a much different reason to wash these sheets.” He teased and Sherlock relaxed in his arms, letting out a breathy giggle.

John placed Sherlock on the bed and removed his underwear, taking his long, hard cock into his mouth and moaning around it. Sherlock closed his eyes and laid a hand on the top of John’s head, letting his fingers tangle in the blondish silver hair. John was obsessed with every inch of Sherlock’s gorgeous body, but he definitely had his favorite spots and Sherlock’s cock was high on the list. John took generous amounts of Sherlock’s long member in his mouth and throat and he gentle caressed Sherlock’s inner thighs. He pulled off of his lovers’ cock with a soft popping sound and lowered his head even further, taking one of Sherlock’s balls into his mouth. The detective groaned loudly, “Fuck, John.” John beamed with pride on the inside and took his lover by surprise when he forcefully flipped him over and spread his perfect pale cheeks and licked a wide stripe over his hole. Sherlock inhaled sharply and buried his head his pillow. The fact that John wasn’t constantly checking in on him and asking if he was alright was boosting his arousal significantly. Sherlock was writhing under John, desperately trying to grind his hips into the mattress. John held his hips higher above the mattress, “I want you to come only from me.” He said just above a whisper in a sultry tone. “God, John.” Sherlock moaned into the pillow. John continued circling and probing at Sherlock tight hole with his expert tongue as Sherlock was slowly falling apart under his touch.

“John” Sherlock said in a conversational way rather than a moan of extasy. John moaned out a small ‘hmm’ encouraging Sherlock to continue. “John, I want you to fuck me.” Sherlock said seriously. The doctor stopped dead in his tracks and replayed the sentence in his head. He kissed up Sherlock’s back until he reached the nape of his lovers’ neck. His cock came to rest nestled between Sherlock’s bubble-like cheeks, “Sherlock… are you sure?” he asked hesitantly and felt the detective nod his head. “yes, John. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t serious. Please. Please I need it. Put your cock inside me.” Sherlock was borderline begging as he pushed back against John’s raging hard length. John held Sherlock tightly in his arms and leaned over the other man’s shoulder to kiss him, “we don’t have to, if you want to stop-“ John started, sounding like a broken record, but a sweet one. Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes “ I know, I know, I’ll tell you if I want to stop. Now fuck me.” John moaned deeply, hearing Sherlock talk like this was intensifying his own arousal. The shorter man took the bottle of lube from the nightstand and began to work Sherlock open with his fingers. The detective’s cock was leaking with pre-come and he was completely pliant under John’s touch. Only for John Watson would Sherlock be pliant.

John removed his slick fingers and wiped them on their sheets, hesitating to say anything. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “um, so, how do you want to do this?” he asked, and Sherlock looked back at him in confusion “What do you mean?”. John gently rubbed Sherlock’s back, “ Do you want to lay on your stomach, or on your knees… you could lay on your back, or ride me, or…” the doctor trailed off. “oh. Um, you pick, I was only ever allowed on my knees-so I don’t know.” Sherlock spoke shyly. John felt the familiar feeling of a sad anger rise in his chest, it usually happened whenever Sherlock disclosed details of his so called romance with Victor. “right, so not on your knees. Turn over, baby, I want to be able to look at you.” John said and Sherlock followed his request. John hovered above him, kissing him slowly and gently stroking his lovers cock “you’re so beautiful, Sherlock.” John ran his hands down Sherlock’s body until he reached his long legs and helped the detective place them over his shoulders. John looked intently at Sherlock’s face, it was obvious the younger man was nervous, but it was expected. John smiled softly at him and looked at him with nothing but love held in his eyes, “ready?” he whispered and Sherlock nodded. John took himself in hand and made sure to rub a generous amount of lubricant to his cock. He began slowly grazing the tip of his thick cock over Sherlock’s hole, he repeated the action several times before stilling at his lovers entrance. He looked down at Sherlock whose eyes were closed, John intent on watching his loves facial expressions. John slowly began to apply pressure and Sherlock was gripping the sheets between his fists and was holding his breath. Before John could even breech Sherlock’s ring Sherlock gasped sharply, “stop, stop, stop, please stop.” He pleaded, the words coming out quickly. John immediately pulled back and took Sherlock’s legs off his shoulders, backing away to give him some space.

John’s chest felt tight with concern as he laid down next to Sherlock who still had his eyes closed and was breathing rapidly. John placed a hand on his chest and pressed himself to the tall man’s side, “it’s okay” he said kissing his cheek “you’re safe. I’m here.” Sherlock rolled onto his side and into John’s chest, throwing a leg over the doctor, “I’m so sorry” he sobbed and tears threatened to prick John’s eyes. “no, love. You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing. Understand me?” John said kindly and pulled back to look at Sherlock who didn’t respond. “you did incredible. Baby, just the fact you wanted to…that’s a huge deal. I’m not upset, I’m not mad. I’m the opposite really, I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” John briefly acknowledged his overuse of pet names, but knew Sherlock loved them and subconsciously hoped they would make him feel better. John continued to whisper words of reassurance to his hurting lover, but Sherlock never responded to them. Their erections and sexual energy had subsided a while ago and they lay there holding one another until Sherlock finally broke the silence.

“will you go to Tesco and get some things for our trip tomorrow? We will leave early in the morning.” he said, catching John off guard.
“Now? It’s after midnight.”

“Yes. Please, John. I just want to be alone for a bit.” Sherlock’s voice had returned to its normal tone, but John knew his boyfriend was still hurting.

John sighed and got up, putting his clothes’ back on. “So, we’re just not going to talk about it?” he asked, a hint of frustration evident in his voice. Sherlock laid on his back and pulled the covers over his body in shame. He took a deep breath, “you did everything right John. You shouldn’t blame yourself for anything, I certainly don’t.” Sherlock was in pain, deep heart wrenching pain but he knew he couldn’t fix it all in this moment.

“okay, I’ll be back within the hour.” He said giving Sherlock a quick kiss and heading out of the flat.

Back upstairs Sherlock let the tears flow freely. His chest heaved with every sob and he was soon consumed by the feeling of his forearms and thighs burning with the itch to cut them. He fought the thoughts for as long as he could until they won and he caved. He sulked to the bathroom and took the blade he had taped to the top of the cabinet that was under their sink. He sat down on the edge on the tub and exhaled as he drug the blade over the side of his thigh, watching in satisfaction as the drops of blood began to pool at the surface. His mouth turned into a little smile at the feeling he had forgotten he missed so much. He repeated the action three more times, leaving a total of four straight lines of lacerated skin. He relished in the euphoric feeling before the shame took over. He hadn’t done this since the night John had to take him to the hospital…John will be so disappointed. Sherlock accepted the feelings for what they were, and he ran a black washcloth under the warm tap of the tub and he cleaned the blood off his outer thigh until the bleeding came to a stop. He pulled on his loosest pair of pajama pants and grabbed John’s laptop from the living room before going back to his bedroom and propping himself against the headboard and booked their hotel for the next few nights.

Meanwhile at Tesco, John was placing a few items in his basket and thinking about how their night had changed so quickly. A strawberry blonde figure caught his attention. The memories of Sherlock tonight filled his head and he was overwhelmed with anger. He grabbed the last few things he needed and rushed to the checkout. When he pulled his dark jumper up closer to his mouth and put the hood up on his jacket. He set the few bags of groceries behind a corner and watched the Tesco door. Finally, he saw Victor come out and start to round the corner he was waiting beside. “fuck moral code” he thought to himself as he stuck his foot out and tripped the younger man. When Victor fell to the sidewalk John got on top of him and tangled his fist in his hair, pulling his head back before slamming it back down on the sidewalk. He gave him a hard, quick kick in the stomach before grabbing his groceries and running off, unnoticed. The adrenaline was pumping hard through John’s veins.

He and Sherlock both were addicts in their own respect and were in need of a fix. Two different kinds of fixes, but both that felt good in the moment and shame in the after. John held himself to a high standard, always dedicated to helping rather than hurting, but he couldn’t be the good doctor all the time. He had once head butted a member of Scotland yard for calling Sherlock a weirdo, if you ask him- he showed Victor mercy.

When he arrived back at Baker Street he put away the groceries and then found Sherlock in bed on his laptop. He fondly rolled his eyes before climbing into bed with his detective. Sherlock wrapped an arm around the doctor and kissed him temple. “better?” John asked cautiously. Sherlock nodded, “yes, I’m still…upset and pretty embarrassed but it is what it is.” Sherlock closed the laptop and turned off the lamp. The men cuddled close to one another, both holding their own secrets and shames.

Chapter Text

The morning seemed to arrive far too quickly for either of the men’s liking. When Sherlock’s alarm blared through their once silent bedroom, they groaned in a tired frustration that they needed to be at the tarmac before the sun came up. There was a strange ambience in the room, both men hyperaware of the secrets they were now keeping from one another. Normally when they woke up, they laid in each other’s arms, shared lazy kisses, and the occasional teasing touches until one or both of them came at the other hands. But this morning they only exchanged closed mouth smiles before they began getting ready for the day. Sherlock, who had become accustomed to dressing and undressing in front of John, went into the bathroom to get dressed to avoid John catching sight of the angry red lines that now marked his outer thigh.

When Sherlock finished getting ready John had already drug their luggage to the front room and was finding breakfast to eat in the cab. “Do you want a granola bar or a breakfast sandwich?” John asked, not looking at Sherlock.

“I’m not hungry.” Sherlock replied as he set his hanging clothes on top of their suitcases.

John sighed and shut a cabinet a little too hard, “well, that’s not what I asked is it?” he shot back, taking Sherlock by surprise.

“you’re in a bad mood this morning.” The detective noted, but before John could get angrier, he walked to the shorter man and took him into his arms. “what’s wrong? You’ve been off since you came back from Tesco last night.”

John sighed, he thought about lying but that usually never ended well when dealing with Sherlock. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m pretty worried about what’s going to happen in the next couple of days. I don’t want you getting lost, or hurt, or killed. I’m worried we will get separated from each other when we are down there and not be able to find one another.”

John’s confession pulled at Sherlock’s heart strings and he held his lover tighter, “It’s going to be fine. I trust the people we are meeting up with and I promise we won’t get separated in the tunnels.” Sherlock grabbed the sides of John’s face and planted a hard, chaste kiss on his mouth. “I’ll have a granola bar. Let’s go.”

They grabbed their luggage and loaded into the cab.

When they arrived at the tarmac Mycroft was waiting for them. The sun was barely beginning to show itself on the horizon. As they boarded Mycroft’s private plane the older Holmes brother held John back and reminded him of the promise he had made to look after his brother, as if it didn’t weigh heavily enough on the good doctor.

John took his seat next to Sherlock in the luxurious cabin. The last time Sherlock was on this plane was when Jim Moriarty announced his return to London. He smiled briefly at the memory before John took his hand and laced his fingers with his own and let them come to rest in his lap. “So besides find Emily, what else are we going to do while we are in Paris?” John asked, with a sense of expectation in his voice.

“we are here to work John; I hadn’t anticipated us doing anything else.” Sherlock said before he saw John’s facial expression drop ever so slightly “but, I guess we could do whatever you’d like after business is taken care of. Maybe we could even stay a few days extra….”

John’s mouth turned into a wide smile and he leaned over to kiss Sherlock’s jaw, “Let’s do that. Its been twenty years since I’ve been to France, I’d like to stay a few days.”

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes, trying to get a few minutes of sleep in during their short flight. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping much in the upcoming days. Just as he started to drift off John broke the silence again.

“So, you’re a goldfish now.” He stated, earning an appallingly confused look from the detective.

“what are you talking about?” the darker haired man questioned

John chuckled “last night, you told Greg to take Victor to dinner, show him around- you know things all the goldfish like. You like when I take you out, so you’re a goldfish now too.” The doctor was so proud of his statement, but Sherlock wasn’t amused, or at least he wouldn’t let anyone know if he was. “I’m going to sleep John. Wake me when we land.”

The flight from London to Paris was short and John and Sherlock were soon unloading their luggage at their hotel located in the 1st arrondissement. Sherlock spoke French with ease to the concierge who handed over their key card.

“I didn’t know you spoke French?” John said amused

“Only enough to get around, I’m not as fluent as I would like to be” Sherlock said opening the door for John to step into their suite.

The room was spacious yet cozy and inviting, it practically oozed with Parisian charm. The furnishings were simple and elegant. attached was a balcony complete with a small table and a view of the Eiffel tower. John smiled as he took in the scenery, running his hand over the pillowy soft duvet. He made his way to Sherlock who was concentrating on the screen of his mobile and covered the screen with his hand.

“John, I was looking at som- “Sherlock was cut short when John pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him tangling his fingers in Sherlock’s dark hair. John tossed his lovers phone onto one of the nearby chairs and walked Sherlock back to the bed before climbing on top him. One of his knees came to rest between Sherlock’s thighs and the detective couldn’t help but lean into the touch, moaning softly. They made out slowly, enjoying the moments they had to take in being with one another. When John’s hands began to not so subtly tug at the buttons on Sherlock’s white shirt the taller man reluctantly broke the kiss, “we do have things to get done today...” he trailed off and John sighed, rolling off of the detective. “later though.” Sherlock said with a wink and a final kiss to John’s lips.

Most of their day consisted of them wandering around the city and making various plans with members of Sherlock’s Parisian homeless network, informing them of their plan and how to keep in contact to make sure Victor and Greg stayed out of the way once they arrived. Later they had an in-depth meeting with the most highly recommended and knowledgeable cataphile, Billy Wiggins. Billy found himself homeless at 14 and took refuge in the catacombs, he was familiar with some of the most lucrative parts of the tunnels and knew places to avoid. Obviously, he hadn’t come across or been in contact with Emily, but with Sherlock’s knowledge of the case they were able to start eliminating sections she probably wasn’t in.

After dinner and a short walk through the nearby park, the two men retreated back to their hotel. Sherlock had been texting with Billy to set up a meeting time and location for later in the night. He knew two hours after John fell asleep, he would be unconscious enough for him to sneak out unnoticed. Sherlock never thought there would come a time when he would make this kind of effort to have John not accompany him on a case. In many ways this case wasn’t any more dangerous than some of the others they had been on, but the feeling was different. It very much felt like something Sherlock needed to do on his own almost as if he had to prove something to himself- John being kept safe was just a bonus.

It was rare the detective took baths since showers were more ecofriendly and efficient, but tonight he decided to fill the large jacuzzi tub with warm water and lavender bath salts. He slid into the water and inhaled the light scent that soon embraced him. He momentarily regretted adding the salts and bubbles as they stung against his healing cuts, but the feeling soon dulled, and they were once again forgotten.

John was sitting in one of the chairs by the window reading through comments on his blog when he heard the water of the tub finally stop. A sly smile crossed his lips as he formulated an idea in his head. He grabbed a small bag that contained his toothbrush and toothpaste and quietly made his way into the bathroom. He saw Sherlock’s dark curls resting on the edge of the porcelain white tub and bubbles, his eyes were closed, and his normally ivory skin was tinted pink from the hot water. He shut the door gently and Sherlock’s eyes opened, acknowledging his presence. “Mind if I brush my teeth?” John asked and Sherlock nodded, following John’s figure in the mirror. After the doctor had finished, he stood in front of Sherlock and began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, “you know, I was going to take a shower…” he trailed off watching as Sherlock’s gaze was fixed on his fingers moving down his shirt. “I, I can finish up… sorry, ill get out.” The detective stammered a bit and reached to open the drain of the tub when John caught his wrist. “no, stay. I was going to ask if I could join you?” he asked with a smirk, catching Sherlock off guard for a moment. The dark headed man nodded and continued watching his lover undress in front of him.

Sherlock rarely found himself mesmerized but lately It happened more often, and John was always the reason why. Sherlock loved admiring John but didn’t always get the chance to let his eyes linger as much as he would have liked when they were caught in the heat of the moment. But now there was nothing keeping him from admiring his lover. Even being out of army for several years, John kept the frame of a soldier. Sure, some of the once sinfully defined muscles had faded over time but his body was toned and magnificently sculpted. Sherlock often found himself admiring how broad John’s shoulders were compared to his own and always took advantage of running his hands over John’s torso when they were cuddling.

Sherlock was taken out of his thoughts when John placed a hand on his shoulder, “move forward.” For once the detective did what he was told, and John sat down behind him. “lay back.” John said opening his arms. Sherlock moved himself between John’s legs and leaned back, his head coming to rest on John’s collarbone. The taller man sighed contently and let his eyes fall shut again.

John kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and let his hands caress over Sherlock’s chest and torso lazily. The detective leaned into John’s touch as much as he could, yearning to be as close to his lover as he possibly could. After a few minutes Sherlock began to stir from his position. He moved to where he was sitting horizontally across John’s lap and John held him close. It was no secret John had a ‘thing’ for carrying and holding Sherlock, but the detective seldom got to enjoy it due to his internalized anxiety of him being too heavy for John to hold for more than a few moments. But here in the water, that fear was gone-drowned by sherlock’s knowledge that he was practically weightless in the tub. Here, in this moment, he was able to indulge both his and John’s desires.

Sherlock lifted his head and began kissing along John’s neck. When the kisses began to turn into gentle nips John broke the silence, “Careful where you put those things, I’m not as much of an exhibitionist as you are, baby.” He said teasingly and Sherlock smiled against the soft skin. The dark-haired man had no intentions of stopping but moved his efforts lower down John’s body where they could be concealed with ease.

When the water began to go cold, they washed one another and Sherlock managed to sway John to get out first so that he could dry off and put on his dressing gown without risking John seeing his thigh. When the taller man exited the bathroom, John was packing items into a backpack. Sherlock had his burgundy silk robe on and pressed himself to John’s bare back, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “what are you doing?” he asked curiously. “I decided to pack a bag with a few things for Emily, hoping she’s alive. I put some water and a few of those electrolyte packets, some granola bars, and a small first aid kit.” John sighed “it’s not much but it’s the best I could think of.” Sherlock smiled against the top of John’s shoulder, “I’m sure she will appreciate it. I wouldn’t have thought of it.”

The two climbed into bed and cuddled closely. Sherlock clung to John a little tighter tonight than most. When John’s soft snores filled the room, Sherlock began watching the time and monitoring John’s breathing for the best time to sneak out.

Back in London Lestrade had just finished a rather long day at the yard and had halfway invited himself to Victor’s house. Lestrade stood nervously at the door holding a bottle of scotch and knocked apprehensively. When Victor opened the door Greg nearly dropped the expensive liquid. “my god, what happened to you.” Lestrade said shocked as he took in the sight before him. One of Victor’s eyes was swollen but not bruised, he had cuts and deep scrapes across his face. Victor tried to smile but winced at the pain it brought, he stepped aside to welcome Greg in, “some lunatic attacked me as I came out of Tesco last night, slammed my head into the pavement a few times too.” Victor explained. Greg brought a gentle hand to the other man’s cheek and rubbed his thumb over one of the deeper cuts. “I otta choke the bastard” he whispered, “did they catch who it was?” Victor shook his head no and led Greg to the couch.

“what brings you over here? Did something show up about my sister?” he asked anxiously. “no, unfortunately not. We are still analyzing samples and investigating suspects. I actually just wanted to see you and maybe ask you something.” Lestrade spoke smoothly, piquing Victor’s attention. “Oh? Alright. Well, I’m always happy to see you. Sorry couldn’t come by the station today, I’ve been trying to tend to this” he said pointing to his face. “I figured something had happened when you didn’t drop by, but I’m sad to find out you were hurt.” Greg said as he poured the amber liquid into the glasses on the coffee table. “I’ll be alright, besides-you’re here now.” Victor said as he leaned over to kiss Lestrade, who closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. Sherlock’s warning played in the back of his head, but he continually tried to push it out. This was all for the case, it didn’t mean anything, he was just playing a part…or at least that’s what he tried to convince himself of.

Before Lestrade could slip his tongue into Victor’s mouth, the other man pulled back “so what did you want to ask me?” he said taking a sip of his drink. Greg cleared his throat, “I’ve got a few days off coming up and there isn’t much more I can do on your sisters’ case that my staff and Sherlock aren’t already doing. Anyway, I booked a trip to Paris a few months ago, just as a little getaway and was wondering if you would maybe want to tag along?” Lestrade fidgeted with his fingers slightly, nervous that he wasn’t convincing. Victor was taken aback but was soon on top of him, “yes, I’d love to.” Lestrade held Victor’s cheek, “really? You’re sure it’s not too soon, I mean we have only just really started getting to know one another…” Victor kissed him and mumbled, “I’m sure. When do we leave?” he asked. “tomorrow… sorry for the short notice but I just couldn’t get up the courage to ask you until tonight. I actually have my baggage in the car…I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I stayed the night.” Greg said with a shy smile and victor couldn’t hide the excitement that showed itself on his face. “yes, please stay. You can help me pack.” Victor removed himself off of the DI and extended his hand to him, leading him to his bedroom.

They spent the next hour or so drinking, kissing, making small talk about their lives and families while they packed Victor’s carry-on bag. The mood of the room quickly shifted when Victor opened a drawer by his nightstand, revealing condoms, lube, and an assortment of sex toys. There were a few different sized butt plugs, a string of anal beads, handcuffs, sounding rods, and a knife. Greg was visibly shocked, and it didn’t take Victor long to notice, “Don’t worry, I was only going to pack the lube and some condoms-unless you want some of the others.” He said with an almost sinister tone and Greg shook his head. Of course, the idea of having sex with Victor had crossed his mind but it really wasn’t something he had seriously considered a possibility until now.

“so, you’re not exactly…” Greg racked his brain searching for the correct word. “Vanilla?” Victor supplied and the DI nodded. “no, never have been. I don’t mind traditional sex but it’s not what excites me the most. I like things rough, more so than most people. Are you scared?” he asked, almost daring Lestrade to say yes. “No.” Greg replied coolly, “It doesn’t bother me at all. People like what they like, I don’t think it should have to be explained.” Victor nodded with a smile, “Are your curious about what all I have?” he asked. “I suppose so, but I’m not going to ask you to show them to me if you don’t want.” Greg reasoned. He genuinely was curious of what all sexual aids Victor had and what it may reveal about him, but he really hoped they were never used on him. “no, I don’t mind. Here..” Victor pulled open two more drawers revealing various items “feel free to look through them, pick them up, try them out if you like” he said with a wink that made Lestrade blush “I’m going to finish packing but feel free to ask me any questions you want. I’m not exactly shy about it.” He laughed.

Greg couldn’t fight his curiosity off any longer, he downed the rest of his scotch and began to look through the drawers. There was an assortment of items, but a dark black velvet box caught his eye. He opened up the box and saw a large, oddly shaped butt plug with a wire that extended from the base. There was cock ring and a set of nipples clamps that had the same kind of wire attached. “What are these?” he asked into the room. Victor walked out of his attached bathroom brushing his teeth, “what are what?” he mumbled through his toothpaste. “In this black velvet box” Lestrade said and Victor held up a finger, asking him to give him a moment. He spit into the sink and wiped his mouth on the towel before walking to where Greg stood by the cabinet. Victor smiles and took the plug out, “here wrap your hand around it.” Lestrade enclosed the object in his fist, not quite able to wrap his hand all the way around it. It was shaped like tiered squares, the corners rather sharp and defined. Greg could only imagine how unpleasant it was to have inside your body. “this set is one of my favorite things I own. I had it custom made my first year of university when I was dating s-…some bloke. “Victor pressed a button on the remote and Greg yelped and dropped the plug as an electric current shot through his hand. “damn, that hurt. You could have just told me what it did.” Greg reprimanded. Victor smiled, “it’s always better to experience. Plus, now I can spend all evening trying to make it up to you.” He said as he took Greg’s hand, he had just shocked and rested it on his ass that was only covered by his tight red briefs. Greg gave his ass a slight squeeze, “I feel bad for the guy who experienced that.” He laughed and Victor join in “he’s fine. plus, that was only the first level.” Greg’s eyes went wide, “how many levels are there? That, seriously, was painful.” Victor smirked, “ten. Now, let’s go to bed-I don’t want to be tired on our trip.” Greg shook his head and put the toys back before climbing into bed and wrapping his arms around Victor, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

As Sherlock lay in bed watching the clock over John’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but notice the minutes simultaneously seemed to drag and fly by. He wanted to soak up every minute he had to lay with John, but he wanted to get this case finished with.

When your mind is as active as Sherlock’s you can’t spend lingering moments counting sheep, you count doubts, insecurities, moments you wish you could change or have done differently. He began to worry if this could be the straw that broke the camel’s back for his and John’s relationship. Would John feel betrayed? Would he think Sherlock didn’t trust him or that their relationship had changed how they solved cases together? Worst of all, he had promised John he would never leave him again like he did when he faked his death. He promised he would never put him through something like that again. But what if he didn’t make it out of the tunnels alive…would John resent him even in death? These thoughts were all very valid and made the detective feel all the more guilty for leaving his lover behind.

John’s breathing pattern changed just past the two-hour mark. Sherlock slowly slid out of bed and quietly put his clothes from the previous day back on. He put the drawstring bag John had packed on and then put on his trench coat. He took his phone off charger, grabbed his flashlight and put several backup batteries in one of his coat pockets. As he walked towards the door, he fought himself not to look back at John’s sleeping figure, for fear that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to make himself leave. With one last deep breath he quietly left the hotel room and met the awaiting taxi to take him to a secret meeting spot in the 8th arrondissement.

The taxi dropped him off about one fourth mile away from the location he was meeting Billy. The entrance they were taking was an old water drain that now ran under one of the main roads and had a ladder that descended about 65 feet below street level, dropping them straight into the underground labyrinth. The rain had begun to pour halfway through his walk, making visibility limited. He reached the spot a few minutes before 3 AM, the agreed meeting time. He waited in the downpour, unable to locate the entrance on his own. A hand grabbed his shoulder and he jumped. “Aye, it’s just me.” The voice spoke, bringing his flashlight to shine on his face revealing only Billy. “Ready to go?” he asked, and Sherlock nodded.

