Dr. John Watson thirty-four years old got shot in his shoulder during an army training after struggling with a depression. He decided to study Dutch for a new army training that he was planning to do. That's where he met Sherlock Holmes, his new par...
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Sherlock was still standing at the table, phone firmly in his hand. His bright green eyes were frozen, blinking very little. He felt his heart breaking in small pieces already. He took in a calming breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.
"Sherlock what's going on?" John said, pushing himself upright, looking at Sherlock with concern. When Sherlock asked him, who Jim Moriarty was. He really didn't know who it was. Yes they met last night during the 'appointment', but he didn't remember anything. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders up, tilted his head and looked at John briefly and then he gazed away.
"Who's Jim?" He asked again, quietly, his voice trembling.
"I don't know? Why?" He asked, walking over to Sherlock and laid his hand on Sherlock's shoulder as he tried to look at the phone. Sherlock immediately turned away, shrugging John's hand away and gazed out the window with hard, stony eyes. He pursed his lips, trying to suppress the emotions boiling inside him. John was clearly confused, he didn't know what was happening.
"Sherlock?"
"Look at your phone." He muttered, blinking back tears that were forming in his own eyes and started to make his way to his bedroom. John reached for Sherlock's arm to stop him. John sighed and unlocked his phone, scanning the text.
~ Hello John, Thank you for last night. I really had fun. I want to ask you if you want to make a new appointment, same hour, tomorrow? I do hope you had fun too. See you soon. Jim. X x ~
"What the hell." John muttered under his breath. He then looked over at his hand that still was clutched at Sherlock's arm. He looked up into Sherlock's eyes, furrowing his brows at the sign of a heart broken Sherlock. He suddenly remembered the activities from last nights in the surgery with Jim. "Sherlock." He sighed. "It's not what you think." He said softly, walking closer. Sherlock took a step away from him.
"No John. It's exactly what I think." He said crudely, slamming John's hand away. "You said you didn't know Jim."
"Not at first but-"
"Stop lying." He retorted.
"Listen to me, Sherlock." John pleaded, stepping closer to Sherlock.
"I didn't think you would be the cheating type."
"I am not cheating on you!" John rarely yelled at Sherlock, "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"
"The prove is in my hand." Sherlock pointed out.
"Sherlock, please."
"I recently told my brother something I never thought I would say, 'I'm happy brother.' He was in shock at first. But he then smiled softly at me, leaving me with an understanding shoulder pat." Sherlock said, his voice was no louder than a whisper and it took all his self-control to not fall through his knees and sob.
"I know how it feels to be hurt. Remember what happened with Mary? I was lost, Sherlock. I had nobody and then I met you. You changed my life. Do you think I want to throw that away?" Sherlock chuckled dryly, Tears streaming down his cheeks.
"So you're sick of me, then. Is that it?"
"No, of course not," John murmured, his eyes softening. Sherlock sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before letting them fall to his sides limply.
"I need to..." He trailed off, wandering to his bedroom, John following behind.
"Sherlock. At least let me say what happened last night," John said, rubbing hopelessly at his temples. How could this happen, he didn't know this person. They were in the same room for a minute. Sherlock refused to listen, he closed his bedroom door behind him, locking it for in case John wanted to come inside. What he was planning to do. John took a deep breath, as he hovered outside the closed bedroom door. Sherlock inside, probably curled up in their sheets on the bed as he did his best to shut out the world and everyone in it, including John.
It's been nearly an hour since Sherlock had holed himself in there, ignoring John's 'please come out so we can talk' sentences. Another hour later, John turned the doorknob and was pleased to find that Sherlock had unlocked it sometime within the last 30 minutes or so. And he pushed the door open carefully. He peeked his head around the wood of the door and saw the lump that was curled up on his side of the bed. Sherlock.
"Sherlock." John asked quietly. Sherlock grunted, which is the most he had spoken to John in hours. John closed the door behind him, and he then climbed on the bed, beside Sherlock who was covered with the sheets. John crossed his legs under him and raised his left hand to slide the sheets down, making Sherlock's face visible. Sherlock tensed, but his eyes remained closed.
"Sherlock, please." he murmured, dipping his head to bury his face into the back of Sherlock's neck. "Please look at me." He pleaded. Sherlock did as he's told and the mattress underneath them moved as Sherlock turned his body around, shifting positions to face him. He's been crying, John could tell, and the thought broke John's heart.
"Sherlo-"
"I don't want to lose you." Sherlock admitted. His eyes were wet with tears and his cheeks are pink and he can't stop his bottom lip from quivering.
"You will never lose me." John said softly, tears filling in his eyes.
"Then why do you m-"
"Sherlock stop it!" John hissed. "I'll sent a text to that man, okay?" Sherlock just rolled with his eyes as a tear was running down his cheek. "I know you don't trust people fast, due what happened with you in the past. But please Sherlock..." He said as he started writing a text to Jim. "You have to trust me." He added.
For appointments you have to phone the surgery. Do not use this number or Sherlock's for contacting me, thank you. This number is for my private life. And I don't think I can call last night as 'fun'. And I am not available tomorrow. -JW
John sent, hoping that Jim will sent back immediately. Because he didn't want to wait hours to show Sherlock the proof. John was slowly caressing Sherlock's arm, which Sherlock approved. His eyes were closed and he was weeping slightly. He never cried for another human. But John Watson was his life savior. Without John there is no Sherlock, and Sherlock knew that. Sherlock eyes fluttered open as he heard John's phone. John bite his lips as he heard the nose and he opened the text with hope that Jim replied normal. Maybe he was tipsy when he wrote the previous message. Sherlock was observing John's reaction on the text.
"What did he say?" Sherlock muttered.
"It's... not him." John lied, his voice trembling.
"Give me the phone." Sherlock demanded.
You are very adorable, writing so professional to me. If you don't have time on the surgery, we can always meet somewhere else, so we can finish what we started. Jim Xx
"I see." Sherlock shot him a look, a mixture of hurt and disbelief.
"No no no no." John started to freak out. "Sherlock, stop it, stop this. This guy is trying to-"
"Trying what John? You said you don't 'know' him. Do you think a total stranger knows so much about us and plans to break our relationship?" Sherlock spat at him, tears dropping from his eyelashes and running down his cheeks.
"Yes!" John cried out, getting desperate. Sherlock stepped out of the bed, sniffing.
"Don't follow me, John." He choked. And then he hurried away, out of 221b bakerstreet.