They meticulously descended the ladder, careful not to slip on their wet shoes that pressed against the old thin metal bars. When they reached the bottom Billy marked their location on a highly advanced navigational system. This device would be their way of tracking where they had been and ultimately how to get back to an exit. They walked in silence for several minutes until Billy spoke out.

“Ya creeped out yet?”

“No. I don’t scare easily-besides it’s really no different than the metro stations. It’s just deeper underground and not as developed.”

“you seemed to scare when I met you up at the surface.”

“that was different.”

“How?”

“you touched me”

Billy furrowed his eyebrows, but it couldn’t be seen in the low lighting of the tunnels. Despite popular belief the catacombs are not entirely covered in skulls and bones, it’s largely just empty barren tunnels and rooms.

“should I call out for her?” Sherlock asked quietly.

“you can if you want, but I would advise against it. Gangs like to meet down here sometimes; we wouldn’t want to draw their attention or send them looking after her.” Billy replied.

Sherlock nodded and continued to shine his light into different caverns. Many of the walls were covered with artwork and graffiti, some of it true pieces of art, others gang signs and silly writings and riddles. They came to a fork in their path and Billy directed them to the right side. Not long down the trail and they were up to their ankles in water. Sherlock had worn his normal dress shoes, not anticipating these conditions.

“picked the wrong shoes, posh boy.” Billy teased “don’t feel too bad, there usually ain’t much water down here unless it’s raining hard- which it is now.”

Sherlock cringed at his improper grammar but let it slide. The water was cold as it was the beginning of December. The tunnels maintain a constant temperature year-round but water seeping in from the surface was an exception.

Hours had passed and the sun was shining through the pale yellow draped in the hotel room. John rolled over, extending his arm to throw over Sherlock but was disturbed to find the spot next to him empty. Groggy and still a bit dazed from his sleep he went to the bathroom, still not seeing Sherlock in their suite. The realization only hit him when he saw the bag, he had packed with supplies for Emily was gone and so was Sherlock’s coat. His blood ran cold as he stood shell shocked, staring at where the bag laid last night.

“DAMNIT” John yelled, smashing his fist on the table. Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to do? He took a few deep breaths as he quickly put on some clothes. He knew better than to go find an entrance to the catacombs and start looking. He almost began to call Lestrade but stopped, remembering he was probably with Victor. He cringed at the realization that his last two choices were to call Mycroft and face his wrath or wait and hope Sherlock was okay. He dialed Mycroft.

Almost mothing came of their conversation, of course Mycroft knew people in France-even a few of Sherlock’s homeless network, but not Billy Wiggins and Sherlock made sure to leave no trail. John couldn’t bear to wait in the hotel room any longer. He took a taxi to the 8th arrondissement and began walking to any and all entrances marked on a map one of the homeless networkers gave him yesterday. He wasn’t going to go down, but he needed to kill time, and this seemed like the best way to do it.

Victor and Lestrade landed in Paris around noon and decided to get a bite to eat on their way to the hotel. They sat in a booth by the window, holding hands and planning their trip. Soon after Greg excused himself to the bathroom victor caught sight of a familiar blondish silver head of hair. He froze in shock and his blood boiled in anger as he watched John walking around aimlessly. He knew Sherlock wasn’t with him and he could tell by looking at the ex-soldier he didn’t know where Sherlock was, but Victor knew the sly detective had cracked his code and was under the ground beneath them. He quickly got out his phone and texted an old buddy from university that now resided in Paris. He wasn’t as sick and evil as Victor, but he lacked a moral compass and there were very few things he wouldn’t do for either drugs or cash. To make things better, he had also known Sherlock when he and Victor were dating and had a vendetta against the detective ever since he humiliated him in one of their shared classes.

Long time no see. Sherlock Holmes is in the catacombs- he has to have someone showing him the way. Find where he is and get them separated. I don’t care what you have to do to either of them. $25,000 if you succeed. – Victor T.

Victor didn’t bother waiting for a reply, he knew it would be taken care of.

Hours had passed and Sherlock and Billy were trying yet another set of tunnels. Sherlock glanced at his phone for what seemed like the 100th time. Of course, there was no cell service but every time he checked he tried to imagine what John must be doing and how he was feeling. It was nearly 4 PM and he knew Greg and Victor would be in the city by now, he only hoped all was going according to plan when suddenly the sound of a gunshot rang through the tunnels. He and Billy both dropped to the ground when he felt a sharp prick stab deep into his shoulder and he could no longer fight to keep his eyes open.

When he awoke none of his stuff had been taken and he wasn’t injured…but Billy and the GPS were gone. His chest got tight and was nearing on a panic attack when he forced himself to breathe how John had taught him, and he squeezed his fist tight around the flashlight. He was lost and he knew it, there was no use in denying it. There was nothing in this maze of the dead that he could deduce to lead him back to the surface. He made the decision to continue looking for Emily and worry about their return later and if a few tears fell from his eyes no one but him would ever know.

Sherlock had been walking for hours, his feet were throbbing in pain and itching from the water they had treaded earlier. Overall, he was uncomfortable and tired- but most of all he was frustrated at the turn of events, knowing Victor had to have found out. The detective continued walking in the direction he and Billy had been headed but decided to forgo his warning not to yell…how much worse could things get.

“Emily!..Emily Trevor!” He yelled at the top of his lungs as he walked through the dark tunnels. His phone battery was beginning to drain from how often he had been checking the time, by now sun would be setting over Paris. He called out several more times before he heard something crinkle, it was a noise similar to the sound an empty water bottle makes when you crush it in your hands. Sherlock followed the direction the sound came from. It wasn’t long until his flashlight caught the color of a light pink blouse. The figure blocked the light with her hands. “Emily” Sherlock said barely above his breath. Her body looked frail and thin, her clothes and hair disheveled, and she was shaking almost violently.

“Emily, its okay. I’m here to help you. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Sherlock approached her cautiously. As her piercing green eyes adjusted to the light, she finally looked up at him, tears streaming down her face as she let out hoarse choked sobs. Sherlock set the flashlight down on its end so that the light shown up towards the ceiling, illuminating the small cavern. Sherlock knelt down beside her and held her gaze. There was so much pain and fear in her eyes, the same eyes that once held only compassion and carefree wonder were now reminiscent of his own eyes when he was with Victor.

“Emily… can you talk to me?” he asked, and she tried to speak but was too hoarse to make out a word, so she shook her head no.

“I’m going to help you.” He said calmly and she nodded.

It was only when he caught sight of a small makeup bag that he remembered the bag John had packed. He realized that without John he couldn’t only be Sherlock Holmes the great detective, he also had to honor John and fill the role of a caretaker. He shrugged off his coat and placed it over Emily, the dark heavy fabric engulfed her small frame. He rustled through the bag until he found one of the electrolyte packets and mixed it in a bottle of water. He held it in front of Emily but didn’t let her take it yet. “Emily, you have to drink this slowly. If you don’t, you will get sick, promise me you won’t guzzle it?” Emily nodded in response and she took small sips of the liquid.

As her tears began to slow Sherlock handed her one of the granola bars and sat down, propping himself against the same wall Emily was against. He kept his head down, only glancing at Emily every few minutes.

“Sherlock” a small raspy voice finally made itself known

The detectives head jerked up immediately, “you remember me…” he trailed off and Emily nodded trying her best to give him a faint smile. “are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” he inquired calmly as he began to pull the first aid kit from the bag.

“I’m not injured.” She said, “Do you have more water?”

Sherlock nodded, “yes, you need to wait a while before you drink anymore though.” She nodded in understanding, but her eyes pleaded for more of the liquid.

“Thank you.” She said looking into his ocean blue eyes that were nearly covered by his pupil.
“don’t thank me yet. My guide and I got attacked and we got separated, I’ve got no idea how to get us out of here. “he said very matter of factly, and he heard Emily actually huff out a breathy laugh.

“you never were one to give false hope.”

Sherlock’s lips quirked up, but he kept his head low, staring at the floor until he was taken by surprise when Emily scooted closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his. Sherlock flinched at the touch and their eyes met.

“I’m sorry, I…I’m just really cold. I should have known not to touch you” she rambled barely above a whisper and began to detach herself from the taller man.

Sherlock placed his hand over one of hers, “it’s fine.” ‘I’ll do whatever I can to help you. This isn’t about me.’ He said to himself …or at least he thought he had until Emily replied. “you’re selfless, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you never even tried to find me.”

Sherlock looked at her, eyes wide in surprise “you remember…you knew?”

Emily nodded, “I always knew. But I didn’t know what I could have done, I was so young. I’m sorry.”

“no. like you said you were young. I hold nothing against you.” He mumbled. “besides, all those times you bandaged my injuries and watched movies with me…you were already doing what I needed.”

Sherlock felt a wet spot forming on his shirt as Emily began to cry once more, “I am so sorry for what my brother did to you, I..I..I”

“Emily, stop. We don’t need to talk about that right now. This isn’t about him anymore, it’s about me and you. I want you to get some rest and then we are going to find a way out of here.” Sherlock said as he extended his legs, letting them come to rest on the cool ground.

“Lay down.”

“Sherlock, you don’t-I’m fine.”

Sherlock huffed a bit, knowing Emily needed to get a few hours of good rest in before they could start looking for a way out-who knows when the last time she had a decent sleep was. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, that were still draped in his coat, and moved her to where her head was resting on his thighs. It wasn’t long before her eyes began to close, and Sherlock began counting the minutes until he would wake her.

It was nearing one in the morning and John was sat at a pub. The place was booming with young couples drinking, older men watching sports and laughing over a few pints, but John sat alone drinking tea trying to stay awake. His leg was bouncing with anticipation and worry underneath the booth table. All day he had switched from being hurt and confused to pissed off but underneath it all was worry.

John practically felt his heart fall to his stomach when he spotted a Victor and Lestrade walk into the pub hand in hand. He moved a few booths back and pretended to read one of the menus. He could have been sick watching the two of them act like love drunk teenagers. Greg excused himself to the washroom a few short minutes later and John calculated that it was safe to send him a few texts.

Sherlock went into the catacombs without me, he should have been out by now. -JW

Greg felt his mobile buzz in his back pocket, he bit the inside of his lip as he read the message

Meet me here in about 20 minutes. Try not to worry. -GL

He typed and sent the message with his location attached. When he came back to the table Victor flashed his award-winning smile at him and the DI’s heart fluttered. They had just finished the drinks they ordered when Lestrade ran his hand up Victor’s thigh, “why don’t you head back to our room and I’ll be there in an hour or so, I want to pick up a few things for later.” Victor frowned and leaned in closer, “why can’t I come with you?” he was practically whining, making it hard for Lestrade to deny him. “because, what I’m going to get is a surprise for you.” He had the other man’s full attention now. Greg leaned to whisper into Victor’s ear, “and you’ll only find out what it is when I get back.” He nipped at Victor’s ear lobe and then placed his hand behind his head, pulling him into a lust fueled kiss. Victor moaned and got up from the booth, “hurry back to me.” And with that, he left.

Once John saw him get into a cab he moved across the pub and sat down with Greg.

“you got here quick.” Greg said surprised

“yeah, well it’s not a very far walk from one side of this pub to the other.” John tried to joke. “Brilliant performance, very convincing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually liked the guy.” John said with a knowing scowl.

Greg sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “John…”

“save it Greg. We have other things to focus on.”

“Sherlock should have been back by now?” Greg asked.

John nodded, “yeah, when we talked with Billy, they agreed they wouldn’t stay gone more than 16 hours, that if they hadn’t found her by then they would come back and try again the next day. He’s been gone almost a full day. The hotel cameras saw him leave at around 2:30 yesterday morning.”

“shit” Greg said in exasperation. “John, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, and I don’t want to say it, but I think we’re just gonna have to trust him and wait this one out. I say we give him another twelve hours and then we will notify the police.”

John was angered that there was nothing to do but wait. John Watson was always a man who took action, made the first move, he had been a leader on his high school rugby team, then in the army, in med school, and throughout his entire professional career. But now he had to sit back and hope that Sherlock would return soon.

They both stood up and Greg pulled him into a friendly hug, “it’s going to be alright. He’s Sherlock…he’s probably rescued Emily and they are on their way now.” Greg spoke trying to convince even himself.

Suddenly the televisions in the pub flashed with the local news channel logo and a bright red banner scanned across the screen, Dernières nouvelles: Explosion dans les catacombs….

Breaking News: Explosion in the Catacombs

Chapter Text

John and Lestrade stood still, eyes fixed on the screens above them. Greg tore his gaze away first, only to look at his friend. John’s expression was blank, but his eyes were glazed over- the way water pools on top of glass. The answer to their problem was no longer waiting and Greg knew it pointless to even still suggest it.

“John” he said placing a comforting hand on the good doctor’s shoulder “shit… I know you must be worried out of your mind right now, but we need to think of something fast alright.”

John couldn’t say anything, he barely managed to nod his head.

“Stay here for a few minutes and watch the news, figure out where the explosion was and let’s head near the street. We don’t even know if he was near that part, try to keep your head up. I’m gonna go deal with Victor and I’ll sneak away as soon I can, alright?” Lestrade mustered up his best brave face and voice of reason “don’t do anything stupid.” And with that the DI left.

John once again sat alone; a feeling of numbness seemed to have taken hold on his being. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t be scared, or angry. He just stared at the televisions in disbelief.

Under the city, Emily was fast asleep in Sherlock’s lap. The detective had drifted in and out of consciousness over the last hour but more often found himself thinking of how happy he would be to once again be in John’s arms. How he would never take for granted the small touches, the kisses, the pet names, and the warm embraces that John seemed to never run out of. He had come face to face with the world’s most dangerous criminals, but nothing scared him more than being out of his depth like he was now. Suddenly there was a sizzling noise, it continued for a few seconds. Sherlock began diving into his memory of noises that could sound similar-rattlesnakes, pressurized gasses, fireworks—explosives. The detective shook Emily’s shoulder roughly and called her name, there was no time to be gentle. She startled awake, “what, what is it?” Sherlock was quick to shush her and listened again. He stood up quickly and drug her to the back part of the small cavern they were in. He pressed her against the wall and let his body tower over hers. Emily was confused and visibly worried but didn’t dare say a word. In a split second there was a blinding flash of light, a deafening loud noise, and the smell of heat and flammable compounds filled the air. They both coughed, choking on the stagnant hot air. Above them some of the sediment begin to shake and Sherlock broadened his stance, “Cover your head!” Emily did as he asked, and he did the same. Rocks and large chunks of the ceiling crashed around them, parts of the walls cracked and crumbled.

When the environment around them stopped shaking Sherlock backed away from Emily slowly. His flashlight was still shining dimly at the front of the little crevice and they couldn’t hardly see one another. The only sound was the sharp ringing in their ears and the labored breathing shared between the two of them.

Sherlock swallowed hard trying to put moisture back into his mouth and throat, “are you alright?” he choked out and Emily nodded. “someone’s got it out for me, for us. We need to start moving now.”

He picked up his dying flashlight and put in his last fresh battery. When he could see again, he and Emily were both covered in the powdery fragments of the tunnels, black soot littered their skin. They were reminiscent of coal miners after a long day’s work. Sherlock gathered their bags, remembering to take the small one Emily had with her. “ we are going to walk in the direction of the blast.”

Emily shot a quick glance at him, “ are you crazy?! Normally you walk away from the things that tried to kill you!”

“this isn’t exactly normal though is it? Whoever set that bomb off had to enter down here from somewhere. Oh-do you even know where you are?” Sherlock asked

“not really, I know I’m in France but I was blindfolded after we left the airport. I’d say some kind of cave system.” Emily replied, beginning to follow Sherlock as he walked towards where the noise of the explosion came from.

“mmm, you’re in the catacombs.”

Emily chuffed out a laugh, “ever the dramatic… so do you want to know what happened or have you already figured it out?” she asked sincerely.

“I’d really like you to tell me, I think we’ve got a long walk ahead. I’ve pieced together segments of what probably happened but I’d like to hear it from you.” Sherlock spoke, glancing over to the shorter girl every now and then. “truthfully, the first thing I want to know is why. Why did he do this to you?”

Emily was quiet for a minute before she sighed, “I was going to talk to the police.” She trailed off and it took a strong willpower for Sherlock not to stop dead in his tracks. “talk to the police about what?” he asked cautiously.

“about the abuse. About what he did to me…and you.” Her voice trembled slightly.

Sherlock was stepping over rubble when he turned back to look at her, “to you? I didn’t know he ever hurt you, he always seemed so loving towards you.”

Emily fought with herself on whether to say what she wanted, but given their current situation there wasn’t much room for being delicate. “who do you think became your replacement after you left?” she couldn’t bring herself to look Sherlock in the eye, if he was even still looking at her. “ when you left he had no one to manipulate and abuse, all his friends left him- they refused to let him take his anger out on them. He needed someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t leave, and someone naive enough to not make a fuss out of it. I guess I was the next best thing to you. It started out him grabbing me a little too hard, jokingly hitting me with enough force to leave bruises…and it just grew and grew until I was lying to teachers, school nurses, my friends’ parents. I was lying to everyone, including myself. It was just easier to deny that he was abusive and make excuses for why I deserved it or that he didn’t mean to hit me that hard. He’s my brother and despite everything I love him and never wanted anything bad to happen to him. I’m sure you understand that, in a way.”

She paused for a moment, still trailing closely behind the detective. She saw him nod and took it as permission to continue “so a few weeks ago, I felt ready. I wanted him to get help, but also wanted something for myself. To this day I’m still not exactly sure what. Justice isn’t the right word for it. There is no justice for my situation.” She paused to think and Sherlock recounted how he said nearly those exact words to John after he told him that he had taken the case. “but I wanted him to have repercussions for the pain he had caused me. I invited him over to talk and wanted to give him the option to seek some kind of therapy or rehab, but also wanted him to confess to the police…obviously that didn’t go well. He told me that they wouldn’t believe me and even if they did it was so long ago and there was no proof. That’s when I told him I knew he had abused you too, in ways worse than he did me.”

“differently.” Sherlock interjected.

“what?”

“he abused you differently than he did me. Worse is a relative feeling, an emotion. Just because he never…assaulted you in the same manner he did me- that doesn’t mean you didn’t suffer as much as I did. Everything you feel is just as valid.” Sherlock meant every word of what he said and hoped Emily understood it came only from a place of good intensions.

“Sherlock…that’s very…kind but I couldn’t imagine the toll being raped over and over again would have on someone.”

“and I couldn’t imagine not even being ten years old and suffering the same physical blows I endured. It’s all relative.” He spoke with conviction and mild anger, the topic obviously a sensitive one.

“I see,” Emily said pulling his coat tighter around her “ anyway, when I told him I had known about what he did to you he threatened me. I was angry and unafraid. I told him I didn’t care what he thought would happen, that I had made my mind up. I even went as far as telling him if it came between me and him that you would testify in my favor. He switched his demeanor, apologized, and said he needed some time to think. He left as I was taking my dog out, held a knife to my throat and I followed him. He kept me at his apartment for a long time-I don’t even know how many days I’ve been missing. He brought me to Paris, blind folded me and guided me down here. He gave me some water and two cyanide pills as a form of mercy. They’re in the makeup bag still, I was hoping someone would find me before it came to that.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before Emily once again broke the silence. “I’ve kept up with you over the years… not very often, just a quick google search every now and then. I know you don’t work for a corporation, you’re not a cop, you don’t have any kind of obligation to take cases you don’t want. Why did you take mine?” there was a longing for answers and it was evident in her tone.

Sherlock scoffed, “ as usual I got myself involved in something before I knew all the details…by the time I did, it was too late.”

“oh” Emily said sounding disappointed and Sherlock took notice.

“but you deserved better. You shouldn’t suffer because your brother and I have history. You always took care of me. Thank you for that…doctor Emily.” Sherlock joked towards the end. Emily smiled, “well, not quite.” Sherlock looked towards her “ what?”

“I’m about to be in my last year of medical school.” Emily said proudly and Sherlock couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, “congratulations. I always knew you’d make a good doctor.”

“thank you. You look good by the way.”

Sherlock’s eyes shot to the side, sneaking a quick glance at her, “in what way?” although he knew exactly what she was referencing.

She sighed, “just like you’ve actually been taking care of yourself.”

“eating you mean.” His voice had turned sad in tone.

“well…yeah. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it was a while ago, but I’m sure-“

Sherlock cut her off, “it’s not been a while ago. I still try to starve myself every chance I get, just two nights ago I took a blade to my leg; if it wasn’t for John, I probably would have bled out a few months ago alone in my bathtub.” The detective surprised even himself with the amount of personal information that had just rolled off his tongue.

“I understand. When I got to high school, I put myself in therapy, I never told them what had happened- only treated the side effects from it. All these years later and I still go to therapy…everyone’s different but it works for me. I used to flinch or shy away when people would go to touch me. I lived in fear that everyone was ready to hit or kick me. I couldn’t date throughout high school or undergrad because I was unable to make any kind of physical connection with people. I couldn’t hug anyone for years, not friends, not my parents, but slowly things have changed…I’ve gotten better. You experienced some of the same things, haven’t you?” Emily was trying hard to connect with him but all he did was nod.

“ watch your step.” Sherlock said as he awkwardly moved his body over a gap in the ground

Emily smiled to herself and her voice rang with a playful tone, “so…who’s John?” she wanted so badly to teasingly poke the detective, but leaned on the side of caution not to. Their previous relationship had been filled with banter and sarcasm, but they had both changed. While Emily was still playful, she was unsure if Sherlock still possessed those qualities.

His lips quirked up in a smile, “my colleague, best friend…my boyfriend.” As soon as he completed that statement Emily was clinging to his arm making a “aww” noise. Sherlock’s smile could only grow wider as he looked down at her.

“Sherlock, I’m so happy for you! Tell me about him!” she paused and stuttered “I mean, if you want to. Sorry.”

“ it’s fine. He’s undoubtably the best man I’ve ever met. He was a soldier, an army doctor-but when he got injured, he came back to London. He was looking for a place to live and I had a vacancy. I fell in love with him the first night we were out on a case together. He is unbelievably kind and understanding towards everyone, but especially to me- I don’t know how he puts up with me. We didn’t get together until a few months ago, but without a doubt he is the best thing to ever happen to me.” The fondness in his voice was almost tangible.

“and he saved your life a few weeks ago?” she asked, referencing his previous bathtub comment.

“so many times, and in so many ways.” Sherlock was about to continue when he heard the sounds of sirens. Emily was still clinging to his arm, he reached to grab her hand and they began moving quicker, following the sounds. They ended in a large open room, one with the walls were made of bones and skulls. They were both breathing hard and tired.

“can we rest a minute, please?” Emily said, already sinking to the floor.

Sherlock nodded and sat down next to her.

“do you have any water left?” she asked hopeful

“yeah, one bottle.” He dug through the bag and handed it to her, along with the last granola bar “here.”

She took a small sip and handed it back to him, “you should drink some too.”

He started to shake his head and insist he was fine, but Emily was also breaking apart the cereal bar, “and eat.” She added on.

He took a sip of water but refused the bar.

“Sherlock Holmes, that shit doesn’t work on me. Eat the damn bar.” She said only half joking. Her phrasing reminded him of John. “so how is he in bed.” She asked suddenly and Sherlock nearly choked on the food.

“excuse me?”

“sorry, that was crude and none of my concern.” She said apologetically.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Sherlock motioned for them to continue moving. They had walked about half a mile more, “I wouldn’t know.” He said and Emily looked up at him confused. “ I wouldn’t really know how John is in bed. I’ve not been with anyone since your brother. If It wasn’t for him, I’d probably still be a virgin.” Sherlock’s voice carried a sad and resentful tone.

“Sherlock…you don’t have to tell me anything. I shouldn’t have said what I did. But I am eternally sorry for what my brother did to you. I’m sure it has left you with a lot to heal from. Does that matter to you? Your virginity I mean?” she approached the question delicately and avoided eye contact with the tall man.

“I don’t know. I’ve always said the concept of virginity is a social construct, that there really isn’t anything sacred about it unless you create it. But that’s what I think, not what I feel. I feel like something was robbed from me. And now I feel like it’s been taken from John too. I’ve never been one for rose petals on the bed, but a moment like that with someone you love…I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hold an appeal. I wish my first time I hadn’t been held down so hard I was left with bruises and tearing. And all the times after that.” Tears pricked the back of his eyes, but he didn’t dare let one fall. Emily nodded in understanding. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“because I get it. We were deeply hurt by the same person; it connects us in ways even the best therapists can’t crack. I’m not much, and if after we get out of here you never want to see me again, I understand; but I’m always here for you, I always have been.” She smiled at him and reached to take his hand once more when something grabbed her from a tunnel that branched off. Emily let out a blood curdling scream and Sherlock was quick to throw punches. The man dropped to the ground and held up his hands, “Arrêtez! Stop! Recherche et sauvetage Paris! Paris search and rescue.” The man yelled as he protected his face from Sherlock’s blows that came to an abrupt stop. The detective extended his hand and helped the man to his feet.

“do you need medical attention, there was an explosion down here a few hours ago.” He explained in a very professional manner.

“yeah we know. Not from the explosion, but this is Emily Trevor she’s been missing for almost two weeks, kidnapped, from London. She needs to be examined.” Sherlock told the young man, who had taken Emily by the arm and was leading them down the tunnel he came from.

John had followed the news reports to the location on ground level where the explosion had broken through the pavement. The streets were closed off, ambulances were helping patrons that had been in the pub nearby. He stood watching as a scene from a movie seemed to unfold in front of him. He had offered to help but was informed it wasn’t needed.

Then, the next several seconds of his life seemed to unfold in slow motion. A girl wearing a long coat that resembled Sherlock’s was being lifted from a hole in the ground. John held his breath and strained his eyes to look for something that might not even happen. But then it did. Sherlock climbed out of the opening in the ground. His once pristine white shirt was covered in dirt and residue and several of the buttons were missing, his pants had tears in them, his hair was wet with rain and sweat-stuck to his face in all directions, his face had streaks of grey and black and dark red blood stains…and it was the best thing John had ever seen.

John pushed through the crowd calling out for his lover. When Sherlock finally heard his name and he turned to look, John had already wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. The doctor grabbed the sides of his face, tears now falling from both of their eyes. “god, you’re so stupid” John sobbed before kissing him hard “you’re such an idiot.” He cried again. “I know” Sherlock mumbled against his lips. John replied by kissing him even harder. Sherlock let him, he held him in his arms with just as much conviction and kissed him with every bit as much relief and passion. When John finally pulled his mouth off his lovers, he let his head come to rest on his shoulder. The scene around them looked like the end of the world, but with the emotions between the two men- it felt like the beginning.

Emily sat on the back end of an ambulance, an orange blanket wrapped around her, as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. She smiled as she watched the two reunite, the raw and genuine emotion evident.

John and Sherlock were interrupted when the young man that found them approached Sherlock. “we are about to take Miss Trevor to the hospital; would you like to accompany her?” he asked, and John’s eyes went wide. “you found her?! Of course, you found her!” he said in excited disbelief as he pulled his boyfriend into another hug. “yes, I’ll go with her.” He replied and the young man handed the pair off to the paramedics. John and Sherlock sat hand in hand in the back of the ambulance. Emily let her eyes close on the drive over, obviously exhausted.

Inside the hospital Sherlock spoke with the local police and advised them and the hospital staff to have security present at Emily’s room for the next few days. John insisted on him getting an exam as well. Luckily, he was fine, and they told him he could be on his way after they gave him some IV fluids and some strong ibuprofen.

A Parisian officer came into the room while Sherlock was watching the steadily drip of the IV line. He asked Sherlock for the details of how and why he knew Emily was down there and that he wanted to collect any and all evidence that was found. He explained that the case originated in London and gave the officer all the details, surprisingly without berating the man. Sherlock informed him that Scotland Yard had already claimed the case and that DI Lestrade was actually in the city undercover with the suspect. He gave the officer the address of Greg and Victor’s hotel and a team was sent over immediately.

Greg and Victor lay pressed against one another, basking in the afterglow of their second fuck of the night when a hard knock rapt on the door. They both quickly put some boxers on and Lestrade opened the entrance to the room. Officers came in and detained them both, but quickly releasing Lestrade after showing his ID and badge. Victor rambled for words and tried to fight the officers to no avail. Lestrade watched with tears brimming his eyes as Victor was taken away. It was for the best.

Lestrade made his way to the hospital and entered Sherlock’s private room. “posh git.” He thought to himself. When he pulled back the curtain Sherlock was fast asleep, his head resting on John’s shoulder who was in the small bed next to him. The good doctor looked up at Lestrade and gave him a closed mouth smile. “clever bastard.” Greg chuckled and John quietly laughed in response as he ran his hands through the detective’s dirty, dark curls. “yeah, he is.” John agreed. Lestrade explained what had happened with Victor, the pain in his voice was prominent but John couldn’t help but smile.

“is Emily nearby?” he asked, and John nodded.

“she’s a few rooms down to the left, but she’s resting right now. They think she will make a full recovery in a few days. We are going to go back to the hotel when the IV finishes and come see her tomorrow.

They said quick goodbyes and Greg left the room with only his broken heart.

Chapter Text

When Sherlock was released from the hospital John guided his tired body into the cab. The sun was beginning to rise over the city just as they arrived at the hotel. John was practically supporting Sherlock’s body with his own. The positioning was awkward and after only a few steps he picked up his lover and carried him the rest of the way to their room. Sherlock had been quiet ever since he had woken up and it was hard to tell if it was from exhaustion or because he was still searching for the right things to say.

“let’s shower. Then we both need to rest.” John stated as he set his boyfriend down on the bathroom counter so that he could adjust the shower tap. John began unbuttoning the buttons that remained on Sherlock’s shirt and slid it off his shoulders, kissing the skin that revealed itself as the fabric slid off. Sherlock’s skin was an array of shades of grey and purple bruises, but where his shirt covered his torso was still the same ivory color John was accustomed to. He helped Sherlock off of the counter and let him remove his trousers and pants as he undressed himself.

Sherlock faced away from John and tears escaped his eyes. He made his way under the hot steam and trickle of the shower water. He inhaled deeply and thanked a higher power that the water could hide his tears.

John gathered a washcloth and Sherlock’s overpriced shower gel and shampoo from his bag before joining him in the shower. He ran the bar of hotel soap over the white cloth and began to gently wipe away the soot that littered his boyfriends face. He washed the dark curls and grimaced as his fingers brushed a cut that made Sherlock flinch in pain.

Sherlock placed his hands gently on John’s’ shoulders and turned him so that his back aligned with the detective’s front. Sherlock replayed the favor, washing the short silver blonde hair and running the soapy cloth over John’s lightly tanned skin. He bent down slightly and begin trailing kisses along John’s neck. The doctor couldn’t help but notice Sherlock’s breathing seemed heavier than normal but chose to ignore it until the detective let out a choked sob against the nape of his neck.

John pulled away slightly and brought a hand up to Sherlock’s cheek. He still didn’t say anything, just watched as those beautiful blue eyes welled with tears that soon spilled over. Sherlock stared into his eyes with a longing, an emptiness, stare that conveyed the same feeling you get when you want to say something so badly but opt not to. John kissed him quick and soft as he turned off the water and grabbed two towels from the warming rack.

When they got into bed, neither of them could sleep. They couldn’t ignore the tension in the room. Sherlock was no longer crying and finally broke the silence, “are you angry with me?” he asked, his voice trembling. He couldn’t bear to turn over and look at the man lying next to him.

The question caught John off guard in the moment, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. “oh God yes, Sherlock.” He let his response linger in the space between them. “but we don’t need to have that conversation right now. What matters the most to me now is that you are safe and back with me.” John’s voice had shifted from harsh to understanding as the sentence unfolded.

Sherlock turned and lay half of his body on top of John’s, “I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry. I am. I never meant to hurt you- I never mean to.” Sherlock’s tears landed on John’s bare chest and the shorter man couldn’t help but hold him close, wrapping his arms around him and running his fingers through his still damp hair.

“I know, baby.” John said and Sherlock let out another sob at the pet name. “we will have plenty of time to talk about this when we’ve both had some sleep.”

“I was so scared. I thought I may never see you again. That I would have broken my promise to you that I wouldn’t leave you again. I tried to be so careful, but things didn’t go according to plan and…and” Sherlock was quickly getting overwhelmed and John flipped him onto his back, letting himself hover over the taller man.

“Sherlock. Listen to me. You need to calm down, before you work yourself into some kind of panic attack.” He kissed him, long and slow. Their lips gliding against one another’s like silk on smooth skin. Sherlock’s breathing slowly returned to normal and the tears stopped falling from his eyes. “ The only reason I didn’t take you is because. It felt like something I needed to do myself. You always do so much for me, even if you don’t realize it. You’ve helped me in ways I never thought possible over the course of our relationship, and I just… I needed to do this for me. To prove to myself I could beat victor at something.”

John lay back down beside Sherlock, stroking his face “why couldn’t you have just told me that? Why did you leave me to worry?”

“ I thought you would follow me anyway or put up a fight…I don’t know.”

“Sherlock… love, when has there ever been a time that I haven’t fully supported and respected your decisions when it comes to something you care so deeply about?”

Sherlock arbitrarily thought for a moment, “there hasn’t. it was a fear I created for myself and put onto you. I just wanted you safe too, this was one of the most intimidating things I’ve ever done. Truthfully if that explosion hadn’t happened, I don’t think we would have found our way out… and that terrified me the most. Dying and you being left with no answers yet again. I’m sorry I projected my lack of faith in myself onto you.”

John kissed him lightly, “I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed off about it.”

Sherlock chuckled lightly and wrapped his body around John’s, falling asleep.

There had been no alarm set, given the sleep schedule was already messed up. When Sherlock opened his eyes, the clock was flashing two in the afternoon. John was still asleep, and the detective watched him fondly for a few moments. A wicked grin came across his face as he began to sink slowly under the duvet. John’s long thick cock was resting against his tanned thigh and Sherlock bit his lip as his mouth watered at the sight. He let his head come to rest on John’s hip and licked his lips until they were glistening with anticipation. He cupped his hand at the base of John’s penis and took the dark pink tip into his mouth. He sucked and licked slowly and with caution at first, but as the deep pit of arousal formed low in his belly, he began to bob his head up and down with enthusiasm. John began to stir awake, initially thinking he was having an incredibly realistic dream-but this was real. John moaned in his deep morning voice, “mmm Sherlock. What are you doing...” he trailed off and he moved the covers to the side to watch his boyfriend. Sherlock pulled off of his cock with a small popping sound, “I promised you a ‘later’ a few days didn’t I?” he asked and John nodded remembering when they first arrived at the room “ I always make good on my promises.” He said taking John’s cock back into his mouth. He gently tugged and rolled John’s balls in his hands as he felt John’s growing cock hit the back of his throat. He turned his attention to licking just under John’s glands, eliciting an incredibly erotic response from the shorter man “oh fuck…Sherlock, don’t stop please.” The detective smirked, he had no intentions of stopping anytime soon.

John’s hands were clenching the white sheets beneath him, he was getting too close and wasn’t ready for this to be over. Just as he was about to beg Sherlock to give that sensitive spot a rest, the detective seemed to read his mind and move his efforts even lower. John watched as the dark curls sank lower between his strong thighs and gasped loudly as he felt Sherlock take one of his balls into his hot, velvety mouth. Sherlock had never done this before, and John had never experienced it until now. Sherlock looked up at him through those beautiful dark lashes and John let out a throaty groan. John cupped his hand under Sherlock’s jaw and brought him up for a passionate kiss. Sherlock kissed his way down John’s toned body, letting his tongue trace over some of the more defined muscles and suck gently on his nipples for just a moment.

When Sherlock took John back into his mouth, he focused his efforts on swallowing him down completely. The last time he deepthroated him was several days ago in the shower. He took John’s cock into his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. He repeated this several times until it made him gag. At first he blushed, feeling self-conscious of the sound that he had made; but one quick look to John told him he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. In fact- he was even more turned on. The flushed tip was beading with precum and Sherlock lapped at it as if it was the best thing he would ever taste.

Sherlocked adjusted his position slightly higher on the bed and looked up at John, his eyes still watering from gagging. He was stroking the doctor’s cock in a steady rhythm. John thought he could have came then and there just looking at the detective, but nothing prepared him for what Sherlock said next.

“John, will you fuck my mouth…please.”

John threw his head back against the pillow, “oh my god… come here you gorgeous thing.” Sherlock crawled up and hovered over John who brought him into a hard, sloppy kiss. Before John could ask if Sherlock was okay and sure about that the detective interjected “I’m fine. please, put you cock down my throat.” And with that he sunk back down, once again taking as much of John as he could. After a few more tries John finally pushed his hips upwards as Sherlock came down and felt his cock push past his mouth and into his porn worthy long throat. Sherlock gagged again but didn’t remove himself off of John’s length. John gently rolled his hips at a steady pace, watching himself disappear in Sherlock’s mouth. He made sure not to thrust too hard or hold his lovers head down out of pure animalistic desire. After several minutes Sherlock pulled off and caught up on his breathing as he stroked John once more in his hand.

“you are incredible, baby.” John praised him and he smiled. “you’re so fucking hot.” He continued, pulling Sherlock into another kiss. Sherlock threw one of his long legs over John’s’ hips and began grinding his ass on John’s’ wet cock, his own leaking pre-come onto the doctor’s lower abdomen.

Sherlock had thought about this for a long time. He reached a hand behind him, taking hold of John’s cock and lined it up with his entrance. John wrapped his strong hands under Sherlock’s thighs quickly and prevented him from sinking down, “whoa, whoa, whoa- what are you doing, love?” he asked, a look of concern taking over his face. Sherlock leaned down further and between kisses said, “I’m ready. I want to have sex with you, John.” He continued kissing him and frotting against his lover, desperate for friction “I’m ready. Please, I want you.”

John looked up at him, staring, it was like an unspoken reassurance that Sherlock really was ready. The doctor held his lover close and placed a hand on the side of Sherlock’s face, bringing him closer into a lingering kiss, “will you still be ready this evening?” it was obvious the question took Sherlock by surprised, “what? I assume I would, but why not now?” he asked impatiently in typical Sherlock form. “I want this to be special for you, sweetheart.” John said softly as he stroked the side of Sherlock’s face with his thumb. Sherlock opened his mouth to argue but John cut him off, “ I want our first time together to be special, not some quick roll around in the sheets.” John said gently with another kiss to the detective’s lips. “ and Sherlock…” John waited for the tall man to meet his gaze, John held him tight against him, “certainly not without letting me open you up with my fingers and tongue. You can’t just take me in your tight little hole without anything first, baby.” Sherlock blushed in embarrassment; in the heat of the moment he had forgotten all about preparing himself to be able to take in John’s considerable length. He softly nodded his head and adjusted his body so that their cocks lined up with one another. He wrapped his hand around the both of them and began to stroke them against each other. He and John both moaned, slipping back into their aroused states. They were both getting close to their climax. John’s breathing was getting faster and his toes were curling in pleasure, “sher…love, I’m close.” He panted and Sherlock hummed in response, kissing the doctor’s neck as he stroked them faster. Soon John was coming and it was dripping down Sherlock’s fingers onto his own stomach as Sherlock came with a loud moan, his come landing with John’s.

He climbed off of John and laid on his side, curled up close to him. John watched in amusement as Sherlock took his fingers into his mouth one at a time and cleaned their come off of them. “you don’t have to do that, you know? I can get a towel.” John said but made no effort to move. Sherlock’s cheeks flushed red once more, “I know, I just…like it.” Sherlock hesitated “does it bother you?” he asked shyly. John was quick to shake his head, “no, quite the opposite actually. I’ve not been with anyone whose genuinely liked that kind of thing, but watching you swallow my come in any way is extremely hot, baby.” Sherlock held John tighter against him and placed his head on his chest. John looked at the ropes and drops of seamen on his torso and hesitantly ran the tip on his finger through it. Sherlock watched with interest as John brought that finger to his mouth. Sherlock opened his mouth and took the digit in without a second thought, licking off the mixture of him and John. They repeated this a few more times until John’s skin was clean. “if I wasn’t so old and hadn’t come so hard, I could go again just from watching you do that.” John said, before they both broke into soft laughter.

The two laid in bed holding one another for a little while longer before deciding to make the most of what was left of the day. Their first stop was to check on Emily. They walked into the hospital confidently, fingers intertwined. When they arrived outside of Emily’s door John hesitated, “should you go in first? I mean, she doesn’t know me-what if she doesn’t want to see people yet.” John said with unnecessary worry in his voice. Sherlock cupped his face and kissed him sweetly, “ it will be fine, she was in good spirits even last night.” Sherlock reassured him and led him into the room.

Emily was propped up in the small bed, her attention was directed to the tv mounted on the wall and she was eating small bites of what appeared to be pudding. She still had an IV attached but she had been cleaned up and appeared much less pale than last night. Emily smiled when she saw Sherlock’s tall figure enter the room, “hey, I was wondering if you were going to stop by.” She said pulling her knees close to her chest, making room for Sherlock to sit at the end of the bed. Sherlock gave her a small smile and took a seat while John lingered near entryway of the room. “how are you feeling?” Sherlock asked placing a hand on her knee. “ better than I have in a while.” She joked “but really, I’m feeling fine. I’m still pretty tired but other than that I’m good. What about you?” Sherlock just nodded not answering her question.

Emily’s eyes darted in the direction of where John stood and a smile crept across her face, “Sherlock…are you going to introduce us?” she asked teasingly. “oh right” Sherlock spoke in a mildly surprised tone, “um John this is Emily” he said as he extended his hand asking John to walk closer “ Emily, this is John- my boyfriend.” John couldn’t hide the smile that formed when he heard Sherlock introduce him like that for the first time. Emily held out her hand and shook John’s politely, “ Sherlock talked about you quite a bit during our little journey.” Emily said fondly. “ oh, only good things I hope.” John replied and Emily nodded. “Sherlock, would you mind going down to the cafeteria and grabbing me a sandwich and maybe something to drink? Im still pretty hungry.” Emily asked as she set her empty pudding aside.

Sherlock left and she and John shared a few moments of mildly uncomfortable silence before Emily finally spoke up. “you’re good for him.” She stated plainly. John smiled towards the floor. “not to mention he’s completely in love with you.
I don’t know how much you know about me or how I know Sherlock or even the circumstances surrounding the situation, but I used to know him very well. I’m glad you found each other.” She smiled at John and he stepped closer to her bed. “may I?” he asked before Emily nodded in approval for him to sit on the end of the bed. “thank you, it means a lot to hear you say that. Sherlock talks about you very fondly. I know about your brother and Sherlock and the… abuse. I’m glad you’re okay, by the way. Sherlock and I haven’t gotten to talk much about the case yet, was it Victor who took you?” John asked as he observed the different machines monitoring Emily’s vitals. Emily nodded, a sad expression taking over her face- John noticed and quickly changed the topic. “it’s a bit strange being in a hospital and not the one tending to patients.” He said attempting to hold conversation until Sherlock returned. Emily looked up quickly, “are you a doctor?”

“I am, I work over at Barts back in London.” He replied.

“ I’m getting ready to enter my last year of medical school.”

“that’s fantastic, congratulations.” John hesitated a moment before clearing his throat and quickly looking around the room. “listen, Emily, I know we just met but I want to say this now in case I don’t have to opportunity to at a later time. And I’d prefer if Sherlock didn’t know I said this either.” He laughed and Emily nodded but kept an attentive look on her face. “I want to thank you. I want to thank you for how you cared for Sherlock back then, but most importantly for what you’ve done for him recently. I’m ashamed to say it now, but I didn’t want him to take this case. I didn’t care if you were never found if it meant he didn’t have to relive and replay some of the emotions he’s had to in the past few weeks. He always told me you shouldn’t pay the consequences for your brothers’ actions. Your case has given him some of the most difficult moments but also some of the best. You gave him something to fight for, and in that fight, he has had many victories over things that may have haunted him forever. Thank you for being a person worth fighting for.” John was finishing as tears glazed over Emily’s eyes “ and if you still need a place to do your residency, I would be honored to have you work alongside of me at Barts.”

Emily gasped quietly and quickly brushed away a tear that fell down her cheek. She thanked John for his kind words and for the incredible opportunity that she would gladly accept. Before they could say much more Sherlock returned with her food and drink. He noticed the strange tension in the room and looked back and forth between Emily and John but decided to not mention it. “if you don’t need anything else, I think we are going to try to see a bit of the city this evening before the sun sets.” Sherlock said letting an arm drape over John’s shoulders.

Emily shook her head and swallowed a bite of her sandwich, “ no, im alright. Go enjoy yourselves! And thank you for stopping by to check on me. Oh and thank Mycroft for me for the private room. I know this couldn’t have been easy to arrange…or cheap.”

Sherlocked huffed a small laugh, “I’ll come back tomorrow too.”

John stood from the bed and took Sherlock’s hand, “ see you tomorrow, it was nice meeting you.” He said with a grin as Sherlock began to lead him out of the room.
John squeezed Sherlock’s hand and leaned in close when he felt Sherlock tighten his grip back in response. “ where do you want to go? We don’t have much time before it gets dark.” Sherlock baritone voice was amplified by the hospital hallways. “well actually, I’ve made some plans for us. We have dinner reservations near the Eiffel tower, let’s go there and by the time we finish up it will be time for supper.” John replied. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, “ when did you make us reservations and not tell me about it?”

“Earlier today when you were getting ready.”

“am I dressed appropriately?” Sherlock asked concerned causing John to laugh quietly.

“yes, you look beautiful- as always.” He stood on his toes and kissed him as they stood on the sidewalk waiting for a cab.

The cab dropped them off near the Eiffel tower. John was thankful he brought his heavier jacket as the cool breeze whisked past them. They took a few pictures of the landmark itself, a few with them in it, Sherlock even politely asked another couple to take their picture on the lawn in front of it. Just as the lady was taking the last few photos John perched up to peck Sherlock on the cheek, making him blush and the young couple giggle. They purchased tickets to go up to the top balcony, thankful they were in the city at an odd time so there were very few tourist.

After their short sightseeing they went to a quaint little place less than a half mile from the tower. It was nice but not over the top. John’s behavior grew increasingly more chivalrous and Sherlock grew increasingly nervous. He knew this was probably a build up to what he offered to happen later tonight…he wanted it still, god knows he wanted it, but a quick fuck this morning would have spared him the traffic of emotions.

John paid the bill and began pulling conversation topics out of thin air in attempts to keep the mood light, but Sherlock could only nod as he listened to bits a pieces. The walk back to their hotel was quiet, neither one of them able to fabricate any more conversation. As they approached their door John felt self-conscious knowing what awaited on the other side. Sherlock scanned the key card and they stepped inside and Sherlock’s eyes dilated. Tea light candles were placed around the room, a small bottle of what he knew to be high quality lube was placed on the bedside table along with a few condoms. There was a small white envelope with his name on it, carefully written in John’s best handwriting. John cleared his throat, “Sherlock…I’m sorry maybe this was too much and we don’t have to-” John’s stammered and unneeded apology was cut off by Sherlock grabbing him by the front of his shirt and kissing him passionately. “thank you” Sherlock whispered, breaking away from the kiss and leaning to kiss from John’s shoulder, up his neck to his ear, “take me, please.” John made a low moan and pulled Sherlock back to his mouth.

They began undressing one another and as the layers came off their nerves melted away. Sherlock started to sink to his knees and take John out of his pants before he was stopped. “not tonight baby or else it will be over before we even start. Besides, tonight is about you.” John murmured before kissing Sherlock’s bare shoulder. The detective shook his head, “about us.” John smiled shyly and repeated “us.”

John sat back on the bed and watched Sherlock in awe as he laid himself over his lap, his naked bottom facing towards John as his cock brushed against the middle of John’s thighs. This had become their favorite way to lay for John to finger his partner. Unlike times before, John was consciously trying not to touch Sherlock’s prostate too much, wanting to leave him wanting and sensitive for later. John spoke affirming words and compliments as he worked two fingers in and out of Sherlock. Sherlock shuttered every time John hit that little bundle of nerves in him, his cock leaking onto John beneath him.

“I’m going to add a third, tell me if it’s too much.” John said as he lovingly ran his other hand along Sherlock side.

Sherlock nodded, knowing that John had only fingered him with two before. He felt John add a third digit and inhaled deeply as it stretched him even further. It didn’t hurt, it was just added pressure that soon turned back to pleasure. John continued a few minutes longer before leaning over to press a kiss to the small of Sherlock’s back and withdrawing his fingers. “how do you feel, baby?”

“ready” Sherlock sighed breathily.

John smiled even though Sherlock couldn’t see him and lifted Sherlock lower body off his lap. The detective moved up the bed and positioned himself on all fours. John shook his head and repositioned Sherlock onto his back as he peppered kisses over his body. “no darling, I want to see you.” He spoke softly as he laid his lover down. John kissed Sherlock’s neck, making sure to leave a small mark. He gently sucked each of his nipples and trailed his hands down Sherlock frame. The foil packets on the bedside caught his attention at the last second. “ do you want me to wear a condom? I know your clean I saw your test at the hospital, I am too.” John said, managing not to break the mood. Sherlock shook his head slightly, “ if we are both clean what the point?” he asked redundantly. Before John could interject Sherlock spoke up, “ I don’t care about the clean up afterwards. I just want to feel you.”

John moaned and kissed him once more, applying lube to his length and sliding it along the rim of Sherlock’s entrance. “ready?” he asked, and Sherlock nodded looking deep into John’s eyes. John slowly pressed against the pucker and Sherlock took a deep breath as it breached the ring. John was steadily sliding to into Sherlock’s heat. “mmmm Sherlock” he moaned as he reached the end of his length, bottoming out in his lover. Sherlock released the breath he forgot he had been holding, “John.” He sighed. John stayed still inside him, letting his body adjust to his considerable length. “you’re incredible, baby. So gorgeous.” He complimented and watched as Sherlock bit his lip. “move a bit, please.” Sherlock whispered and John began to move his hips back until he was almost out of Sherlock before rolling them forwards once again. He couldn’t help but moan Sherlock’s name over and over again, he was so tight and felt so good wrapped around John’s cock. John knew he was probably leaking precoma inside of Sherlock. It wasn’t long until John was thrusting in and out of Sherlock at a steady pace. Sherlock was whimpering in pleasure beneath him, making the most beautiful sounds John had ever heard. John wrapped a hand around Sherlock’s long, weeping cock and began to stroke him. Sherlock gasped and scraped his fingernails down John’s back, “oh god, John, mmm, fuck” he moaned, causing John to smirk. John kissed him, letting his tongue enter Sherlock’s mouth. “ John” Sherlock panted “I think I’m going to come soon.” His legs wrapped around John’s hips a little tighter. “me too, just let go, love.” John said as he increased his speed ever so slightly, making sure to hit Sherlock’s prostate with every thrust.

Moments later Sherlock was moaning John’s name loudly, as ropes of white shot onto his stomach and chest over John’s’ hand. Soon John was coming deep inside of Sherlock, filling him up. John went to pull out when Sherlock stopped him, “ stay, please, a little longer.” John hummed in response and readjusted their position so that he was spooning the taller man, his cock still buried in him. John ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, petting his head “I love you.” He said sincerely with a kiss to his lovers’ neck. “I love you too.” Sherlock said hoarsely. “I’m so amazed by you.” John said into his neck.

John’s cock soon went flaccid and he pulled out of Sherlock, leaving the detective feeling empty. Sherlock turned onto his opposite side to face John who took him into his arms. “how are you feeling, baby?” John asked.

Sherlock hummed, “ I’ve never been better.”

A few more kisses and John’s warm hands rubbing his back, Sherlock fell asleep happy, sated, loved, and proud.

Chapter Text

In a twist of schedule John awoke before Sherlock, the detective’s long limbs still draped comfortably over him. The dark mop of curls came to rest just below the doctor’s chin, giving John the perfect position to drop kisses to his partners and inhale deeply the comforting scent of Sherlock…or home, they smell the same to him now.

John let his hand that was resting on Sherlock’s waist gently caress the detectives back. He took his smartphone off the bedside table and squinted at the bright light it emitted. He cracked a smile at his recently changed lock screen photo, it was the one the couple took yesterday of him kissing Sherlock’s cheek in the yard of the Eiffel tower. Sherlock complained about John choosing that picture to be on display, but never directly asked him to change it. He looked through a few of his social medias before swiping to his news app. The cover article read “Sherlock Holmes finds missing London medical student in Paris catacombs!” John quickly skimmed the page but it told him nothing he didn’t already know. As he swiped through the news site nearly all the recent publishing’s were about the man wrapped around him. John smiled to himself with pride to be in love with the ‘hero of London’ but Sherlock being a hero was nothing new to him, he had been John’s for a long time.

The doctor let his hand lazily drift down Sherlock’s body. Past his ribs, dipping with his waist, up his hips, over his perfect arse, and finally brushing down his thigh. Just as he was going to repeat the pattern in the opposite direction, he felt something rough. He let his fingertips graze over a set of sandpaper like scabs. John closed his eyes and tried to repress the lump in his throat. He knew immediately what they were, not even Sherlock would mistake John so stupid as to try to lie and say he got those in the catacombs. As a doctor John knew they had been healing for a few days now, but he still couldn’t help asking himself when and why?

Sherlock began to stir in his arms and John held him tighter and moved his hand off his thigh. Sherlock looked up at him and John pressed a closed mouth kiss to his forehead and mumbled “good morning” against his skin. Sherlock only hummed in response and cuddled in closer. They rested comfortably for a few more minutes before John asked, “how are you?”

Sherlock smiled and John could feel it against his bare chest, “really good…” he trailed off “like I want to go again.”

John chuckled quietly, and teased “oh yeah?” and Sherlock nodded, looking up at John with his eyes-blue like an ocean, one John would gladly get lost in.

When John didn’t begin to move Sherlock spoke up, “I’m serious” he whispered, taking John’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. “ I want you, please.” Sherlock said in a sultry tone and he took John’s free hand and led it down his body to his already leaking erection. John wrapped his hand around Sherlock and began to stroke him slowly, “you know I can’t resist you when you say please.” John murmured. He moved Sherlock so that he was beneath him and straddled his hips, “you might be sore from last night. You’ll let me know if-”Sherlock cut him off “yes, yes. John, please.”

John bent down, kissing Sherlock’s neck, nipping at the soft skin. He took himself in hand until he reached his full arousal and reached for the lubricant on the nightstand, “ same position as last night?”

“it’s your call.” Sherlock replied breathily.

John came to lay on his side behind Sherlock in a spooning position. He poured some lube onto his fingers and began to open Sherlock up. He was still pretty slick and open from last night and moaned as John worked his fingers in and out of him.

“feel okay?” John asked.

“mhmm.” Sherlock hummed “more…”

John laughed softly and positioned his thick cock at his lovers’ entrance, “patience, needy boy.” He teased kissing the nape of Sherlock neck. He teased his cock over Sherlock’s tight hole a few times before slowly pushed inside. They both groaned in sync and John let his hand grip on Sherlock hip and thrusted into him. It was even slower paced than last night, but it was perfect for what it was. Sherlock wasn’t sore, but a little more sensitive. They continued until John once again finished inside of his lover and Sherlock was a sticky mess. They were sweating and out of breath. John held Sherlock tight to his chest and whispered compliments and pet names into his ear.

Their flight was set to leave later that afternoon. John would be lying if he said he wasn’t upset that their spontaneously planned extra couple of days in the city was cut short because of Sherlock’s extra time in the catacombs and the next day being spent in bed for the most part. Sherlock had promised they would return to the city soon and make up for the lost time.

They packed their suitcases so they would be ready to load into the cab, but first they went back to the hospital to check on Emily and finally retrieve Sherlock’s coat that had been sent off to be cleaned.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meanwhile Victor had been sitting in a Parisian jail cell for nearly two days. The Parisian officers were only responsible for making sure he was kept alive and didn’t escape, but it was Lestrade who had to conduct the investigation and decide the next move to be made; and the truth was Lestrade couldn’t face him yet…not until today.

They moved Victor into a quiet room and Greg entered next with his paperwork and recording device. Another officer kept an eye on them through the soundproof glass.

When Victor caught sight of Greg he broke into the widest smile, tears threatened to prick his eyes, so happy that his newfound love had arrived to help him out of this situation. “Greg, I’m so glad you’re here. What’s going on? What took you so long?!” Victor rambled.

Lestrade rubbed his tired eyes that were adorned with visible dark circles, “your being arrested and tried for kidnapping your sister and interfering with evidence.”

Victor’s pupils went wide, “what?! Greg you’ve been with me almost every day, there’s no way…i..”

“oh save it.” Greg said slamming his hand down on the metal table. “you knew exactly what you were doing…this whole time! Thank god for Sherlock Holmes or else your poor sister would probably be dead, not that you would care.”

Victor stared up, no expression of any emotion visible on his face. The room was silent for what felt like an eternity. “so he found her…?”

“yes. And lucky for you and her both, she’s alive and will make a full recovery. And you won’t be charged with murder.” Greg stated. “ I’d hoped you were better than this. You’re being transported back to London tonight and your trial is in a week, so I suggest you call a good lawyer…and quick.”

Lestrade turned to leave the room when Victor called his name. “ I did care about you. None of that was fake. The other night…meant something very real to me. Id like to think you weren’t just acting.” Pain was evident in his voice.

For a moment Lestrade dropped his professionalism and his politically correct answers, “ I wasn’t. but what we had is over, for good.”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John and Sherlock had been back home for less than a full day when Ms. Hudson called up the stairs that they had a visitor. Sherlock and John both had already given their full statements to Lestrade for the case and were just awaiting the trial date. Emily entered their flat with a friendly but soft-spoken hello. John moved from his chair to greet her at the door and Sherlock looked up curiously from his microscope, something in his gut telling him this was more than a friendly visit.

“I’m so sorry to drop by unannounced” Emily said, and John insisted it was alright and helped her remove her coat.

John offered her Sherlock’s chair near the fireplace, “what brings you by?” he asked curiously.

Emily ran her teeth over her bottom lip nervously and rubbed her fingers together, both of which Sherlock picked up on from across the room. “um, well I was actually hoping to talk with Sherlock about something…it’s rather serious.” She spoke softly, her voice nearly wavering. When no one else spoke up Sherlock stood from his chair and leaned against the arm of John’s chair.

“is it about your case?” he asked sharply.

“well, not exactly, but its related.” Emily continued the evade the topic she came to discuss, and Sherlock’s patience was growing thin.

“well then what is it?” he questioned in a frustrated tone.

“I don’t know if you want John to be here while we talk about it…” she finally spit out, catching the two men’s attention.

John looked at Sherlock briefly before starting to stand from his chair. Sherlock held a hand to John’s chest and said calmly, “he can stay; whatever it is.” John let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and relaxed into his seat again, this time wrapping one of his arms around his lovers’ hip.

Emily cleared her throat and looked at the floor, “ I’ve decided to add additional charges to my case against my brother…for his abuse towards me.” John’s brows raised as this was the first time, he had heard of it, but Sherlock was unphased. “ my lawyer, the one Mycroft graciously set me up with, thinks the judge will disregard the abuse charges unless there is evidence…or another victim steps forward.”

Sherlock’s eyes shot up and met with Emily’s. John’s did the same and his arm tightened around Sherlock. There was a shift in the detective’s demeanor. He went from his typical low patience, near no emotion self to the man he had been in the tunnels, the one more open to show feeling, the broken-still healing- man. “ Emily, I understand why you want to, I do. I encourage you to do it, but I’m sorry, I won’t testify about my time with Victor.” Now it was Sherlock’s turn to look down at the floor.

“Sherlock, please! I know we talked about how there won’t be any true justice for what he did to you- to us, but the more charges he has the longer he will be locked up and we can live our lives feeling a little bit safer than we have been.” Emily pleaded, but Sherlock remained silent.

John racked his brain with replays of conversations he and Sherlock had over how he would rather do anything than hash out the details of his abuse in front of a jury. John knew it could very well be the downfall of the man he loved, a reset in all the progress that had been made, and that it could make Sherlock feel utterly worthless in the eyes of the world and everyone who knew him. The good doctor couldn’t help that his blood was near boiling at the thought of that happening to his lover.

“Sherlock,” Emily spoke quietly, “ for me…please.”

The sentence hadn’t lingered in the air long before John was out of his seat, “No! don’t pull that. He has done plenty for you! He didn’t have to save you, he didn’t have to comfort you, visit you in the hospital, get you a private room and the best lawyer this world has to offer, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing.” John spat out the words in defense for his boyfriend. His throat felt like it swelled shut when he saw the young girl’s eyes fill with tears and she recoiled into Sherlock’s chair that now seemed to swallow her up. John knew what he said was harsh, and he knew how much of a dick he sounded like yelling at an abuse victim, and a recently kidnapped one at that, but none of what he said was false nor did he regret the words spoken.

The room was deadly quiet.

“give me the rest of the day to think about it.” Sherlock said quietly and John turned his head quickly to look at him.

“Sherlock, no, you don’t-“ John started

“stop telling me what I should do and trying to decide what I can and cannot handle, It’s not for you to decide.” Sherlock stated with a glare in John’s direction.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked twice.” Emily apologized and walked towards Sherlock, taking his hands in her own. John quirked an eyebrow and a deeply confused expression washed over his face, he had never seen someone interact with Sherlock the way she did. He expected Sherlock to quickly pull his hands from her grasp with an annoyed expression, but he didn’t; he held hers in return.

Sherlock shook his head lightly, curls swaying with the movement, “it’s alright. Really. Just give me some time.”

Emily wrapped her arms around him in a hug that Sherlock didn’t return, but he didn’t pull away either. Emily pulled away and scribbled something down on a torn open envelope from last week’s mail, “text me tonight to let me know please.”

Sherlock nodded picking up the paper. John cleared his throat, “I’ll show you out.”

They walked down the steps together and before he opened the door for Emily to step out into the cold he stumbled over his words, “ I apologize, for how I reacted. It was out of line and uncalled for.”

Emily tried to laugh but it only came out as a puff of air, “John, its fine, I forgive you. You were protecting your boyfriend. Sure, it scared me in the moment, but I’m glad to see he has someone like you to stand up for him like that. No hard feelings, I promise.”

John smiled a bit, “still, I shouldn’t have yelled like I did.”

Emily just shrugged, repeating it was alright and left with a friendly wave as if nothing had happened.

When John came back upstairs Sherlock was still leaning against the arm of his chair. John brought him close, resting his dark hair against his soft jumper. Sherlock didn’t cry, he couldn’t force the tears to his eyes, he just stared.

“sweetheart, here, let’s get a bit more comfortable.” John said kissing the top of the detective’s head. John sat in his chair and pulled Sherlock onto his lap. The tall man let his legs dangle over the chair and pulled himself close to John his head coming to rest on the top of the others man’s shoulder. John held him tightly, kissing him occasionally, and comforted him as he slipped into his mind palace.

Chapter Text

Sherlock spent the rest of the evening in a trance. John finally had to move him off of his lap to make dinner and continue with the rest of his plans. Sherlock continued to sit silently in the same position he had left him in.

Inside the head of the world’s most brilliant detective was a broken man wrestling with emotions he suppressed at all costs. He played out a hundred different scenarios of how the trial may go, what the reactions of his friends and society may be, how this would ultimately change his life- but unfortunately the answers wouldn’t be known until the scene played out. His stance that there would be no justice for him or Emily from victor going to jail remained true, but he knew Emily had a point in that he could feel safer with victor locked up, maybe he could even take the stick out of his bedroom window. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, bringing himself back to reality. John was sat on the sofa reading on his computer, he could smell the leftover aroma of pesto John made to go with supper, Ms. Hudson was settling in for the evening below them- Sherlock’s world had been on pause for hours, but everyone else’s continued.

He stood from John’s chair and made his way to join his lover on the couch. John had his glasses on and Sherlock couldn’t help but smirk at how attractive he found his partner in them. John looked up over the rim and gave a small smile, “welcome back” he teased cautiously, setting his laptop on the coffee table to make room for Sherlock in his lap. Sherlock laid down, letting his head come to rest on John’s thighs. “ I saved you a plate, it’s in the fridge; I can heat it up for you if you’d like.” John offered as he ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock shook his head, much to the other man’s displeasure.

“I decided I’ll testify.” Sherlock said quietly.

John let out a deep breath and his head dropped back in exasperation, “Sherlock, you’ve put yourself through so much already. Why keep adding to it? You don’t owe Emily.”

“I know,” he said defensively “I’m doing it for me. Because even if it brings me no peace at least I know he won’t be out preying on other people, causing them damage, abusing them the way he did me and Emily. Don’t you understand, John? He is just like all the other criminals we chase after and put in jail- he’s a threat to society.” Sherlock had sat up and positioned himself to face his partner.

John sighed once again, “ I support you, if this is what you want to do. But, Sherlock, this isn’t going to be easy for me as your friend…or lover. Knowing how you feel about testifying, watching you go through that, knowing how hard it’s going to be for you is going to make it even harder for me.”

“Then do me a favor” Sherlock said more as a statement than a question.

John looked at him, lips pressed together in anticipation.

“don’t come to the trial.” Sherlock spoke with a plea in his voice.

John’s eyebrows furrowed, “what? Of course I’m coming. I’m not going to let you do that without me. Sherlock I know what he did to you-“

“no. you know what he did, but you don’t know the details- I’d prefer if it stayed that way. You’ll have to sit and listen to things I never wanted to say out loud-things I haven’t said out loud in all these years. By the time its all over you’ll realize I’m too fucked up to stay with. You’ll leave me and ill be alone, again. I’m damaged goods, John.” Sherlock voice nearly broke.

John’s eyes softened and he took Sherlock’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs across the smooth, pale skin. “love, I promise I’m not going to leave you. Do you really think so little of me?” he asked and was met with Sherlock shaking his head quickly. “will hearing the details be difficult and probably infuriating? Yes. But it would take an act of god himself to keep me out of that courtroom.”

Sherlock couldn’t make himself meet John’s gaze, not with his eyes glassed over like they were. John pulled Sherlock back into his lap and kissed him passionately. They continued to make out in one another’s embrace until they were beginning to be out of breath. Sherlock took his phone from his dressing gown pocket and sent Emily a text.

“I’ll do it. SH”

“thank you!! We should meet up tomorrow with our lawyers, decide the best course of action.” Was the reply he got back.

“yes. You pick the location, anywhere but my place. Ill file with the police before our meeting. SH”

Sherlock sighed and removed himself from John’s lap without a word. He took his violin from its case and began to play a sad melody, one that John hadn’t heard him play before. The doctor couldn’t help but worry that his lover’s choice may set back all the progress he had made. Selfishly he wished Sherlock would have said no and they could begin trying to forget victor ever existed. He watched in sad admiration as Sherlock swayed ever so slightly with the strokes of his bow on the instrument.

Sherlock sulked the rest of the evening and John continued to tiptoe around him in both actions and words. When they climbed into bed for the evening John opted for a small peck on his lovers’ lips rather than their normally lengthy make outs that often turned into love making and cuddling. Sherlock, of course, took notice that after John briefly kissed him, the doctor had turned his back to him and drifted off to sleep. To Sherlock it started to feel like the beginning of the end.

The next morning John remained distant. He showered without an overused joke of how Sherlock should join him, there were no terms of endearment directed at Sherlock, no pet names or lingering touches, and when John left for the surgery, he cautiously placed a kiss to Sherlock’s temple before making his way down the stairs.

Not long after John had gone to work, Sherlock went to NSY. His hands were clammy with nerves and he felt like the smallest being in the universe. He pulled open the large glass doors to the lobby and was greeted by the same receptionist who had been there since his early twenties. She mustered up a fake smile, “good morning, Sherlock, detective inspector Lestrade is out right now-”

“I’m not here to see Lestrade. I need to speak with sergeant Bradshaw.” He interrupted. The receptionist just nodded and pick up her phone.

“you’re in luck, he’s available. You know where his office is?” she said but Sherlock had already begun to make his way down the hall.

Bradshaw’s door was open, revealing him crouched over his desk, his suit beginning to wrinkle already from the position. Sherlock and sergeant Bradshaw had very few interactions with one another, but the ones they shared were pleasant and mostly included the sergeant thanking Sherlock for his assistance in cases.

Bradshaw looked up and smiled in the detective’s direction, “Sherlock, good to see you again! What can I help you with? Please sit down.” He said cheerfully as he gestured to the seats in front of his desk.

Normally Sherlock would have stood but today he didn’t think his knees would hold him much longer. The two men just stared at each other for longer than the sergeant was comfortable with. Bradshaw cleared his throat awkwardly, “so, what can I do for you?”

Sherlock swallowed and blinked a few times before dropping his gaze to the floor, “I need to file a case against someone.” He finally breathed out.

Bradshaw cocked his head, clearly surprised. He reached for a form on his desk and picked up a pen, bringing it to his lips nervously. “alright… Would you rather speak with Lestrade about this matter, he should be back soon.”

“no, I can’t take this to Lestrade. It deals with Emily Trevor’s case and he’s too involved to deal with this one as well.” Sherlock adjusted his posture.

“what are the charges you want to file for and who are they against? No one in the department I hope.” The sergeant was clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the room. The normally narcissistic, boastful, and talkative Sherlock Holmes sat in near submission before him.

“sexual assault and domestic abuse.” Sherlock said quickly and heard a sharp intake of air from the man sat across from him, “against victor Trevor.” He continued.

“her brother? The bloke sitting in our jail right now?” Bradshaw questioned Sherlock nodded, he eyes still looking towards the floor. “Sherlock, you do realize you can’t file on behalf of another person. If Emily-”

“they aren’t for Emily; they are for me.” Sherlock finally looked up, his blue eyes piercing into the sergeant. “I want to open a sexual assault and domestic abuse case against victor Trevor for actions he committed against me. Is that clear enough for you?” Sherlock said with a scowl.

Bradshaw nodded, taken back by the shift in the detective’s tone. He made a few notes on the form, “were these actions recent?”

“no, nearly ten years ago.”

The sergeant’s eyes shot up from the form and he sighed, “surely you must know how difficult it will be to validate a case from that long ago…”

“ I have a witness and two people who can back up my story.”

Bradshaw pressed his lips into a thin line, “what is your witnesses name?”

“Emily Trevor.”

Another look of shock washed over the sergeant’s face and Sherlock was quickly becoming infuriated.

“does everything surprise you?! All these years in the police department and your acting like everything I say to you is unbelievable!” Sherlock raised his voice as he stood from his chair.

Sergeant Bradshaw got up from his own seat and took a step towards the detective, his voice lowered, “actually, what your telling me is quite shocking and I’m attempting to have some compassion for you but if you want me to handle this like your any other person-fine, that’s just what I’ll do.” He glared, all niceties dismissed as he sat back down and picked up his pen. “who are the other two individuals who can speak to these claims?” he asked

“Mycroft Holmes and John Watson.”

The form took a little over two hours to complete. Sherlock was drained by the end of it. Despite his outburst and Bradshaw being angry at him, it was obvious the man was still taking pity on him as Sherlock answered his questions and elaborated on the details of what formed this case. Details he knew would be spoken in front of a jury…and John. It was against the advice of sergeant Bradshaw and later Sherlock’s lawyer to meet with Emily to discuss their files. Their cases were a unique situation. They were both separate cases, both different charges against the same person but yet they were too interconnected with one other to warrant different court sessions entirely. Sherlock would obviously be required to vouch for Emily against her brother, but Emily was also had a valuable role in his own trial against Victor. There were now two plaintiffs against one defendant.

When Sherlock arrived back at baker street he fell against the door as soon as it closed behind him. His chest heaved but he didn’t cry. Ms. Hudson opened her door and placed a hand over her heart as she worried over the detective. She approached him with caution and helped him to his feet, leading him into her flat and sitting him on the couch. All of this was very reminiscent of the very first night Sherlock had shown up on her doorstep all those years ago. The detective worked through his panic attack as his landlady watched from a distance. When he was coming to, she offered him tea and continued her baking as she kept a close eye on him. The lanky man sat in silence just staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought as he sipped on his tea. Eventually he fell asleep and quiet snores floated through her flat. She smiled sadly in his direction; a smile of pity-one she couldn’t ever let him see.

0000000000000

It was nearing John’s lunch at the clinic; he was discussing a treatment plan with an older woman with skin cancer when his PA knocked at his door. She opened it and gave an apologetic smile, “Dr. Watson, I’m sorry for the interruption. Could I speak with you a moment?” She announced earning a questioning look from John. He excused himself and followed Sarah back to his office.

“yes?” he asked once the door was shut.

“ I know it doesn’t have to do with work, and its personal, but I thought you might want to see this before it gets much later.” Sarah babbled as she typed something into her laptop. She clicked a link for the London news and Sherlock’s picture appeared on the screen. “did you know about this?” she asked, and John took the device from her hands as he read the title Famous Detective Files Sexual Assault and Abuse Case.”

John ran his hand down his face, rubbing his tired eyes.

“you didn’t… I mean-“ Sarah began but the doctor was quick to cut her off

“Christ, no, it wasn’t me. An ex-boyfriend of Sherlock’s.” He said and heard his PA breathe a sigh of relief.

“do you want me to call doctor Melendez, he’s available to fill in if you need to go after you finish up with your patient.” She offered and John graciously accepted.

John biked home a little faster than usual when he left the clinic, eager to check in on Sherlock. He rushed upstairs only to be disappointed that the detective was nowhere to be found. He called out several times before Ms. Hudson called to him from the stairs. John took them two at a time, " is he alright? Why is he in your flat?"

" he's had a bit of a panic attack but he's alright. I've just been looking after him." She said placing a hand on the good doctors back and leading him into the living room. Sherlock was still laying on the couch, he was awake but groggy from his nap. John crouched down beside him, " hey, are you alright?" He asked, reaching to cup Sherlock’s face before stopping himself. Sherlock took note of the action and inwardly scowled. " I'm fine, why are you home?" He questioned.

" I saw the news...I wanted to make sure you were okay." He said in a sympathetic voice that only annoyed the detective.

" go back to work, John." Sherlock said icily, picking up his coat and walking upstairs to his own flat.

Chapter Text

By the time John made it up the stairs Sherlock had already started puffing away on a cigarette. John rolled his eyes and sat down in his chair, taking his laptop from its case and doing his usual paperwork as he kept an eye on his detective.

The day continued without either of them saying much of anything to one another. Well, John would speak to Sherlock and if he was lucky Sherlock would make some kind of audible sound as a response.

John made dinner- Sherlock didn't eat. John watched tv- Sherlock didn't join him. The doctor grew frustrated when Sherlock lit yet another cigarette and closed his book a little harder than necessary. " right, I'm going to bed before I get secondhand smoke." John retorted and walked towards the stairs.

Sherlock took yet another long drag, " what, no goodnight kiss?" He scowled.

John clenched his fists at his side and turned around to face his boyfriend, " I don't really want to kiss an ashtray."

Sherlock laughed coldly sending a puff of smoke into the air above him, " you haven't wanted to kiss me at all lately."

John tilted his head, " excuse me?"

Sherlock smashed the cigarette into the crystal tray on the coffee table, the same one he had stolen from Buckingham palace. " don't play dumb, John. I've decided to testify against victor for all of a day and a half and you’re already starting to treat me different."

John’s eye twitched slightly, " I don't know what you’re taking about."

Sherlock flopped dramatically onto the sofa and pulled at his curls, ". If it's going to be like this, I dread what we will be like during the trial, not to mention once it's over. We probably will have broken up by then and you'll be back to some woman. You'll probably bring her by here to shag and sneak her out by morning, the same way you did before me. I bet you never coddled any of them the way you do me."

John pinched the bridge of his nose at Sherlock’s moody tone and quickly found himself standing over the detective, " what the hell are you on about, Sherlock? I'm going to try really hard to ignore the fact you just implied I’m a slag."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, something he knew John despised when he did. He took note of the way John began biting the inside of his cheek in anger. " nearly a dozen times in the past 48 hours you've almost touched me and decided not to. You've barely kissed me when you’d normally have your mouth on mine every chance you get. You've deliberately not instigated sex today when I know you wanted it last night and this morning. You've gone back to treating me like you were months ago! Im not who I was months ago, I’ve changed, grown, evolved, whatever the hell you want to call it- its time you do the same."

"God forbid I care about you Sherlock. God forbid I try to do right by you because it always ends up coming back to bite me. Nothing I do is ever right when it comes to you. I touch you too much, then not enough; I make sure you’re alright too often, I'm too considerate, I pity you. You know what, I do pity you- but not for the reasons you think. I don't pity you because you were abused and still suffer with consequences from it. I pity you because you have someone who tries every day to help you and you treat them like shit. What a miserable life it must be to be able to treat someone that way and have the mindset they will keep coming back to you."

Sherlock sat shell-shocked. There was a lot of truth in what John said and it cut deep. He blinked a few times, but John’s gaze never left him.

" I'm going to sleep alone tonight; I need some time to myself. Goodnight." John said as he turned to leave. The detective heard the footsteps fade as John ascended the stairs and recognized the familiar sound of John getting into his bed. Sherlock hadn’t slept alone in months, and he hadn't slept in his bedroom since the incident with victor climbing through his window.

His stomach growled. A few weeks ago, he would have felt proud to be that hungry but knew that the only reason he was hungry was because John hadn't asked him to eat since last night. He sighed and pulled John’s leftovers from the fridge, taking a few heaping bites. This was the first time in a long time he ate when he felt hungry and no one forced him to do it.

He soon retreated to his room. The bed was still freshly made with his clean sheets, the window held securely in place by the poster stick. He undressed and climbed into bed but not before checking the window and his closet. He felt pathetic that he was still scared with victor locked in jail. He lay restless under the covers; every small noise made his chest feel tight and his mind think the worst. He knew sleep would never come this way.

He wrestled with his own thoughts and pride before he swallowed it and climbed the stairs to John’s room. When he opened the door, he could see John’s silhouette outlined by the streetlights. He stood in the doorway for a few moments debating on whether or not to go back downstairs. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of safely that washed over him just from being in the same room as John.

Sherlock was torn out of his thoughts when John’s voice broke through the silence, " Sherlock? What are you doing, love?" John asked sleepily and the detectives heart jumped at the pet name, another beloved attribute John had decided to forgo in the past few days.

" I-I can't sleep in my room." Sherlock said with a hint of shame and embarrassment.

When John was about to question why, he had woken up enough to realize why Sherlock was uncomfortable alone in his room. Guilt washed over the good doctor. " oh, baby, I'm sorry." He said sincerely as he pulled the covers back, inviting Sherlock into the bed with him.

Once again, Sherlock chest felt tight, but no longer from fear. He stepped closer toward the bed and untied his dressing gown, letting it fall and reveal his bare body. Sherlock shook his head at John’s apology and climbed on to the mattress, careful to keep his distance from the other man.

John threw an arm over Sherlock and pulled him closer. " I should have known. I'm sorry. And you should have said something." He said as he pet Sherlock’s curls and let the detective melt into his touch. Sherlock sighed in contentment and carefully intertwined his leg with John’s.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said what I did." John said still stroking his lovers hair, " and your right, every time something new happens with victor I treat you differently again. I'm going to try my best to stop that, okay?"

Sherlock nodded against John’s chest, " I shouldn't have said what I did either, and I'm sorry if it seems like I take you for granted but honestly John- I know how valuable you are and how lucky I am."

John placed his hand on the side of Sherlock face and gently guided it upwards so that he could kiss him with ease. He kept one hand in his hair and the other holding Sherlock’s body close to his own. John moves his lips in sync with his lovers, enjoying the connection between them. John’s hand wondered down the detectives back until his grip was filled with Sherlock plush arse. The taller man let out a pleasured groan and John smiled into the kiss, “tell me what you need.”

“for you to keep doing that with your hands.” The detective said breathily as he began to slowly grind himself into John’s thigh.

John chuckled softly, “that’s not what I meant, but I don’t plan on stopping.” He replied with another firm squeeze to Sherlock’s backside. “what do you need from me so that I’m not hindering our relationship.”

Sherlock pulled away and looked into John’s eyes, barely visible in the low-lit room, “ what I’ve wanted-needed since the beginning…don’t treat me like I’m broken. Don’t ask if I’m alright every five minutes. I told you long ago, John, if I don’t want to do something I’ll tell you.”

John nodded, “ it makes me nervous if I don’t ask you.” He confessed

“then figure out a different way. plus, I’m sure you will be able to think of a few ways to distract me from victors impending sentence in the evenings following the trail.” Sherlock said between kisses to John’s jaw.

John hummed in agreement and in one unexpected fluid motion he took Sherlock’s cock into his fist and began stroking it. The detective gasped, “mmm… John”

“should I show you some of the ways I plan to distract you?” the doctor teased and gave a sly grin when Sherlock nodded frantically. He smoothly rolled Sherlock onto his back and positioned himself overtop of him. John kissed and bit at Sherlock’s smooth neck as the detective groaned below him, “sometimes I forget how strong you are” the detective trailed off.

“ I was a soldier, Sherlock, you shouldn’t find it that surprising.” John said quietly as he moved the blankets off of them.

A mumbled “yes, captain.” was spoken so quietly John thought he must have misheard. He grinned as he licked across Sherlock’s collar bone, “down boy.” He teased back earning a small laugh from his lover. “it’s late and you especially need to sleep-“ John began but was cut off by a plea of objections from Sherlock. John pressed a finger to the other man’s babbling lips and quieted him. “all I was going to say was that I’m keeping the foreplay to a minimum.” He leaned forward kissing Sherlock hard, “I’m going to make you so tired you’ll sleep until noon.” He whispered in Sherlock ear and the detective moaned loudly as he raised him hips to gain friction from John’s thigh.

John grabbed the slick from the nightstand and adjusted their positions so that he could finger Sherlock open. He didn’t ask or warn before he added another digit, the reaffirming sounds coming from the taller man said enough about how he was feeling. John placed one last kiss to the back of Sherlock’s shoulder before withdrawing his fingers and laying on his back, “ready?” Sherlock nodded and waited eagerly to feel the stretch of John breeching him. But after several seconds too many without John’s touch Sherlock looked behind him in confusion, “why did you stop?”

John leaned close to Sherlock ear, placing a featherlike kiss to it, “ I told you I’m going to make you tired…I want you to ride me”

Sherlock went still, feeling very intimidated by the idea. “John, I-I haven’t before…”

John pulled Sherlock on top of him, caressing the side of his face and kissing him, “I know. It will be alright, I promise. Wanna give it a try?”

Sherlock knew-in theory- how one ‘rode’ their partner during sexual intercourse, but when faced with the prospect himself, he felt nervous. What if he messed it up? What if he did it wrong and John hated it? With a deep breath he placed his legs on either side of John’s hips, he began to grind back against John’s hard cock in an attempt to ease it into himself. The movement ended up being awkward and Sherlock was losing his arousal as he grew flustered about his shortcomings.

“John” he trailed off as he stilled his hips and let a hand come to rest on his lover’s bare chest.

The doctor opened his eyes and looked up at the detective, “yes, baby?”

“I hope you commit this to memory because I may never say these words again.” Sherlock had John’s attention “I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

John chuckled fondly and brought Sherlock down into a deep kiss. When Sherlock leaned down to meet John it lifted his hips to a perfect angle and the shorter man took advantage of the opportunity. He reached between them and grabbed the base of his cock and guided it into Sherlock’s tight entrance. The detective gasped, “oh” and John smiled against his lips.

“find a comfortable position so that you can pump yourself up and down on me, love.” John said as he trailed his hand down Sherlock’s chest until he reached his lovers partially soft cock.

Sherlock moved his posture until he was in a position to have a decent amount of leverage, “ what should I do with my hands?” he asked shyly before John took his wrists and guided him to rest his palms on his chest. The vision of Sherlock above him and sat on his cock was what he imagined he would see at the gates of heaven. “god, you are what dreams are made of.” He mumbled and Sherlock began to slowly let his hips rise and fall. John moaned loudly at the feeling of being encased by Sherlock. Sherlock continued to move slowly, as soft whimpers brushed past his lips. He was consumed with arousal as his own length beaded with precum, but he wanted more and could tell John did too.

He picked up his pace and they both let whispered curses of pleasure into the space between them. John put his hands under Sherlock’s thighs to help support him and he began moving on top of the ex-soldier even faster. Every time John would hit Sherlock’s prostate the detective would bite his bottom lip and let out a low moan that was a delightful sin to John’s ears. Sherlock was now practically bouncing on John’s cock. John knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The final straw was when he let his hand come to rest low on Sherlock’s abdomen and could faintly feel his own member moving inside of his lover. “fuck, Sherlock I’m gonna come. Come with me, sweetheart.” John huffed as he stroked Sherlock faster and thrust his hips to meet up with Sherlock’s movements.

Sherlock’s heart still fluttered at the use of the pet name during a moment like this. He held his breath as his orgasm built and felt John coming inside of him as the quick thrusts continued and his own wasn’t far behind. As he came he let out a breath and pressed his chest to John’s, burying his head in the nape of John’s neck, muffling the cries of his extasy against the doctors shoulder.

“oh my god.” They both sighed as they came down from their high.

John became soft inside his lover and his cock slipped out, causing Sherlock to whine at the empty feeling. John’s come slowly dripped from Sherlock and fell into his neatly trimmed bed of soft blonde pubic hair and pelvic bone. Sherlock was still laying on top of John, his own ejaculate pressed between their bodies.

The detective finally rolled off of his doctor after a gentle kiss. John watched carefully as Sherlock sank lower down the bed until he was lingering over John’s groin. The doctors eyes widened in both surprise and anticipation as Sherlock began licking over his skin to swallow the come that had been inside him moments ago.

Sherlock took notice of John’s responses to his actions and was pleased to see there was no signs of disgust or judgement. He finished cleaning John’s come and left his own sprayed across John’s stomach and ribs. John grabbed a dirty shirt from the floor and wiped himself off, “not interested in your own?” he said half-jokingly.

“only if you want me to be…or if I can suck it off your fingers.” Sherlock said sleepily as he curled into John’s side. The doctor laughed good naturedly and kissed Sherlock’s forehead, that was still slightly damp with sweat.

“you were amazing, baby. You always are. I love you.” The doctor praised his lover as he admired the near sleeping figure next to him.

“you too, John.”

Chapter Text

The days leading up to the trial passed like fading transitions of an ending movie credit; some moments seemed to drag while others were gone in a flash. They avoided talking about the trial at all costs, but it was inevitably brought up from time to time. When the London papers had made their way to Sherlock’s parents beautiful country home, it was a matter of hours before Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were at the doorstep of 221b.

John had been the one to greet them and with neither he nor Sherlock being warned of their impending arrival you can imagine the look of surprise that washed over the doctor’s face as Mrs. Holmes pushed past him, eager to see her son. Mr. Holmes on the other hand gave John a tight smile and handshake.

Sherlock had only just lowered his violin when his mother wrapped him in her arms. He could feel tears beginning to seep through his shirt where her head rested near the center of his chest. She sobbed and held him tighter, with pleas of “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you” and “how could I have not known.” being spoken into the fabric. He let his chin come to rest on the crown of her head and moved his eyes to look towards the ceiling so that tears might not fall. Under any other circumstance he would be annoyed by the affection and spontaneous drop in, but even he with his lack of emotional detection could tell how deeply hurt his mother was. He dropped a kiss to her head and whispered affirmations that nothing about the situation was her fault and she should feel no blame. John and Mr. Holmes watched the scene unfold from the doorway, and when Sherlock’s mother finally released him from her hold, his father stepped closer to him. The tension in the room grew tangible and it was evident that his father was struggling with both what to say and how to act. It was an expected reaction from his mother, but the relationship between a father and son is different.

Mr. Holmes was a loving man, uncharacteristically gentle for a man of his time, always soft spoken and thoughtful with his words. He never acted from a place of anger. He accepted Sherlock wholeheartedly when he came out as gay, he was proud of his younger sons work and accomplishments. But never did he prepare himself for the feelings that overwhelmed him when he read over the article in the paper. In his time, men didn’t talk about sexual assault against other men and they definitely didn’t come forward about it. Mr. Holmes is a progressive man and had made himself overcome most of his prudence against the topic in recent years, even making donations in support of legal help for victims both male and female. However, it all felt very distant, things he heard on the television and forgot about by the next day, but this was his son. The boy he taught to walk, talk, read, drive, and to never apologize for being who he is had been defiled in a way he never thought possible. Much like his wife, he couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty in one way or another. He vowed to always protect his family and he felt as if he had failed his son. Mr. Holmes’s vision of his son grew as Sherlock did, and for many years now he always saw Sherlock as a brilliant detective and man but now looking at him in the small living room of his flat he saw a little boy. His little boy. The same one whose eyes were glassed over and afraid of an outcome from breaking one of his father’s gardening tools while pretending to be a pirate.

It felt like he had stood staring at his son forever, unsure of what to do. But when Sherlock broke the silence with a broken, “Dad, I’m-” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his son. Sherlock hugged him back for the first time in a long time. To his fading memory this was the first time they had embraced one another since he and his wife dropped him off at university all those years ago. “it will be alright, it will.” was all he could offer to his son.

When the emotions in the room had settled enough for them to all take a seat, Sherlock gave them a brief summary of what to expect to be discussed in court, should they come. He fought with them not to, to spare him the humiliation, but they insisted. When Mrs. Holmes grew brave enough to ask about Victor, John reached over to take Sherlock’s hand out of habit and almost jumped back when the grey haired woman let out a shrill sound. John looked at Sherlock as it dawned on the both of them that the detective’s parents were unaware of their relationship. They were both overjoyed and switched any talk of Victor to be about his and Sherlock’s relationship. The Holmes’s had arrived only a day ahead of the court date and were staying in a hotel nearby.

It was the night before the trial, Sherlock and John both felt uneasy but continued on as if it were another day. When they settled into bed that night John pulled Sherlock onto his chest and played lazily with his curls while Sherlock traced stars around the entry point of John’s scar.

“doing alright?” he asked and felt Sherlock inhale deeper than usual.

The detective nodded against his chest and looked up, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “are you?”

John thought for a moment, “yeah, I am. Don’t get me wrong, I have my worries about it…and you, but I’m okay. You know I am going to protect you at any cost, right?”

Sherlock smirked at John safeguarding him, “ very thoughtful of you, John, but there will be plenty of security there. No need to break out your old military uniform.” He teased fondly. When John didn’t reply Sherlock tacked on “on second thought I’d love to see you in you uniform sometime.” He said licking over John’s collarbone, making the older man moan.

“ I knew you had thing for military men.” John said proudly

“I don’t, I just have a thing for John Watson.” He said rolling off his lover, back onto his side of the bed.

John murmured, “bullshit” under his breath and draped an arm over Sherlock, it was his turn to kiss his lovers neck. “why hasn’t Lestrade reached out? It has been days since the press released that issue, and its all they’ve been talking about since.”

Sherlock turned slightly to look at John, “ he’s not been allowed any outside influences since he became so involved with the case and is testifying as part of Scotland Yard. He most likely has no idea.”

John’s eyebrows raised, “so he’s going to find out about you and Victor during the trial?” he said in an alarmed tone. Sherlock nodded and his breathing slowed, John knew these to be the signs of his lover drifting into sleep. He wouldn’t push the conversation any further, Sherlock needed all the rest he could get. He couldn’t help but envision Greg’s reaction when Sherlock takes the stand on behalf of himself. He felt terrible for what his friend may feel afterwards.

The alarm blared on John’s nightstand early the next morning. He reached over and laid a heavy hand on the off button before gently caressing Sherlock’s arm in an attempt to wake him. The detective stirred slightly, opening one eye to look at John.

“Sherlock, we need to start getting ready, love.” He whispered, peppering kisses to the tall man’s shoulder.

“can I have five minutes?” the dark-haired man mumbled sleepily, and John laughed quietly and agreed.

He pulled on his robe and walked downstairs to put the kettle on and turned on the shower as he made his way back upstairs. He crouched down next to Sherlock, “ the showers warming up.” He said kissing the detectives head as he opened his eyes once more “ I have two options for you.”

Sherlock raised his head a bit and made a tired ‘hmm’ sound.

“ I gave us a bit of extra time this morning to get ready, just in case we needed it. So option number one, you can sleep in an extra twenty-five minutes, or you can join me in the shower…”

Sherlock was already headed downstairs and stepping under the spray when John reached the kitchen to turn the kettle onto the ‘warm’ setting.

He joined his boyfriend under the hot water and let his hands run along the length of Sherlock’s torso. “ I want to give you something.” John said seductively as he moved closer to Sherlock’s neck before sucking a dark redish purple hickey at the very base near his collar bone. “that’s to remind Victor who you belong to.”

The look in Sherlock’s eyes shifted from lustful to pure love as he reached up to touch the mark with his delicate fingers. He kissed John hard and let himself be pushed against the tile wall of the shower. They teased one another until they had to wash up and get the morning started.

As the time grew closer to needing to leave the flat Sherlock’s stomach grew uneasy. John insisted he eat a few bites of something before they left, but knew this time it was nerves and not an eating disorder telling Sherlock not to eat. The doctor made sure to throw in a few snacks in Sherlock’s small briefcase. A crowd had begun to form near their door and Sherlock peered down at them through the sheer curtains. Many people just stood watching, a few held up signs that had various versions of, ‘ we support Sherlock’, and all of them wielded cameras ready to fire as soon as the detective stepped foot out of the flat. He saw their cab pull up and heard John’s phone ring confirming they were coming. They met Mrs. Hudson at the door of her flat and John positioned her between him and Sherlock to protect her from the crowd. It was a chaotic few seconds but they all safely made it into the back seat of the cab. Sherlock replayed what some of the bystanders had shouted, “ we believe you”, “ thank you for standing up for others.” “we are here for you.” The detective shook his head, “I don’t understand, John. Those people…they are all so supportive. I don’t even know them, they don’t know me.”

John and Mrs. Hudson shared a small smile between them, “ you resonate with people Sherlock. Whether you believe it or not, you’re one of the good guys and people see that.”

It still didn’t make a lot of sense to the tall man but for now he would disregard it and think about it later. When they arrived at the courthouse they were met with a similar scene, except this time there was more press and media outlets than what covered most crime scenes. It all seemed so foreign to the detective. His lawyer warned him this may happen and to not speak to the press, but he didn’t think it would actually come to this.

A few members of the police force helped escort them inside the building as others controlled the crowd. Emily and her parents were the first to be noticed by Sherlock. She caught a glimpse of Sherlock and ran to him throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek before doing to same to John. Mr. and Mrs. Trevor walked cautiously towards the couple and their daughter. Sherlock held his breath and John chewed the inside of his bottom lip out of nervous habit. “Sherlock, it’s been so long. We wish we were seeing one another under happier occasions.” Mr. Trevor spoke clearly in his deep voice. Sherlock could only nod. “ we want to thank you for saving our daughter, we owe you so much. And…we are deeply troubled to find out about…well-” Mrs. Trevor stumbled through her words. “you’re welcome. You were always kind and welcoming to me. I know this time can’t be easy for you.” Sherlock spoke eloquently and with compassion, taking even John by surprise. They parted ways and John and Sherlock watched as friends and family began pouring through the doors. Sherlock’s parents came first, then Mycroft who reluctantly took the days off to support and testify on behalf of his little brother, Lestrade came next, then Molly and Anthea, even Anderson and Donovan.

He and John had decided against any PDA during these days, in an attempt to preserve their privacy. But when Sherlock’s eyes fell on Victor’s bright orange jumpsuit, his breath hitched and he took John’s hand ,who squeezed it reassuringly. He watched as four officers escorted a handcuffed Victor closer to him and John. They all lingered close together in the small waiting area. When Victor walked by he loudly clanked the cuffs together and smirked in Sherlock direction before speaking in a low cynical tone, “ I remember how lovely you used to look in these.” One of the officers jerked him away from the detective and kept him moving into the courtroom. John bit down on his cheek and wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s waist, “I won’t let him touch you. It’s going to be fine.”

Strangely, Sherlock felt unbothered by Victor’s snide remark. It was almost as if a new wave of assurance and confidence had washed over him. “ I know. I’m fine, John.” He leaned into his lovers touch even more, “ I really am.”

Chapter Text

The small court room began filling with people. Press, spectators, the jury, friends and family members and security. The row directly behind Victor was reserved for family or close friends, but the seats all remained empty. Behind Emily sat her parents, her best friend, Sherlock and John. The detective presumed Emily’s case would be discussed first and breathed a sigh of relief. Discussing her case would come with an ease that he would not have the luxury of when presenting his own.

John gave his lovers hand a final squeeze before releasing it entirely. The last to enter the court room was the judge. A middle-aged woman with short brown hair, thin lips, and eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She smacked her gavel on the podium bringing the court to order. All parties were sworn in and the day that once seemed so far away had begun.

“ Ms. Trevor, I have read over you case and it is to my understanding you are asking the court for reprimands against the defendant ,Victor Trevor, on the accusations of abuse, kidnapping, and attempted murder- is that correct?” the judge inquired with no emotion.

“yes, your honor.” Emily replied as her fingers nervously gripped the podium in front of her.

“your file states that the defendant is also your brother, is that correct?”

“yes.”

“Now that you have agreed that my statements are accurate you may plea your case.” She said into the small microphone as she picked up a pen to take notes. Sherlock watched her every move. She was known for being impeccable at her job but infamously known for being rude to the individuals on the stand, never allowing her emotions to come into play. In many ways Sherlock related heavily to her, but worried if her intimidating demeanor would shake up an already nervous Emily.

Emily swallowed and took a deep breath, “ my brother has been a ticking time bomb since I was old enough to understand what that meant. He is unpredictable, manipulative, explosive, and fails to control his emotions. This nearly always results in fits of rage that hurt those in his way. My whole life ive seen him throw things, punch walls, and even kick our family dog when things didn’t go his way. Despite these faults, he and I had always been close. Up until I was ten and he and his boyfriend at the time broke up. After that he began hitting me, leaving bruises and cuts on my body in fits of anger. It used to only be when he was angry and mom and dad were gone but it grew into a regular occurrence without any instigation needed. Sherlock had been the one who-“

“Stop.” The judge interrupted sharply. “ I don’t care about Sherlock right now, I’ve read his case and he will have time to speak his side. I’m only interested in you and your brother right now. Got it?”

“but your honor, its relevant to-“

“no, it’s not. Only speak of you and your brother.” She glared down and raised an eyebrow, “so your brother began abusing you at age ten, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I was scared.”

The judge nodded, “ of what? And your parents, they never knew?”

“of him-Victor- he always reminded me if I told anyone about what he did, he would hurt my mum and dad. They traveled for work when I was young, they never knew until a few weeks ago.”

“sounds to me like you have negligent parents. What couple leaves their college age son in charge of a child?” her question was redundant, and her voice burned into its listeners. Mr. and Mrs. Trevor lowered their eyes in shame. “ you had friends that you often stayed with, their parents never saw any of these bruises?”

“sometimes, but I became very good at hiding them. If they ever pried too much about them, I would stop going to their houses.”

“ I don’t assume you have any photographs of this abuse?”

“no, but I have two witnesses.”

The judge made a gesture with her hand to bring them forward. An older blonde around the age of fifty stepped forward along with a short brunette who seemed to be close in age with Emily. They introduced themselves as Emily’s lifelong best friend, Kate, and her mother. The judge asked them a series of questions and they both verified they had seen signs of abuse on Emily’s person during the given time frame. Emily was then asked to continue with her statement.

“Victor and I lived in the same household until he graduated from university. He then moved out of town for work and the abuse stopped and our relationship began to mend itself. I saw a therapist for years, sometimes I still do, I never told him specific details of why I wanted to have sessions with him, it helped me forgive him and myself. I’ve always wanted the best for my brother, despite it all, I love him. A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to file the charges for abuse against him and wanted him to seek help. I decided to speak with him before I went to the police to give himself the chance to make the changes on his own, but he became furious when I brought up the subject and stormed out of my house. I chased after him, but he got in his car and left, at least I thought he did. I had my dog with me, and we were walking in the grass near my flat and someone came up behind me, cut my dogs leash with a knife and then held it to my throat. It was Victor and he told me if I didn’t come with him, he’d kill me…and Sherlock.”

There were several audible gasps in the courtroom and all eyes fell on the raven-haired detective, who was shocked himself. Emily never mentioned this to him. John was bouncing his leg in frustration glaring towards the opposite side of the courtroom where Victor sat. Lestrade’s eyes went wide and locked with Anderson and then Donovan’s. Mycroft remained unfazed until his mother grabbed his hand and he felt compelled to comfort her.

The judge hit her mallet to the table once more as the crowd began to whisper, “continue Ms. Trevor.”

“ so I went with him. He kept me in his home for several days and then took me to the airport. he drugged me as soon as we got into the cab in Paris and the next thing, I remember is waking up in a pitch-black cave. I had a small bag next to me with some water and cyanide pills.” Emily’s voice had started to tremor, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she finished her statement. When she looked towards her brother, she saw that his eyes were welling with tears.

The judge redirected her attention to Victor, beckoning him to release his statement.

“Your honor” he began with tears in his eyes and a sorrowful voice, “ my sister is very sick. She has been for a long time. As a child she would be fine one minute and acting erratically the next. Sometimes she would hit herself hard enough to leave bruises. I used to hold her arms close to her so that she didn’t hurt herself too badly.”

Emily’s face scrunched up in anger as she stood from her seat, “your honor, that’s a blatant lie!” she said aggressively.

The judge glared at her and smacked her mallet on the table, “sit down Ms. Trevor and don’t interrupt again, you had your time to speak.” She said coldly before motioning for Victor to continue.

“as you said yourself, my parents left me alone for most of the year with the responsibility to be the sole caretaker of a young child, and a mentally unstable one at that. I tried everything I could to get her to see a doctor or therapist but i couldn’t as I wasn’t given the power of her legal guardian. It would be very easy to think the bruises came from me, but I assure you I would never hurt my little sister. When I moved away, I was relieved to find out she had sought out help and was put on risperidone, an antipsychotic medication. Her behavior improved significantly, and we became very close again. I was so worried for her during these episodes as she often didn’t remember going into them. But lately she stopped taking her medicine and as a med student has had access to prescription drugs… I have reason to believe she has been misusing them. I did go over to her home on the day of her disappearance, and when I used the restroom, I saw empty pill vials and loose pills on the counter, I googled them, and they were oxycodone. It’s true I did leave in a hurry and in anger, but it was because I was so scared for my sister. But when I left, I really did leave. I drove to see my therapist, who I’ve been seeing to help deal with my sorrows about my family life. I spent nearly every day after her disappearance working with New Scotland Yard to help bring her home. Detective Inspector Lestrade and I spent many hours looking for suspects and evidence. It’s unfortunate to be standing where we are, but I’m glad my sister is home and safe.”

The judge remained unmoved, but several members of the jury were visibly emotional by Victor’s’ statement. Sherlock rolled his eyes and stared in the direction of his abuser and then at Emily who was struggling to keep her composure. In a moment of compassion, he reached across her parents and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She managed a small smile before releasing his hand. John looked fondly at his boyfriend, fighting the urge to lean up and kiss him.

“Mr. Trevor do you have any witnesses or evidence to support these claims before we move on with the trial?” the judge asked taking down notes.

“I do, my therapist who also treated Emily.” He spoke and Emily turned to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

A tall man with slicked back hair moved from the crowd and stood next to Victor at the podium. Sherlock reached for John at the same time John had reached for him. This man, this so-called therapist was the same man who had been visiting Sherlock several times a week since his incident in the hospital. Sherlock turned his head quickly to look at Mycroft. The younger Holmes face was twisted with anger but softened when his brothers’ eyes met his with confusion.

Mark was sworn in promptly and gave a statement with backing paperwork that he had prescribed Emily an antipsychotic and had been meeting with both her and Victor for several years. He left Sherlock out of the situation for now. He claimed that Emily never explicitly told him why she wanted to see a therapist only the struggles she was having, and he treated her to the best of his ability. He also had paperwork confirming that Victor had been to see him shortly after Emily’s disappearance, asserting truth towards Victor’s’ side of the story.

A few members of NSY gave statements about evidence found prior to Sherlock’s help and then it was time for the detective himself to take the stand. As Sherlock rose to his feet he secured the middle button of his suit jacket and took a deep breath. He was confident about his information; he had no reason not to be. This would be the easy part of the trial, discussing his findings in front of people was something he took pride in. Perhaps it was because it helped him exude a confidence he didn’t have in his personal life, or maybe it was the ego boost it gave him when people were amazed by his discoveries. He took a sip of water and John looked towards the ceiling with a pleading look, to whatever god may be listening, that Sherlock wouldn’t act like a complete cock.

Just as Sherlock was about to begin his statement the judge spoke into the microphone, “Mr. Holmes, what is your relationship to the plaintiff, Emily Trevor?”

The question caught Sherlock off guard, “ I don’t see how my relationship to her is pertinent to this part of the discussion.” The detective replied assertively.

“oh god.” John whispered, placing two fingers to one of his temples and rubbing them in tight circles.

The judge looked up suddenly from her paper, “you are in my court. You will answer the questions I ask, or you can sit down and this portion of the hearing will be over.”

Sherlock bit his tongue to hold in the snide remark he was going to fire back at her.

“what is your relationship to Ms. Trevor?” the dark-haired woman repeated.

“ a victim in a case I was assigned to solve.”

“is that your only relationship to her?”

“it’s the only one that matters at this time.”

“Mr. Holmes!” the judge snapped

“No.”

“then what other relationship do you have with her?”

“she is the sister of my ex-boyfriend.”

“for purposes of recording I need his name said aloud.”

“Victor Trevor.”

Whispers began once more in the courtroom, but one voice stood out amongst the chatter. Lestrade called out, “wait, what!” catching John’s’ attention. The former army doctor looked in the direction of his friend in sympathy, he didn’t know half of what was coming. The courtroom was quieted once more.

“so you knew Ms. Trevor prior to the alleged kidnapping, correct?”

“yes.”

“did you know her well or only spend time with her when necessary?”

“I knew her well.”

“did she ever behave erratically or aggressively towards herself in the time you spent with her?”

“no, she was a very happy little girl.”

“did you ever witness her brother be mentally or physically abusive towards her?”

Sherlock pondered how to answer the question, picking his words carefully, “not during the time I was with him.”

“and how long were you and the defendant romantically involved?”

Sherlock could hear John fidgeting in the seat behind him, “from when I was fifteen to age twenty.”

“ we are not going to discuss your other claims at this time, but you have made very bold and serious accusations against Mr. Trevor, does revenge play any role in your participation in this case?”

Sherlock’s forehead crinkled, “no, of course not. I didn’t even know who the victim was when I became involved and when I found out I wanted to drop the case. I didn’t even want any of the Trevor’s to know I was ever considered to investigate the crime scene, but I was told by inspector Lestrade I was too involved to be dropped from the case.”

“did inspector Lestrade know of your previous relationship with the victim and accused?”

“no, this is the first he is hearing of it.”

It felt as if all eyes in the room fell on Lestrade who appeared to be in a trance, hanging on every word between Sherlock and the judge.

“please proceed with your statement. Only the parts relevant to Ms. Trevor’s case.” She said harshly, her brown eyes staring daggers into Sherlock’s blue ones.

Sherlock recounted all of the evidence, making sure to emphasize the key piece which was the dirt left in his flat after Victor had paid him a visit. He recounted of how he found Emily in the tunnels. “ id like to tell you of a conversation the plaintiff and I had regarding her abuse accusations… if I may.” He added bitterly. The judge nodded her head, much to Sherlock’s surprise. “ Emily told me she sought out therapy because her brother was abusive towards her, this shocked me as I had spent nearly five years around this family and Victor was nothing but kind to her. However, she told me- and this will make sense to you seeing as you have viewed my file- that she became my replacement when our relationship ended.”

The judges eyebrows raised, “you bring up an interesting point, Mr. Holmes; it will be taken into consideration.”
Lestrade was sat next to Donovan and he could feel his stomach begin to churn as he put the story together while Sherlock’s last sentence replayed in his head.

The judge called for a recess and the courtroom dismissed into the hallway. John chased after Sherlock who was hot on Mycroft’s heels.

“what kind of sick game are you trying to play with me?” Sherlock spat to his older brother.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about, Sherlock, really.” Mycroft replied calmly, taking a step back from his brother.

“you sent Emily and Victor’s therapist to my home to be mine?!”

Mycroft gave his brother an odd look, “Sherlock. I told you the therapist I hired was female. I don’t know that man.”

“he told me the woman you initially hired moved away and he was her replacement.”

“don’t you think I would have told you if it were going to be someone different?” Mycroft hissed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “ oh yes, because you always let me know about your decisions.” He said sarcastically.

Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “ how much does this guy know?”

“the bare minimum, but he knows the bare minimum about a lot!” Sherlock was getting worked up. John placed a firm hand on his shoulder, “come with me to the loo?” Sherlock huffed but followed him anyway.

“what, did you need me to hold it?” Sherlock said in a bratty tone, earning a laugh from John who was already relieving himself.

“no. I just needed to be alone with you for a few minutes.” John said finishing up and washing his hands before pulling Sherlock into one of the stalls and locking the door. He leaned onto the balls of his feet and kissed the detective slowly. He could feel his lover relaxing in his arms as he held him in an embrace.

“better?” he teased, but Sherlock smiled and nodded.

“your doing wonderfully, sweetheart.” He praised as he fingered throughout Sherlock’s hair. The detective gave a sad smile accompanied by a shy ‘thank you.’

They exchanged I love you’s and another kiss before returning to the courtroom. There were still a few minutes before the session resumed when John remembered the granola bars in Sherlock’s briefcase. He dug one out and passed it to his partner. Sherlock took it and began unwrapping it when he saw Victor watching him with a sly smile. He handed the bar back over to John and directed his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t eat in front of Victor.

Chapter Text

Hello my sweet readers,

I first of all want to thank every single one of you who has read this story and taken the time to comment, I truly can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you enjoying a story I put so much work into. That being said, I feel the need to be very honest with you all. it has been far longer than I would have liked since I have updated a chapter and I am genuinely sorry and feel guilty about it. I want to give you all this update because you truly deserve to know what is going on and the future of this story. In the past few several weeks I have started back being a full time college student, taking 15 credit hours of science and math based classes can really wear you out haha and takes up a lot of time and energy, but aside from that- I have some other things going on. I'm about to get really personal here so if you don’t want to read it skip to the TLDR summary at the end lol. At the end of May, my 4 1/2-year relationship with my first boyfriend and first love came to a pretty heart wrenching end. I have struggled far more than I’d like to admit and far more than even those closest to me know. I’ve persisted pretty well through the breakup but there are some extenuating circumstances around it that have impacted me much more than the ending of our relationship. however, far more difficult than the breakup- I have been mentally slipping into a very dark place lately, returning to old habits I thought I had long overcome. My heart is broken, but more prominently is how I feel broken, lost, and so very unhappy. When I began this story all those years ago, it became a coping mechanism for me- an outlet that provided a distraction and relief. as you may have noticed from some of my replies to comments, this story is so much more to me than an interesting plot and a blossoming romance between two characters I adore. This story has its moments of sunshine but is overarchingly very dark and deals with heavy subject matter, but even heavier emotions that come along with it. At this moment, in the headspace I am in as of lately, writing this story feels toxic to my mental health and wellbeing. Equally as important, I want to give YOU, my readers, a story worth reading. There are only a few chapters left to this story and I want them to be amazing and fulfilling for me as a writer and for you all as my readers. I don’t want them to be half-assed filler chapters or rushed. whether you think this story sucks or if you love it, it deserves a proper ending. THAT BEING SAID: I promise I am not going on another five-year hiatus haha. I am going to give myself ONE MONTH of not worrying about updating or writing this story, reevaluate, and then hopefully finish it! It honestly breaks my heart to take a break, but I think it’s the mature and best thing for me to do. I really hope you all will still be here when I return.

Also, I know I reply to just about every comment- but I truly want to thank everyone who has commented such sweet things on this story. your words never fall on deaf ears and it genuinely makes me so happy and even more inspired to continue writing.

TLDR: Summary

I've got a lot happening in my life right now, but I love and care about you all and this story. I am taking ONE MONTH off and then will return hopefully better than ever to finish this sorry in the way it deserves. I hope you can understand and will be here when I return.

Stay safe and healthy, lots of love....always,
Anna xx

Chapter Text

Lestrade was the next to give a statement. It was, for the most part, very surface level- only providing the details about the case, not delving into personal relations. It was painfully obvious how badly Lestrade wanted to break all professionalism and start drilling Sherlock and John as to why he wasn’t told about Victor being Sherlock’s ex-lover. For god’s sake Sherlock encouraged him to flirt with the man. Sherlock probably- no definitely- knew they had hooked up. Whenever a verdict finally came, and he would be allowed to talk to the boys of baker street…they were in for a long discussion.

After Lestrade’s statements the judge closed the session for the day, deeming it suitable to continue at noon the following day. Her words burned in Sherlock’s ears, “tomorrows time will be dedicated to the allegations made by Mr. Sherlock Holmes against Mr. Victor Trevor.” That meant all of tomorrow, however long the court would go on would be solely dedicated to intimate discussions of his past. The very thought made his stomach do flips and his hand tighten in John’s. Sherlock’s side of the court was dismissed first and he said his goodbyes to those who had attended as John thanked them for their support. Sherlock supposed he appreciated their being there but couldn’t help but think he wished they wouldn’t come, at least not tomorrow. He and John sat down on a bench near the doors of the court, hand in hand. Waiting for the call that their cab had arrived. Ms. Hudson who was sharing the ride back, was caught up in conversation with one of the other attendees.

John had one arm wrapped around his lover’s waist and the other holding one of his hands. Victor exits the court room, a uniformed man at his side but distracted in conversation with another officer. John feels Sherlock tense under his hold and notices he doesn’t dare look in Victor’s direction- but not John. John stares challengingly at the abuser, a stare to cut glass and cold enough to cause a second ice age. But victor always did love a challenge; he leaned closer to the two men, glaring back at John, “ I can think of a better use for that pretty mouth than spewing all those lies to the jury.” He grinned menacingly. Although his eyes never left John’s, it was obvious the words were directed at Sherlock.

John practically snarled in victor direction as the guard caught on to what was happening and moved him away. “John let it go.” Sherlock said with a soft hand placed to John’s wounded shoulder. The shorter man moved to put a firm hand on the back of the detective’s neck and pulled him down into a hard kiss. It was short lived but when John snuck his tongue between Sherlock’s lips the detective couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. The kiss was over as quickly as it had begun, and John was leading his boyfriend out of the courthouse. Sherlock smirked and leaned down, whispering “someone’s possessive today.”

John cleared his throat and straightened his posture, “you’ve got no idea how possessive I’m feeling.”

“promise to show me when we get home?”

“oh god yes.”

The car ride home was…charged. John kept his body touching Sherlock’s at all times, kissing him a few times too many than what would be considered appropriate for being in a cab with two other people, one of them being their friend and landlady and the other an innocent cab driver. They quickly paid the cabbie and scurried upstairs, ignoring Ms. Hudson’s comment about removing her hearing aids as soon as she got inside.

Inhibitions forgotten; John pushed Sherlock down onto the sofa. His hands tangled in the wild dark curls as he slotted his lips against his lovers. John tilted Sherlock’s chiseled jaw up and began pepping kisses along it, working his way to the pale skin of the detective’s neck. Sherlock was fumbling to unbutton John’s shirt, as he bit back little moans of pleasure. John was unfastening Sherlock’s belt when the detective heard whispered dirty talk of a mind-blowing blow job. But Sherlock had something else in mind. He stopped John’s assault on his neck and pulled him back up for a passion filled kiss. “go sit in your chair, i'll be right back.” Sherlock whispered as he gently motioned to push John off of him. The shorter man complied with a confused look on his face as he watched Sherlock fast walk up the stairs to their most recently shared bedroom.

John removed his trousers, leaving him only in his tight black briefs. Sherlock came back down, naked from the hips down, and sunk to his knees in front of John. “you want to give me a blowjob? How is that fair?”

Sherlock shook his head, “ no, well-yes- I do want to, but that’s not the main purpose of why I’m down here.” A small smile played on his flushed pink lips. John’s eyebrow quirked as he watched Sherlock pull a small tube of slick from his blazer. John huffed a laugh “please tell me you didn’t bring that with you to court.” He teased, earning a small chuckle from Sherlock, “of course not, that would be highly inappropriate.” He set the tube next to him on the floor and reached to remove John’s hard member through the keyhole in his briefs. He wasn’t sure when Sherlock had made the turning point to become a little minx but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. Sherlock confidently licked John from base to tip and then back down, never breaking eye contact. John let his head drop back against the chair as he let out a deep groan, his hand instinctively went to rest lightly on the back of Sherlock’s head.

The detective teased him until shiny precome glazed over the head of his cock. Sherlock finally took him into his mouth and hummed in satisfaction as he began bobbing up and down on his boyfriend. Sherlock preened at John’s whispered ‘yes’s and ‘ god, just like that’s’ that came between compliments to Sherlock’s oral skills. The detective felt around the floor for the lube he had set down earlier and popped the cap off with his fingers, catching John’s attention. Sherlock spread the clear gel across two of his fingers as he pulled off of John’s cock and rested his head on his lover’s strong thigh. The doctor watched him with lust filled eyes as Sherlock reached behind himself and began pumping the slicked fingers in and out of himself.

John groaned loudly and pet Sherlock’s head, “ god, you’re going to kill me.”

Sherlock adjusted his posture, his eyelids half closed from the stimulation he was putting on his prostate, “ I hope not.” He smirked as he took John back into his mouth. He continued riding his fingers until he felt the muscle loosen to a comfortable position. He stood up, ignoring the ache in his knees and began unbuttoning his white button-down. When he started to remove his black blazer John stopped him, “leave it on. You look so hot.” The detective straddled John’s hips, as the doctor helped support him as he moved into a comfortable position. He could feel John’s thick cock pressing along the crack of his arse. John trailed his hand from Sherlock’s collar bone down his chest to his simi-hard member and began stroking it at a steady pace. Sherlock lifted himself, reaching behind him to align John’s cock with his entrance and slowly began to sink down on it. He bent himself so that he was making quiet moans into the nape of John’s neck, occasionally nipping at the skin there. John’s hands held firmly to either side of Sherlock’s waist as he helped keep the movement going.

They were both getting closer and closer to their climax when Sherlock decided to lean back, displaying his naked ivory chest that contrasted with the deep black of his still worn blazer. John was sure he had seen the face of god. “I wont last much longer.” He panted.

“me either. Harder, please.” Sherlock whimpered and who was John not to comply with the man in his lap. He thrust upwards to meet Sherlock’s bounces and soon the detective had his arms wrapped around John’s neck for support. “ come inside me.” Sherlock whispered in his ear, sending him over the edge. He had come inside of Sherlock before, but hearing that deep baritone voice ask for it did something for him. His hands gripped firmly on Sherlock’s bubble-like cheeks as he emptied himself inside his lover. As the last few drops were pushed into Sherlock, John felt hot ropes hit his own bare torso.

Sherlock fell limp against the doctor’s chest, smearing the sticky liquid between their bodies.
John ran his hand soothingly up and down the stretch of Sherlock’s back, trying to ignore the raised scars from the detective’s time in Siberia and some of which he knew had been caused by victor. “baby…” he breathed, and Sherlock cuddled in closer. They sat there comfortable in post orgasmic bliss until John could feel the come between them starting to dry. He had come to adore how pliant and sated Sherlock seemed to be after a particularly good sex session and hated to disrupt the man whose mind never seemed calm. “ let’s continue this in the shower, okay?” he whispered, feeling dark curls nod against his shoulder.

Sherlock reluctantly lifted himself off of John’s now soft penis and clenched at the empty feeling left inside him. when he stood his knees shook and John was quick to stand up and hold him close for support. The ex-soldier chuckled softly, secretly proud that he had that kind of effect on his boyfriend. John picked up Sherlock and let him wrap his legs around him and carried him to their shared bathroom down the hall. “shower or bath, baby?” he asked, setting Sherlock on the sink counter.

“Shower.”

“are you sure you can stand?”

The detective nodded; his eyes looked heavy with fatigue now rather than lust. John turned on the tap and let it warm up as he pressed a few gentle kisses to Sherlock’s lips, “ want to call it an early night?” another nod.

Their shower was kept pretty short, sparing only extra time for lazy kisses and fond touches. Sherlock was out of his blissed out haze but falling into one of tiredness. He was trying to read on his phone, but John watched as his eyes would fall shut before quickly opening again. The doctor took the phone from Sherlock’s hand and plugged it into its charger on the beside table. He wrapped an arm around Sherlock who had already settled into his normal position of his head on John’s chest and one leg draped in between John’s. “ I love you, John.” Sherlock said clearly. John was sure the detective heard his heart skip a beat. Leave it to Sherlock Holmes to make the most generic name in the world sound special.

“I love you too, darling.” A pet name he only brought out on special occasions. He felt Sherlock smile against his chest, “ darling…” he sighed before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Sherlock woke long before John did, the blue light of the clock beamed 4:25 into the darkness of the room. It was too bright, the silence was too loud, his mind was too busy, his body was too hot with John’s strong frame pressed against him. It would be at least another two hours before John would begin to stir, maybe more considering how tired he seemed to be after the activities of last night. The detective inhaled deeply, trying to divert his thoughts to last night rather the impending trial that laid before him…but he couldn’t. He huffed in frustration and moved carefully from John’s side, trying not to wake him. The silk blue dressing gown hung on the bedpost and he slipped it over his shoulders before exiting the bedroom and walking to the sitting room. his briefcase sat on the table, mocking his exhaustion and electric thoughts that kept him in the state. He knew what he was going to have to do tomorrow, had rehearsed it in his head, everything about the case and the trail thus far was tucked away at the front of his mind palace, easy to reach and read through. Yet he felt drawn to open the case and read through all the files once more. Insecurity would be his downfall and he knew it, but he felt helpless to it. The details he planned to share would be more than sufficient to disgust any sane human being, certainly enough to have the entire courtroom-except maybe Victor- pitying him. it was what he and the lawyer had discussed. But what he arranged to share wasn’t the worst of the things that had happened to him, they were surface scratches of the hellish pit that lay below them.

All the years since leaving Victor he had dealt with the consequences of his own coping mechanisms, but failed to deal with the trauma that instigated them. He had reflected more on his actual relationship with Victor more this last month than ever, but hadn’t fully let himself remember all the things he was trying so hard to forget. So that’s what he was going to let himself do…remember. He opened the briefcase and pulled out all of the meticulously sorted papers. He spread them across John desk and stared at each main statement he had highlighted in bold. He read over them all until it felt like acid was boiling up in his throat, wanted to spill out onto the page and disintegrate all of the text, he hoped it would erase all of the memories too. Maybe if he couldn’t remember he wouldn’t feel so fucked up. He kept reading and kept remembering, it all played out like a movie before his eyes, he could almost feel the harsh lashes of hands, whips, crops, and whatever else was close by on his skin once more. He hated that when he got to the many instances of rape he could almost feel Victor back inside of him. He hadn’t noticed that John had woken up and made his way to the sitting room.

John looked at Sherlock hunched over the desk, looking paler than usual and shaking. He grew angry when he saw what he was looking at. He called out his partners name softly but gained no response. He made his way to him and placed a soft hand on his shoulder, the man beneath it jumped. “ sorry, sorry…” John apologized and stepped even closer, “ you should be resting, in bed with me, not reading this.” His tone was stern but not unsympathetic.

“ I can sleep after the trial…hopefully.” Sherlock spit out, his tone so much different from when they had gone to sleep. “ besides I wasn’t sleeping anyway. Better to wallow in self pity by myself than next to you. What time is it?”

John cleared his throat, “its nearly seven.” Something in him just snapped and he grabbed Sherlock’s bottom jaw between two fingers and bent down to stare into his eyes, “ listen to me. You are not wallowing in self-pity and if you are then snap out it because its not doing you any good. You’re hurt, vulnerable, scared, and even though you have no reason to be-your perhaps a bit ashamed or embarrassed. You’re human Sherlock. I know you hate to lower yourself to such a plebian level but like it or not that’s what you are. You’re not a sociopath and you know it. so it’s time to accept the reality, just for a little bit, that you feel something just like the rest of us. I know I will never be able to imagine what pain you may be feeling right now, and ill give it to you- you’ve done a damn good job of hiding it and passing it off this week. Your diversions don’t work with me anymore, I know you too well.” He took a breath and released Sherlock’s jaw and crouched to his level, hands place on his knees, “ I love you more than life itself, and ill be damned I stand by and watch you destroy yourself…do you understand what I’m saying?”

He did. It was unconventional of John, a level or force he had never used with Sherlock since finding out about the abuse, but it was a reality check. “ I can’t stop thinking.” He sighed and started to pack away the papers.

“ we have time before we need to get ready… play something for me.” John took the violin from its case and passed it to Sherlock along with the bow. “ play and ill fix breakfast.”

“ I don’t want anything.”

“too bad.” John grabbed his jaw again, but this time to kiss him with intensity.

The conversation landed in all the right ways, a small grin crept across Sherlock’s face and he raised the instrument to his shoulder and began to play, admiring John as he shuffled about the kitchen. How did he ever live without John? He didn’t, he just existed.

Sherlock was alarmingly still on the drive to the courthouse, and remained stoic as they sat on the pew inside the room waiting to be called to jury. “ you haven’t taken anything have you?” John asked out of genuine concern. He could practically feel Mycroft behind him listening for the response.

“ I wish.” Sherlock’s quirky reply caught John off guard and the two began giggling, which was perhaps a bit not good when attending a trail such as this. “ its my trial, ill laugh if I want.” Sherlock had read his thoughts send the pair into another fit of laughter that ended abruptly when the judge smacked her gavel on the podium.

“ the continuation of the Holmes vs Trevor case is called order. Mr. Sherlock Holmes please take the stand.”

Sherlock stood, buttoning his suit jacket at the middle and placed the papers and notecards in front of him. he took a sip of his water. John looked back at Sherlock’s mother who was already sniffling and holding Mycroft’s hand, John almost wished someone was there to hold his. He settled for clasping his own sweaty palms together.

“Mr. Holmes I’ve been warned this will be a rather lengthy statement, is that correct?”

“yes.”

“take as much time as you require; however if you stray too far from the course I will have to interject, do you understand?”

“yes.”

John knew what statement was coming next. He also knew it would be new information for most of the courtroom. As the judge spoke he subconsciously mouthed the words along with her, “ you are choosing to represent yourself against the defendant Victor Trevor on the charges of domestic abuse and sexual assault, correct?”

All heads jerked up and stared at Sherlock’s back. Greg felt a pit open in his stomach he felt nauseous.

“yes.”

“please clarify the extent of the sexual assault.”

“repeated instances of rape over a five year period.” Sherlock’s tone was level, but John watched the mans fingers rub against each other at his side.

“ you may begin” the judge granted permission and Sherlock closed his eyes briefly taking a deep breath and looked at his first statement highlighted in bold on the page in front of him.

The First act of physical abuse.

He remembers it vividly, like he does everything if he lets himself dwell. It should have been the last act too. It was only two months into their relationship, he was head over heels in love with the popular red haired boy that captivated everyone. Sherlock had made a snarky remark as he and Victor descended the stairs to their next class, they were alone in the stairwell when he smacked Sherlock across the face…before the dark haired boy could even register what happened Victor was apologizing profusely, cupping his face in his hands and kissing over the red mark. Sherlock forgave him. He forgave him that time, and the time after that, and so fourth.

Eventually the apologies lost their sincerity before ceasing to exist at all. The physical abuse had gone on so long and increased with severity that eventually Victor came to realize he could lash out in whatever way he desired with no fear of Sherlock leaving him. bruises were soon an accessory for Sherlock. to this day he can’t explain why he protected Victor, why he let it continue for so long, or why he let it happen at all. Perhaps Victor was filling a void in his life, sating a fix that he didn’t know where to get anywhere else- that was until he discovered cocaine and heroine.

He spoke these statements aloud to the jury in a much more elegant and composed manner than what flowed through his head. He took a breath and looked subtly back at John. John was what filled that void now- and he was better than Victor or drug ever was.

Sherlock looked at his next list, numerous bullet points all under the bolded title of Sexual Assault. He picked up his notecards that he was prepared to read off of, verbatim, just like his attorney suggested- but those cards were a watered down, if not sugar coated, version of the things that he had endured. He looked over at Victor who gave him a sly smile. Sherlock eyes thinned as he watched his ex. Why was he going to grant Victor mercy, he was certainly never given any. He placed the cards back down and heard John’s breath hitch, he could practically feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of his blazer.

“Victor Trevor raped and submitted me to acts of sexual torture throughout the majority of our relationship.” The room had already been quiet, but now it held an eerie silence. It was as if everyone had stopped breathing, only the lights hummed above him. His mouth felt unbearably dry, but he knew no amount of water would fix this feeling. “ the first time It happened I was sixteen. I was a virgin, had gone no further than kissing and the only person I have ever kissed was him. Not that any of this should matter but I’ve been informed it’s the kind of information that is often valued.” He paused and met the judges attentive stare, a silent beckon for him to continue. “ Victor called me one evening, his parents and Emily were gone. We were the only people in the house, everything seemed normal; we called in delivery and watched a movie. When it was finished…” his voice had begun to waver but he corrected it quickly, “ he said he heard a rumor about me. A rumor that I had been on a date with another boy from our class, I hadn’t of course. I denied it after every slap that landed on my face. He told me if I was going to act like a whore, I should be treated like one. I didn’t understand what was about to happen until I was pinned on the couch and he was removing my trousers and pants.” He thought he heard John swallow. He could see Emily staring at him with eyes that expressed sympathy, but more than anything they showed support. He didn’t want to look at his parents or John right now. “ He thrust into my body, unprepared, hard and fast. I screamed and begged and apologized in every language I knew. But he didn’t stop. It wasn’t finished until he was and he left me there on the floor of his living room, so he could shower and wash the blood off his penis.”

Unknowing to one another, John and Mycroft realized that the story they had originally been told about that first incident was a lie. Victor hadn’t been under the influence of alcohol at all, he knew what he was doing. Mycroft scolded himself for having the story wrong all these years.

The judge took the small pause as an opportunity to speak up, “ the blood was from your rectum, correct?” Sherlock nodded. “ tearing very often leads to infection if not treated, did you seek medical care?”

“ I did, but-”

“and the doctor didn’t notice the problem and fill out a report? You were a minor your parents would have been notified.”

“ I created a list of symptoms in order to get an antibiotic that would ward off infections. I did my research.”

“ I want to make sure we understand each other. You lied to a doctor to obtain antibiotic you would need if infection did occur.” He nodded once more, “ do you have proof of this visit?” Sherlock passed the officer on duty the doctors excuse for his school, dated the day after the rape. “continue.” Her voice was neutral, but he could tell by her silence he had begun the foundation of a credible case.

“obviously I never told anyone it happened. It continued to happen, never once in our five year relationship do I remember to consenting to sex with Victor Trevor- and believe me when I say it would be something I would remember.” His words held venom.

“why did you stay? And for that long?” she asked coldly, her eyes not leaving his.

“because that’s what I thought love was.”

John was clenching his jaw to keep the lump in his throat from rising any further. Sherlock’s mother quietly shedding tears behind him made things no easier.

“Victor stopped apologizing for anything after that- not that an apology would have fixed anything- nothing seemed off limits to him anymore. Especially when we were left alone. We lived together the two years we were at university together. He manipulated my mind as much as he did my body. Weeks of comments about my weight let to him making me a proposition, every half stone I would lose he would reward me. It was always nonconsensual sex, or acting out some depraved and perverted game he had invented. But I did it because I believed him that my body was repulsive and that I was lucky that he wanted me. I believed him wholeheartedly when he said no one but him would ever be able to stand being around me, certainly not want to be romantically. I tried to placate him, too scared to be alone forever.” Sherlock detested the pain he felt within him as he recalled those heart wrenching emotions. “I was starving to please him, only for him to reward me with more pain. Before long the pain turned to numbness and I turned to cutting myself and drugs, but that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”

“I have you saying in your statement you were subjected to ‘acts of depravity and sexual torture’ can you elaborate?” her eyes scanned over the papers that laid before her. Some including pictures of Sherlock from his days in the university orchestra where there are visible bruises.

John’s eye closed for a long moment as he attempted to prepare himself for what Sherlock may say. He never knew about this.

“often times Victor would have penetrative intercourse with people other than me, but he took fascination with inflicting pain on me, the worlds worst sadist.”

“Mr. Holmes” she warned about to added metaphor.

“ he would retrain my limbs in an imaginative number of ways: handcuffs, rope, belts, duct tape, scarves, zip ties- it didn’t matter, I was always restrained for these ‘sessions’ and if I resisted I would always get knocked out, either by physical blows or sedatives he would obtain from his friends. I was always restrained when I woke up. There were traditional acts of whipping, flogging” Sherlock hesitated with a shudder as he recalled the next one “caning. He would take box cutters and cut me, often threatening to cut my jugular if I didn’t comply with whatever rules he set that day, and I believe that he would have.”

“do you have any evidence of these cuts?” she asked looking through the photographs to see if she had missed it.

“they all blend in with the cuts I inflicted on myself, I didn’t figure you would-”

“I asked do you have any evidence?”

Sherlock fought not to roll his eyes, “ not photographed. I can point them out to you if you like” he said sarcastically, but nothing about it was amusing when the judge said yes.

“you’re not seriously-” John stood up from his chair and the judge was quick to reprimand him.

“ are there any cuts that would stand out, different from the ones you made yourself.”

Sherlock’s mind flashed back to the night Victor caved his name into his side. Sherlock nearly had to go to the hospital when the blood seemed to just keep coming. After they had broken up he struggled to reach that spot, but when he did he covered it with new slashes, the razor blade tearing through the scar tissue and replacing it with fresh wounds that would hopefully cover the name of the man he was trying so hard to forget. He fought with himself whether to lie or not, taking his clothes off would be the least exposing thing he would do today. “yes.” He unbuttoned his blazer and removed it, passing it back to John who looked moments away from erupting in a fit of rage at the scene unfolding in front of him. Sherlock unbuttoned the black shirt and walked towards the judge, removing his shirt the rest of the way. There were gasps from the jury, some of them probably in reference to all the scars on his back from his time in Serbia, but most of them were in reference to the many deep raised scars that were obviously self-inflicted down Sherlock’s arms.

“oh my god” Mrs. Holmes choked out and made a swift exit out of the courtroom. John wanted to go check on her, but felt he was needed more here with Sherlock. he looked over to the members of NSY who all shared the same expressions of shock on their face. The man they had known for all these years, who they had picked on time after time and who had seemed unphased by it was someone they really didn’t know at all. John was sure guilt was weighing heavy on the likes of Anderson and Donovan. Greg was looking paler by the minute.

Sherlock turned and raised his left arm, “ if you look closely you can see his name underneath the scars I put on myself.”

The judge walked out from behind her stand, for the first time visibly uncomfortable, “ may I?” she asked and Sherlock nodded, closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn’t flinch at her touch. She ran the fingertip of her index finger over the scars, unable to deny that the letters ‘C’ ‘O’ and ‘r’ were definitely still visible in correct succession beneath the attempt of a coverup. “and you didn’t do it yourself?”

“no. the angle of the letters would make it physically impossible for me to have done anything other than the straight lines that overlap them.” Sherlock sated, his face burning with embarrassment and anxiety.

“this will be taken into consideration.” She paused, “ you may redress.”

Sherlock’s eyes met Victor’s, he sat back, arms folded over his chest and winked at him. Sherlock skin crawled with disgust but in his head he was 18 and having Victor evaluate his body, critiquing it as he stood naked before him trying to decide if he was worthy of a reward or deserving of punishment.

“ you may continue.” The judge announced, taking her seat once more.

“all of the previously mentioned forms of torment, while repulsive, paled in comparison to a ‘sexual aid’ he had custom made.”

Sherlock’s lips kept moving but it was as if a nuclear bomb had gone off in Greg’s mind, all he could hear was ringing. He remember Victor telling him about the custom made toy that had made Greg squirm with second hand pain. Surly it couldn’t have been the same toy, surly it couldn’t have been Sherlock it was used on.

“there was a buttplug that was tiered in squares of decreasing size- I’ve drawn an image as a reference-” he handed the paper to the same officer who gave it to the judge, her brows raising as she studied the image. “ they corners were sharp and painful, they were meant to be.” The image was soon placed under the projector for the rest of the court to see along with the other pictures that had been viewed so far. “ the two wired that come from the base were connected to a remote. The plug was able to conduct powerful electric shocks and-”

Greg couldn’t do it any longer, he ran quickly to the trashcan at the front of the room and expelled the contents of his stomach into it. He felt sick in every imaginable way. Sherlock and the rest of the court had come to a pause, the vomiting man drawing the courts attention away from Sherlock for a brief moment. Long enough for him to look at John…who was already looking ah him. it was a mistake, as soon as he read John’s expression he had tears welling in his eyes and cascading down his cheeks.

The judge smacked her gavel loudly, “ Mr. Holmes I do apologize but given the current situation I am calling a recess.”

Sherlock was the first person out of the courtroom as John elbowed his way through the other members of the jury to chase after him. Mrs. Holmes had nearly composed herself, but it all fell apart again when she saw her son. She reached for his arm but he shook her off and continued walking, turning a corner and disappearing. John soon emerged from the crowd and approached the Holmes’s, attempting to console the distressed parents. “ I mean this in the most respectful way Mr. And Mrs. Holmes…I think you should go to your hotel for the day. Mycroft can update you on the case. No parent should endure this.” He tried to reason as quickly as he could, eager to go find his lover. Mr. Holmes agreed and soon got his wife to comply. “ we are so grateful to you John. Your good for him.” Sherlock mom said quietly and John stepped closer to give her a brief hug and kiss on the cheek.

He circled the building with no signs of his boyfriend, until he spotted a familiar dark head of curls through the small window of a stairwell door. He opened it, Sherlock spun around immediately but relaxed when he was met with John. His John. John that made everything better. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he could somehow make this better.

John wanted to ask the most redundant question of ‘are you okay?’ but he didn’t. Of course Sherlock wasn’t fucking okay and he didn’t have to put on a brave face and act like he was. John took a tentative step towards him and when Sherlock didn’t back away, he brought him into his arms. The detective body heaved with each sob. John was hurting, he would have to be a real sociopath not to, but he didn’t cry- he didn’t even feel like crying anymore. He was teetering between numbness and overwhelming anger, but it was all overshadowed by the need to comfort his boyfriend. “I…I didn’t know. I had no idea about-”

“now you do. And we aren’t even half done.”

“baby, it’s-”

“how can you still do that?” Sherlock choked out, pulled away from John’s embrace to look at the shorter man, “ how can you still speak to me with affection when I’m not deserving of it. you’re finding out how messed up I am and you-”

“sweetheart,” John said, only making Sherlock cry harder, John took him back into his arms. “my love for you is not going to decrease after this hearing no matter the results, no matter what I hear or see or learn about your life before me. I’m not finding out how messed up you are, I’m finding out you are so much stronger and more amazing than I already thought you were…and you know how I am always so amazed by you.” He felt Sherlock’s body shake, but this time with a small laugh rather than tears. In a bold move John reached under his shirt and removed his dog tags, he hadn’t worn them in years but something told him to put them on this morning- perhaps because this felt like the hardest battle he would ever endure. He delicately placed them around Sherlock’s neck and tucked them under the taller mans shirt. They shared a knowing look of deep emotion, John reached up to wipe the tears from Sherlock’s face and leaned forward to kiss him. they stayed like that for as long as they could until the alarm sounded for them to return to the courtroom. Sherlock retook his place at the podium and placed a hand over the spot where the metal tags rested on his chest.

“my sincerest apologies Mr. Holmes, you may continue.”

Sherlock straightened his posture and began to reclaim his time, “ As I was saying, the two wires as the base of the plug were electric conductors that connected to a remote, obviously controlled by the abuser, Victor Trevor. He would retrain me, insert the plug, and spontaneously electrocute me whenever and whatever voltage he saw fit. Often times I would pass out from the pain. I sometimes pleaded with the universe to kill me.” Sherlock’s regained confidence seemed to wear off far too fast and he was desperate for another hit of his new drug, John Watson, who had just proved he could make anything better. “ Victor would have company over, select company, and…” deep breath “ it was a frequent occasion for the remote to be passed around the room. used at the holders discretion.”

The judge remained stoic, “ was that the extent of his friends involvement?”

“no.”

“I need details Mr. Holmes.”

“they would pay Victor to have me perform oral sex on them.”

John seethed, Mycroft’s stomach churned, Greg fought back another wave of nausea and the rest of the court didn’t look much better. Emily and her family, except Victor, all sat with quiet tears falling from their eyes. Everything got worse the more Sherlock divulged about his life, when would it stop? How much worse could it get?

“ do you know who these men were?”

“no. I was always blind folded.” Sherlock hung his head in shame. More over not being able to identify the other men than from being sold like a cheap whore.

“did these men ever penetrate you anally or was it exclusive to oral sex?”

“it was exclusive to oral. The plug was always kept inside me during these times.” The judge nodded for him to continue. “ the events happened at least once every week but more often than not, multiple times. I’m sure your wondering what finally made me leave. I wish I had a key moment that made things change but I didn’t. there just came a day that I knew I had to leave before he killed me. Your honor, I believe one day he would have killed me. I packed all my things and left while he was at work one day. I moved cities, I switched to an exclusive private university, and I created a job and began trying to forget the five years I spent with this vile human being. I have suffered the consequences of substance abuse, eating disorders and self-mutilation that have led to hospitalization on many occasions, not to mention severe emotional and mental trauma. I don’t want your sympathy not pity, I ask that you and the jury will consider the evidence and testimony given and make the right decision to remove this dangerous man from society.” Sherlock felt lightheaded and was grateful to quickly take a seat.

John was quick to take his hand and give it a firm squeeze. Sherlock just stared straight ahead.

“Mr. Trevor pleads not guilty to all accused charges in the case of Holmes versus Trevor. Mr. Trevor you may now take the stand.”

Victor made no motion to move from his seat, rather his lawyer came forward, “Mr. Trevor has decided not to plead his case.”

The judge looked up in a complete state of shock and Sherlock felt his blood run like ice in his veins,John was still digesting the information.

“Mr Trevor you are not allowed to change your official plea in the middle of the hearing.”

Victor stepped forward, “I plead not guilty.”

“Are you aware about having neither you nor your lawyer testify you will almost certainly be found guilty of all charges.”

Victor did an answer, just grinned like the devil himself and sat back down. The judge looked utterly shellshocked and hastily called the session for the day, announcing the case will wrap up tomorrow and a decision will be made.

Sherlock's hands were shaking as they were held by John’s.

“Sherlock explain it, I don't understand.” John’s tone expressed worry underlaying with confusion.

“if he plead not guilty, he knew I would have to testify. Probability and tradition says the ‘victim’ always tells their story first period he just wanted to watch me relive those memories, to hash the most private details of my life out to a room filled with people.”

Chapter Text

Hi friends! I promise a new chapter is in the works and coming your way! It's finals week for me right now so I've got to stay focused on that at the moment, but after that I'm all yours :) I just wanted to let you know that I have created a twitter for my writing and interacting with you all ( if you would ever want to lol)! I will be posting life updates, chapter updates, and just random things to i enjoy on there to hopefully build a better connection with my readers and keep them informed! I am also so INCREDIBLY excited for you all to (hopefully) read the new Johnlock story i've been working on, Suddenly All the Songs Were About You, being released on January 15,2021! I hope you all are doing well! If you have finals coming up i wish you the best of luck and believe in you!

TWITTER: @OhHeyyItsAnna

Chapter Text

The court was dismissed. Unlike the last time the room was let out, Sherlock was the last to leave. He sat quietly with Johns hand firmly on his knee and the doctors gaze nearly burning a hole in his face. When there was no one left but the two of them, John stood and extended his hand for Sherlock to take. They waited for their cab along with Mrs. Hudson, who kept audibly quiet but her sympathetic eyes were deafeningly loud. John kept a close watch on his partner, almost desperate for a sign that Sherlock was in distress and needed him to come to his rescue, but troublesome sorrows never showed across the detectives face.

When they arrived Sherlock left John to pay the cab fare as usual, while he was already making his way up the stairs. The detective had taken off his blazer and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair, replacing it with his blue dressing gown. He sat down at his microscope and acted as if it was any other day- like the entire past six hours hadn’t happened. John tried that tactic too, changed from his court clothes into more comfortable ones, made the two of them a cup of tea and began typing away at some medical records. This farce lasted all of an hour before he was bursting at the seams to have Sherlock say something-anything- about the trial. “are you okay?”

The dark curled pulled away from the microscope and a crinkle on the pale forehead gave away the mans confusion, “ yes, fine, why?”

“wh-why? Sherlock, what happened today was, well it was sick!” John stood from his chair and watched the detective do the same, both taking a few steps towards one another.

Sherlock sighed, “ maybe so. John…” he took another step closer and leaned slightly towards the shorter man “ I would have had to testify either way. If Victor went first, I would have told the same stories, shown the same pictures, nothing would have changed. There is no use creating a victim complex out of it.”

Phrased that way it made complete sense, and as usual, Sherlock was right. No matter what would have happened in the order of testimonies, Sherlock would have had to say his side of everything. John put a hand on Sherlock’s ribs, subconsciously where he now knew Victor’s name was carved into the delicate flesh. Two pairs of blue eyes met and comfortably stared into one another. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and for the first time, staring at Sherlock, John thought the younger mans soul seemed at peace. John leaned up to give him a light kiss that was returned with a thin lipped smile. “ I’m going to go shower.” And with that Sherlock left John with only his thoughts.

Inside the small bathroom Sherlock started the water for the tub, deciding against the quickness of a shower. As the water heated he disrobed and looked into the mirror, he felt very indifferent about the person who was staring back at him. He smiled to himself and welcomed the feeling of indifference. Pouring some bath salts into his water and stirring them around he was about to get in when he remembered the razors tapped to the top of the sink cabinet. He pulled them off and held them in his palm, tracing over them with his finger, careful not to cut himself. The piece of tape held four of them. two boxcutter blades, one from a broken shaving razor and the last was from a pencil sharpener he took apart, the very first time he marred his skin. That blade was dull, had traces of rust on it by now but he had kept it. Of all the ridiculous things he had let himself feel sentiment towards, that sharpener blade had to be the most ridiculous. He looked at it and saw lonely nights and cold days, where the only warmth was when his own blood pooled at the top of his skin. The thought of getting rid of that blade seemed unfathomable…until now. He was sure the feelings would shift day by day, but in this moment he wouldn’t have felt anything if those blades disappeared. For better or worse he would always have the memories they left behind. He put them on the counter and stopped the water before delicately climbing into the tub and leaning his head back to relax.

When John hadn’t heard water running for almost half an hour he grew uneasy but brushed It off. When ten more minutes passed he thought back to Sherlock’s bloody body lying in the bath and quickly moved from his seat, proceeding down the hallway with caution to not alert Sherlock that he thought something was wrong. He knocked at the door and got no answer. He called Sherlock’s name and when there was no reply he turned the knob to find it locked, fear climbed up into his throat and latched onto his voice as he called Sherlock’s name louder and began searching for the bathroom key he hid on top of the door frame. He heard the sound of splashing water and was sure his heart stopped.

“John?”

“Sherlock are you- can I come in?” there was no reply just the click of the door being unlocked. John enter quickly, expecting something that resembled what he saw that night, but there was nothing of the sort. Sherlock looked up at him with eyes that pleaded for an explanation, but the man appeared fine, there was no blood, no drugs or even the smell of a cigarette. “sorry, I called out but- I was worried.”

“ I fell asleep.” His voice was calm, “ sorry to scare you.” He bent his knees and sunk further into the now cooling water.

“mind if I just…stay here a bit.” Johns body was fighting to restore his cardiac and respiratory rate to normal levels. Sherlock just shrugged and began releasing the water in his bath to replenish with warm. John was nearly calm when he saw the blades stuck to the tape on the counter. “ Sherlock, were you going to…where have you been keeping these?”

Sherlock’s eyes opened and he glanced at what John was staring so intensely at, letting out a sigh and cutting the water back off. “they’ve been taped to the top of the underside of the cabinet, and no- I had no intention of using them today. I was actually going to give them to you after I finished up in here.”

“to me?”

“yes, to safely dispose of at the surgery.”

Johns chest swelled with a type of honor that Sherlock trusted him so deeply, and also with pride in his partner, knowing this was not a lightly made choice. “ sure, I’ll do that as soon as I go back next week.”

“join me?” Sherlock looked to John who initially was going to protest, having already showered this morning; but this wasn’t about washing away physical filth. He stripped from his clothes and chuckled at Sherlock’s unashamed staring. He tapped Sherlock’s back to get the lanky man to move forward. He slotted himself comfortably behind Sherlock and held the detective tight against his chest. There was nothing sexual about the act, but there was everything intimate about it. A few months ago a moment like this would have seemed impossible, but here it was happening.

The next day Sherlock was in great spirits, even eager to go to the trial. John was filled with more nerves than maybe any other day, worried Victor wouldn’t be charged appropriately or that Sherlock wouldn’t be believed. Sherlock met with his parents outside the courthouse, his mother doting on him with gentle touches and too many kisses. Mycroft smirked at his little brother squirming under the affection.

When the court was called to session, they began with Emily. Victor was charged with kidnapping, attempted murder, and child endangerment- but the evidence wasn’t found sufficient for child abuse. Sherlock met Emily’s eyes, she gave a smile and a small shrug that seemed to say ‘you can’t win them all.’ When John grabbed his hand he knew it was his part of the case that was about to be given a verdict.

The judge flipped through some papers and stared down the court room directly to Sherlock. “ The court finds Victor Trevor guilty of the charges of domestic abuse made by Mr. Holmes, I have sentenced Mr. Trevor to five years imprisonment for the charge.” There was a pause “unless there is new evidence to be presented, on all charges and degrees of sexual assault the court has found Victor Trevor…” the tension rose so high in the courtroom it felt like you were choking on it. as if all the oxygen molecules multiplied in size and were causing suffocation rather than an aid to breathing. John felt Sherlock’s hand tighten around his own. “ not guilty.”

Audible gasps and whispers began in the courtroom and join felt his blood boil with the increasing noise level. He saw looked up to his partner, his eyes were closed. Perhaps hoping that when he opened them that this would have all been a nightmare, but it wasn’t. The judge called the court to order once more. “ given the allegations happened ten years ago, and the only evidence we have is a doctors note that matches to Mr. Holmes’s testimony; Mr. Trevor can not be held liable without a confession or further evidence. I am willing to reconsider the matter if anyone has additional information.”

The room fell silent once more and Sherlock was already preparing how to exit the building and avoid the reporters. When Lestrade stood from his seat and asked permission to walk forward. “What kind of evidence would be needed?”

“ I cant disclose that.”

Greg cleared his throat and looked to his friends, “ I spent a significant of time with Victor during the search for his sister, both as a budding friendship and an undercover investigation. I saw the plug Sherlock described in his testimony. I can confirm that Mr. Trevor is, without a doubt, a masochist and takes part in acts most humans wouldn’t care to indulge in.”

“ how can you be certain of the plug?”

Greg’s eyes lowered with a touch of shame, “ I went to Victor’s house, before he and I went to Paris and I was searching through his bedroom while he packed. I came across several…sexual items and he caught me. He wasn’t ashamed to tell me about them. he volunteered the information that he had the plug custom made when he was dating some guy in university, it never crossed my mind that man would have been Sherlock. I asked what the remote did, and he had me hold the plug as he hit the first level button on the remote, the electric shock was…incredibly painful. If I recall correctly, that was the first of then levels. Your honor, it’s a very specific thing to have in his possession and for Sherlock to explicitly bring up.”

The judge said nothing.

“I don’t know if this was considered or not, but there was a man found dead in the tunnels of the catacombs a few days after Emily was rescued, he had high strength sedative drugs and needles on him- the kind that would have produced the same effect Sherlock described when he and Bill Wiggins were attacked. We also recovered his phone, he and Victor-”

The judges eye flitted back and fourth between Victor and Lestrade, “ what man? I wasn’t given any reports regarding this.”

“ they should have come from the Paris police.” Lestrade’s tone had turned urgent, now feeling the pressure that he had the power to shift the verdict.

The judge called over one of the attending officers and order the files to be faxed over immediately for examination. “ detective inspector, you may continue while we wait.”

“ right. On his phone, there was a message from Victor, offering a large sum of money to separate Sherlock from somebody- we don’t know whether that was in reference to Miss Trevor or Mr. Wiggins. the text occurred while Sherlock was in the tunnels, these messages were not on Victor’s phone but there was an unread reply from this man to Victor that said something to the effect of, ‘ subtract $200 from that if I can use him the way I used to.’ It didn’t mean much when we read it at the time…obviously it does now.” Greg continued to fill in missing details of what happened while in Paris until he had exhausted everything he had to say. The judge called for a recess wile they waited on the paperwork. For the first time in days Greg was able to talk with his two friends, but the DI had very few words to say. Instead he wrapped his arms around the detective and mumbled apologies. Sherlock tentatively hugged him back with an awkward pat on the back. John shook Lestrade’s hand, waiting for Sherlock to walk away before smiling at the DI, “your drinks at the pub are on me from now on.” The two laughed quietly before exiting the room. John entered the restroom, a scowled when he saw Victor and his accompanying security guard at one of the urinals. He stepped back out to wait for the other man to leave. Sherlock spotted him and invaded his personal space, but John didn’t mind.

“are you okay?” Sherlock’s rich voice filled Johns ears. He smiled slightly at the irony of Sherlock being the one to ask him that question.

John nodded and pulled his detective into a languid kiss. He was sure they looked like a high school couple, desperate to make out in-between classes, but he didn’t care. When Victor exited the bathroom Sherlock tried to pull back, but John held him tighter. He hoped Victor would drown in the sight of the man he had done wrong so at ease in Johns hold.

They entered the courtroom for what was hopefully the very last time. The judge’s desk was void of any papers and she looked more confident than ever. She smacked the gavel on the podium, “ I would like to thank detective inspector Lestrade for making the court aware of the gaps in evidence. I have reviewed the documents and reports and feel certain in the final verdict. I would also like to issue and apology to both Mr. Holmes and Mr. Trevor for the premature sentencing. The verdicts made in the case of Trevor vs Trevor remain the same. In the case of Holmes vs. Trevor…Victor Trevor has been found guiltily of domestic abuse, given the same 5 year prison sentence. Due to newly presented evidence, Victor Trevor will be charged to the highest extent for sexual assault, sentenced to 25 years without possibility of parole.”

Perhaps it would be seen as inappropriate but John couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He comfortingly caressed his thumb over Sherlock’s skin of their intertwined hands.

“ I also will be charging Victor Trevor with emotional abuse, torture, tampering with evidence, and facilitation to prostitution.” Eyes widened around the courtroom, knowing how rare it was for a judge to inflict sentences that weren’t originally tried for. Victor sat nearly unbothered, but it seemed a small dose of reality was beginning to strike him. “ each of those will add an additional five years onto his sentence. All charges combined between miss. Trevor and Mr. Holmes case- Victor Trevor is sentenced to 105 years without possibility of release. This court is adjourned.”

Everyone began to move once more around the large room. Sherlock stood and sought out Victor’s eyes, when they met he held it there and gave a smirk to the strawberry blonde. Eyes not leaving until the handcuffs had been secured around his wrists and he was being led away. He bent and gave a modest kiss to Johns lips as the shorter man pulled him close. “John, I’m hungry.”

The doctor felt himself go cold before warming with accomplishment and pride, “ let’s go eat then. Angelo’s?”

Chapter Text

The night after the end of the trial Sherlock slept like the dead. Crashing into comatose at an early 7 PM and didn’t wake until nearly 1pm the next day. John was sat in their small living room with Sherlock’s parents when he heard the heavy weight of Sherlock’s footsteps padding down the stairs from his room. The detective was visibly still groggy, clad in John’s sweatpants that hung far too loosely on his hips and warm burgundy dressing gown tied securely around him. Mrs. Holmes was quick to be out of her seat and wrapping her son in a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek that left a faint trail of pink lipstick behind. John stood respectfully behind her and smiled when he caught Sherlock’s eyes, almost as if saying, “my turn?”

“what are they doing here?” the baritone voice cut through the flat and John gave a frown of disapproval.

“we wanted to stop by before we head back home.” His mother began, “ and in all the business of the past few days we forgot to invite you and John down for Christmas. You will come wont you?”

The tall man wanted desperately to say no, eager to become a recluse until he felt like not being one again- but the pleading look in his mother’s eyes softened his edges. Besides Christmas wasn’t for another two days, it would give him some time to ease the tensions that still linger inside him. “yes, mummy.” He sighed “ if John is available.” He added, looking to his blogger turned lover.

“he is, we already discussed it.” she laughed, making Sherlock roll his eyes at the trap he just walked into, “ Harry is even going to join us, that will be lovely wont it?”

John made Sherlock tea as he said goodbye to his parents, promising to see them Christmas eve. Once they were gone he leaned against the door, eyes closed and relished the comfortable silence of his once lonely flat that John had turned into their home. There was no more trial, no more explanations to be given, cases to be judged, or details that needed to be unveiled. The only sounds he wanted to hear for the foreseeable future were the organic ones of the life he and John had built. Soft rumbles of cars outside, the dull hum of Ms. Hudson’s vacuuming below them, the inexplicably comforting sounds of John’s presence. The boiling of kettle when he made tea, the soft shuffle of when he shifted in his chair, tiny pecks from the keys of his laptop…all sounds that reminded Sherlock he was only as alone as he wanted to be. He was drawn from his thoughts when John crossed in the sitting area and saw him, “everything alright?” the doctor asked with neutral expression, setting the hot beverage on the coffee table. Sherlock nodded letting John take him in his arms, the weight of the doctors hand rubbing gently down his back.

John knew what Sherlock needed and it wasn’t to be suffocated with praise or physical affection. “I’ll be around, yeah?” Sherlock nodded in a silent and grateful understanding. John brought a hand up to cup the younger mans cheek and pulled him down into a delicate kiss before taking a seat in his chair and unfolding the morning paper. Neither of them said much the entire day, taking solace in the quiet- a refreshing break from the loudness of what their life had felt like for several months. Sherlock stayed to himself mostly, he played his violin in longer sessions than John had heard for months. Some of the pieces may have been ones John had heard before but today they seemed to not bare a weight they had before. The detective would randomly appear by his side, leaning for a kiss, which he was of course given- and then retreating back to whatever he was doing before. John called in Chinese and Sherlock ate without even a flicker of guilt or hesitation.

Night was falling over London, John was sat on the sofa watching some trashy reality show that had recently become his guilty pleasure as he kept an eye on the detective who seemed content to sit at his microscope. Before he knew it he had lapful of lanky detective, dark curls laying against his crème sweater. Sherlock’s face pressed into the softer area of his tummy, inhaling the scent that could only be John. The doctor ran his fingers through the curls and laughed when Sherlock preened into his touch like a cat. They stayed like that for what could have been hours or minutes, time wasn’t relevant for the next few days.

Sherlock was soon feeling overwhelmed with….he wasn’t sure what, he just knew he wanted John closer. In a hasty movement he straddled John’s lap, making his partner laugh and leaned into a lengthy kiss. John’s hands gripped on Sherlock’s waistline, making sure his lover didn’t fall backwards off his lap. Sherlock’s lips were on John’s neck in a change of positions. “ careful, we have to see your parents in two days.” John chided, savoring the low rumble of Sherlock’s laugh so close to his ear. It send a thrill through his body and he fluidly threw Sherlock onto his back and hovered above him, fingers gripping a little roughly in Sherlock’s hair- eliciting a moan from the man under him. He pushed Sherlock’s robe to the side and kissed down the pale chest, carful to only leave marks well below the line of Sherlock’s shirt collar.

“more.” Came a low request from above him. If Sherlock wanted more, it was more he would get. John got off of him and grabbed the musicians hands, roughly pulling him off the couch.

“that wasn’t very gentle of you, Dr.Watson.” Sherlock teased.

John pulled him to his chest, “ I’m not feeling very gentle tonight, Mr. Holmes.” they tumbled through the hallway to Sherlock’s bedroom, pushing one another against the walls and fighting for a sense of dominance-but it always belonged to John. The ex-soldier pulled the tie of Sherlock’s robe and slid it off his shoulders, both stumbling as it pooled at their feet, blocking their path. John picked up Sherlock, throwing him on the bed with a bit of added drama. He stared down at his boyfriend, pupils growing wider with lust as his hand slowly traveled down Sherlock’s long torso. John’s sweat pants had shifted even lower on the detectives hips, revealing the prominent V line that begged for John’s attention. He was trailing his fingers along either side of the V, ghost like touches that left Sherlock wondering if he was imagining them. John pulled the sweats from pale hips that finally looked human. Sherlock’s bones only visible when he arched his back in a way that nearly made John feral. Sherlock felt himself already starting to sweat under John’s attention. When the older man took him into his mouth he couldn’t help the fingers that went to the sandy blonde hair. When he realized what he had done he made a quick apology and removed his hand from John’s head. The blogger hadn’t missed a beat, continuing to trail his tongue over Sherlock’s leaking cock and sinking down on it as far as he could managing without gagging. He felt around the bed for his lovers hand, too consumed with what he was doing to pull off and look where it might have been. When his fingers finally touched Sherlock’s skin he placed the hand back where it had rested on the crown of his head.

The feeling of John’s mouth, hot and wet- mixed with suction and scandalous teases of tongue was begging to grow too much for Sherlock to handle. His chest was heaving and his skin was glistening with sweat. “mmmm, John…” it was meant to be a warning, one John chose to ignore. “ please… I don’t want this to be over.” He panted, and groaned in pleasurable agony when John only bobbed his head faster. Right as the white hot heat blazed within his abdomen John pulled off, ruining the orgasm that was impending. Sherlock grabbed the pillow adjacent to his head and pulled it over his face, muffling the sound of his frustrated and incredibly aroused groan. “damn you, John….” When he heard John chuckle above him he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or find humor in it. His cock was achingly hard and throbbing, sensitive from John’s ruthless teasing and denied relief. He removed the pillow from his face he smiled at John, who was staring at him from the end of the bed. “ why on earth are you still clothed?” he asked, letting his head fall back and reaching to take himself in hand.

John pulled off his jumper, fully aware of Sherlock touching himself as he watched. He tossed the knitted fabric at the detective, making him release the grip on his cock to keep it from hitting his face. Sherlock’s gentle laughter elicited a similar response in John. Unable to hide his fondness for the moment, Sherlock hooked his legs around John’s back and pulled him down on top of him. How different these moments felt compared to the events of his intimate life that had been hashed before the jury in the past few days. To laugh with genuine content, lay physically and mentally naked- completely exposed before another person and not feel a hint of shame or embarrassment. “John..” Sherlock trailed with a tone that really said, “I love you.” The moment of softness was over when John pressed the expanse of his thigh against Sherlock’s straining erection.

Something about the days of the trial had shifted the ex army doctors perception of the detective. He feared after hearing the details of his life before him, he would coddle Sherlock more, treat him even more cautiously than before- but it had the opposite effect. These past days made Sherlock seem far stronger than John had originally thought of him as. It was like an avalanche of awareness when it started to become transparent why Sherlock never wanted to be looked at like he was broken. John thought of himself genuinely unable to take credit for Sherlock’s successes. The man had mended himself, healed his own brokenness in many ways before John had come into the picture. It felt like a privilege to watch Sherlock shapeshift into the near ethereal being that was laying below him.

John kissed the detective HARD, taking even himself as surprise as he licked into Sherlock’s mouth with intensity. Sherlock went to put his hands on either side of John’s face, but the shorter man caught them and pinned them above the dark curls at the top of the bed. He continued grinding his thigh against Sherlock’s member until there was a wet patch of precum making a dark spot on his jeans. John’s own cock was straining painfully against the zipper, but he was unwilling to release Sherlock’s wrists just yet. Biting Sherlock’s bottom lip and pulling off painfully slow, he finally sat back up.

Sherlock’s eyes were dilated, unknown if it was from the slow darkening of the room or complete infatuation for his lover. He watched with focus as John reached down to unzip his jeans and pull himself from his flies. He hoisted Sherlock’s legs over his shoulders, leaning very ungracefully to grab the lube from the nightstand table and beginning to open his boyfriend with his fingers, a little rougher than usual. Sherlock felt John’s fingers scissoring within him, occasionally touching over his prostate, making his whole body tense.

John pushed inside of his body without warning, a groan of pleasure falling from Sherlock’s lips as his hands flew up to grip John’s forearms out of surprise. “mine.” The older man huffed in extasy as he increased his speed, Sherlock velvety walls tightening around his body, slowly bringing him closer to the precipice. John observed the way Sherlock’s hands would tremble as his cock would expertly graze that sensitive bundle of nerves and when he saw Sherlock’s orgasm approaching, with all of his will power he pulled out. Sherlock’s previously hooded eyes shot wide open, “ fuck…what the fuck are you doing, John? Trying to kill me?”

John chuckled, it was the opposite of what he was trying to do…he was trying to make Sherlock feel alive. Bring him to the brink of hypersensitivity over and over again until he could only fall apart at the touch of John’s hands.

After what Sherlock had told him about his time with Victor he didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to take Sherlock on his hands and knees- for his sake, not Sherlock’s- but maybe Sherlock laying on his front would be a suitable alternative. John leaned down close to Sherlock’s ear, tracing the shell of it with the vey tip of his tongue, “ roll over.” And Sherlock did without fuss. The detective relieved to have some kind of consistent pressure on his cock. John smirked out of Sherlock’s view as he watched the younger man roll his hips against the mattress. John finally pulled his trousers and pants down completely and parted Sherlock’s perfect ass, plunging in hard and fast- unknowingly giving Sherlock not only what he wanted, but what he needed. He heard Sherlock moan his name loudly and still beg for more, “ harder, John please, mmm more…”

John pressed the front of his body to Sherlock’s back and plowed into the man with a type of force he hadn’t before. He released all the inhibitions he had in the past about doing something beyond Sherlock’s comfort, he had a renewed sense of trust that the dark haired man would let him know if a boundary was overstepped. Beneath him Sherlock was blissed out, floating in a total state of extasy. His sharp mind failing to remember any word besides John’s name. John snaked his arm beneath Sherlock and took his leaking cock in his hand, beginning to jerk him off in sync with his thrusts. “ whenever you want baby… I wont stop this time.” John panted the promise, feeling his hand slowly become slicker with Sherlock’s excitement. He prayed Sherlock would finish before him, because at this pace he wasn’t going to last much more than a minute. John felt Sherlock’s muscled tighten from inside his body and felt warm ejaculate spilling over his fingers, “ mmm gorgeous, baby….” He growled in Sherlock’s ear and with a few final thrusts he shot his cum deep inside his lovers body. He fell slack against Sherlock’s back, no longer afraid of crushing him. They both laid in silence, save for the sound of them trying to catch their breath. John felt himself coming back to reality and started to move off Sherlock.

“no…stay.” Sherlock mumbled, face slightly squished into the pillow. John didn’t know whether that meant inside him, on top of him, or both. Opting for the safe choice he didn’t move from where he was, only planting kisses near where his head rested on Sherlock’s shoulder.

“that was…different.” Sherlock spoke after several minutes, a small pit of worry forming in John’s stomach. It was almost like Sherlock could feel it, “ good different…very good.”

John sighed in relief, growing uncomfortable atop his lover he rolled onto his side, pulling Sherlock with him into a spooning position. The doctors softening cock was still nestled inside Sherlock’s body, much to the pleasure of the detective. They lay conjoined, both by body and heart until sleep overtook them.

Christmas eve was upon them. the couple arrived at the Holmes’s a few hours before dinner would be served. Sherlock’s mother insisted on her son showing John around the farm, she watched from the kitchen window as the pair walked with gloved fingers intertwined across the property. When they came back inside John helped Sherlock out of the Belstaff and kissed the tip of his nose that had been reddened by the cold, making the detective roll his eyes at the cliched act. The two went off into the small den and pulled two arm chairs near the fire, moving them so that they could face one another as they warmed up. Conversation came easier than ever before, it all seemed to get easier with each day that passed.

In this moment of privacy and sentiment, Sherlock met John’s gaze and held it, looking into the perfect oceanic storm of blue and greys that was John’s eyes. “John I’ve always been a difficult man, I recognize this…and well you’ve known this.” He huffed a laugh and caught the thin smile that tugged at the corners of John’s mouth. “ but since the start of our relationship, I have been even more…” Sherlock, for once seemed lost for words. John leaned forward and look his lovers left hand, clasping it between his own palms. “ things have been challenging, to say the least-” Sherlock continued. “ I need to thank you for what you’ve done. For the sake of brevity I wont list all that you’ve done for me.” John’s chuckle make the lump in Sherlock’s throat fade. The lump was back and threatening tears but Sherlock wasn’t done, “ put your humility aside and understand that I would not be sitting here if it wasn’t for the ways you love me. Without you, my parents would have one less son, Ms. Hudson one less tenant, and god knows how many unsolved cases Scotland yard would have compiled by now.” He joked, making the heaviness of the mood lighten. “ John… you have saved me…in every way that a person can be saved.”

John’s emotions balled up in his throat, knowing he would be unable to give a long winded speech of how Sherlock saved himself and he was merely a supporting role, he settled to reply “you did the same for me a few years ago.” With a soft smile that Sherlock returned. Both men leaned forward slightly for a feather like kiss. John keeping Sherlock hand enclosed in his own. John cleared his throat, “ my turn now, baby,” he said, making sure Sherlock’s eyes never left his. “ nothing about us has been normal, it probably never will- I wouldn’t want it to be. The life that we have created, the memories that we have shared, the love we have grown: all of those things are extraordinary. You, Sherlock, are extraordinary. I said that to you, once many years ago in the back of the cab the first time we ever went out on a case together. I had no idea what I was in for, but I was in it with you and that’s all that mattered. You deduced me from my phone and my haircut and whatever else it was and you captivated me. I called you extraordinary and I meant your mind…but when I say it now- I mean so much more. Sherlock, everything about you draws me in and makes me love you more each day. I watched you die on the pavement of Bart’s and it wasn’t until, what I thought was you, hit that I admitted to myself how I felt about you. I don’t ever want to spend one second more wishing I would have told you how I felt…” John discretely worked the ring he had kept hidden, clasped between his middle and ring finger, between his thumb and forefinger and slid it onto Sherlock’s fourth finger. Only when the metal touched his skin did Sherlock break the hold John’s eyes had on him. “ William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to love you has been the greatest privilege of my life. Will you please do me the honor of letting me continue to love you as my husband?” John still held the detectives hands, but now one finger adorned a simple gold band with small alternating sapphires and diamonds. Sherlock eyes were brimmed with tears, highlighted by the glow of the fire as he fell forward, climbing into John’s lap and wrapping himself around the doctor.

“yes…yes…John, the answer was always yes.” He let a few tears slip, but this time they were ones of undeniable joy. John held him tightly, the way he always had held every part of him. when Sherlock finally unburied his head from the nape of John’s neck they spent the next several moment in a passion filled kiss. “ how…when did you buy this ring?” Sherlock asked, finally observing the beautiful piece of jewelry.

John laughed, “ while you were down in the catacombs.” Sherlock’s head jerked up to meet John’s gaze, “ I was wondering around the city, aimlessly- trying to drown out the thoughts of what might happen to me if I were to lose you…and I decided if you made it out alive I was going to marry you.” John brought the pale fingers to his lips and kissed them. “ after you made it out, there was so much going on- it never really felt like the right moment, so I’ve held on to it for all this time. When your parents came over the other day and you were still asleep, I thought it would be a good time to ask them.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes fondly and scolded, “ John…really? Asking for my hand…”

John could only smile and pulled his now fiancé into a kiss. “ they are waiting on us, by the way, we should probably go tell them the happy news.”

Sherlock’s mouth fell open slightly, “ they knew that’s what you brought me in here for?! How did I not- I always-” Sherlock stumbled, bewildered by his lack of deductions, but John just grinned and kissed him once more. They crossed the threshold into the kitchen where Sherlock’s parents and Harry were waiting with anticipation and even Mycroft couldn’t deny the flickers of excitement he was feeling for his little brother. They were met with hugs and cheers of congratulations, kisses on cheeks and firm handshakes- everything was good.

After dinner, while others were settling into bed John joined Mycroft in the sitting room. The eldest Holmes took one look a the former army doctor and saw a dark intention. “ can I help you, Dr.Watson?”

John smiled slyly and sat down, “ you can, actually. Given you’ve already seen to our previous arrangement…” John waited for Mycroft to nod his head in confirmation, which he did. “and seeing as how you are my future brother in law and the holiday, I have a request for a Christmas present.”

“and why should I grant you this gift?”

“because you once nearly choked me with your umbrella for giving your brother a hickey.” John said with a grin that widened as Mycroft remembered the moment.

“right. What is your request?”

Early the next morning John was dressed when Sherlock was just getting out of their bed. “where are you going?” his groggy morning voice questioned.

“just running an errand with Mycroft. I’ll be back before dinner.” He kissed his fiancé and left the room, leaving no time for Sherlock to bombard him with questions.

Mycroft’s helicopter was landed in the field and ready for takeoff. John and the eldest Holmes climbed aboard and began the hour flight to Sherrinford, a maximum security island that Mycroft arranged for Victor to be sent to serve his sentence at. They landed on the beach and through several security measures before John looked at the security camera that was monitoring Victor’s cell. His lip snarled as an involuntary reaction to the sight of the abuser. He looked at Mycroft, “You know what to say if you need assistance?”

John nodded and walked out of the room. Mycroft watched the security cameras for the soldier to approach Victor’s door and with the press of a button, he let him inside. Mycroft saw the look of dead panned shock on the prisoner’s face before turning his head away from the screens.

Just as John promised, they were back before dinner. John showered and was met by Sherlock sitting on the edge of their bed. The tall man took long strides, making his way to John who took him to his arms. Sherlock leaned down slightly so that their foreheads pressed together and a smile spread across his face, illuminating his eyes. “ John Watson…you are a bad man…and I love you.”

John pulled him down into a kiss, “and I you.”

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My dearest reader,

Where do I begin? The beginning perhaps. I began writing this story at the tender age of 14. Looking back on things now I realize I was far too young to be reading and writing this kind of thing- but hey, weren't we all? No matter how I may cringe when I look back at the first 15 chapters of this story, it was a much-needed escape for me. (TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS NEXT PART, SKIP TO THE NEXT ALL CAPS FOR WHEN IT IS OVER!) It has been noted by some readers that I write topic sensitive scenes with a sense a realism that other aspects of my writing does not have. At 14 I was starving to please. Starving to please other people, shrink myself to society standards, to my own standard, to my so-called friends’ standards…in my mind I have suffered with an eating disorder my whole life. At the age of eight I was far from being morbidly overweight, but I willingly and eagerly let myself be placed onto an adult dieting program. Even before that I was restricting myself from certain foods and hating myself when I looked in the mirror. When I came from a tiny religious school (shocking after reading my smut scenes, I know lol) to a public high school of over 2000 people, I was met with even more beautiful people to compare myself to.

I have been in the SHERLOCK fandom since 2013, and in 2015 -when I started writing this- I was at the peak of self destruction. I was passing out in the school bathroom and acting like everything was fine when I got home. I actively self harmed from 2011- spring 2016.

(TRIGGER WARNING OVER) When I began this story, I took so much of my own pain and projected it onto my character of Sherlock. I wrote John as who I needed someone to be for me. My own portrayal of John became my ‘comfort character’ just as much as Sherlock was my outlet. I made him into someone to share aspects of my pain. Writing this story was such a cathartic feeling for me…until it wasn’t. I met someone who slowly patched all the wounds the world and myself had inflicted upon me and one day I realized that this story was triggering me more than helping me, so I quit it- and I don’t regret that. I fully intended to finish it but I didn’t know that it would be five years later in the middle of a pandemic that I would do so.

When quarantine started for my state, back in march, I re-watched all the Sherlock episodes for the first time in a long time and one night decided to read my old fan-fiction- Starving to Please. I saw the potential that 14-year-old me had created and being nearly 5 years clean, felt removed enough from the situation to continue writing. I felt rejuvenated and inspired to pick this story back up, it gave me a creative outlet and a meaningful way to spend my time while not able to go in public.

SO TO MY READERS-

The biggest reward for me...is seeing how it has affected you all. Whether you relate at all to the characters, or just enjoy the story- seeing the hits number increase and reading comments from you all has seriously brought me so much joy. At the very core of my being all I want to do it help people and make them happy. Even if this story only touched one person, it has all been worth it.
Thank you for your patience, comments, kudos, bookmarks, and for just reading my work- It isn’t said lightly when I say It means so much to me. You all have fueled my love for writing that I feared had died out long ago, but now thrives more than ever. I said it in the bottom notes of the final chapter but I want to welcome you to ask ANY and ALL questions you have about this story. There may come a day when I decide to revisit these specific versions of Sherlock and John, but for now they, along with all of you all, will be lovingly tucked away in my heart and living out their days in peace at 221b Baker Street.

I wish nothing but the absolute best for you all. Know that today you are sat between a story you (hopefully) love and the woman you helped save.

Stay safe and healthy,
Love Always,
Anna xx

NEW STORY UPDATE: I will be posting the first chapter of my new story ‘Suddenly All the Songs Were About You’ on January 15,2021! I will make the announcements on this story and also give you all a preview of the summary a few days before the story comes out! Until then, you can keep up with me on twitter @OhHeyyItsAnna I would love to interact with you all!

Chapter Text

“First day of senior year, man!” Greg enthusiastically clapped his hands down on John’s shoulders. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit excited?”

“yes, yes, I’m excited; just maybe not as much as you,” he laughed, “It’s just another year.”

Little did he know how wrong those words would turn out to be.

When Sherlock's mom is sent to work at a research campus in the southern United States, he is less than thrilled about having to pack their family up. But once his eyes fall on straight football player and high school senior John Watson- he starts to think it might not be so bad.

Chapter Text

Hi friends! hope you are all doing well! This will be the last update to this story before I mark it as completed! Just wanted you all to know that the first two chapters of my new story "Suddenly All the Songs Were About you" are posted! I really hope you all enjoy it!
lots of love,
Anna