Dangerous Love

chapter 4 - John's POV

John couldn't believe Sherlock Holmes was crying. Sherlock Holmes, the proclaimed high functioning sociopath. The man who was more robot than man. The whole reason Sherlock was crying was a reason that wasn't worth the waterworks.

John knelt down by Sherlock. Sherlock seemed like he couldn't look John in the eyes. John put his hand under Sherlock's chin and pushed his head up so Sherlock could look at John.

Sherlock was staring at John. John could see the pain in his eyes, the sadness over the cup breaking. It was a simple cup.

"Sherlock? What's the matter? It's just a cup. It really isn't that big of a deal."

"J..J..John, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to break your cup. The tea spilled on my arm and I dropped your favorite cup. I'm sorry."

Sherlock dissolved into tears, sobbing. John couldn't understand why Sherlock cared so much about a cup. In fact, Sherlock cared more about that cup at this time, then when his mother was in the hospital.

John started to think. He was thinking about how Sherlock had been so kind to him recently. He never made John tea. Sherlock never did anything to show emotion. Nothing like this. John thought about the violin music he had heard while John was sobbing in the shower. He had never heard such emotion poured into the violin.

Suddenly it hit John. It was for a case. A case, maybe. That would make the most sense.

"Sherlock, is this for a case? Because if it is, tell me. I need to know what's going on."

Sherlock just shook his head. He didn't say a word. He just shook his head vigorously.

"Sherlock, is this for a case?" John asked once more. Hoping that this was, because if it was for real, John would be heartbroken.

Sherlock again shook his head vigorously.

"Sherlock what's wrong? What's wrong Sherlock?"

Sherlock didn't answer. It seemed as if though he couldn't. He stood up, wiped his eyes, then wiped his hands on his shirt. John picked up the broken cup and led Sherlock downstairs into the kitchen. He had Sherlock sit down.

John threw away the cup and sat down by Sherlock. John tried to think of the right words to say. But after a minute of thinking, John just blurted out what he was thinking.

"Have I done something Sherlock? Have I? Because if so, I need to know so I can change. Is something going on with you? You seem tense and not your normal self. You've been acting really kind lately. And I just don't understand. I miss the old Sherlock. This isn't you. Sherlock, let me help you."

John took Sherlock's hand to comfort him. Sherlock tensed up and John let go of his hand.

"John", Sherlock started to say, "John, this isn't for a case. Yet something much more important. And you won't understand why, not for a long time. But know that it isn't your fault."

And with that, Sherlock got up and went to his bedroom, shut the door. He didn't lock it like he normally did, maybe he wanted John to come in and say that it's going to be okay. John never knew what Sherlock wanted. But he wished he did know what was going on in that brilliant mind of his. John could never know, because Sherlock didn't even know what was going on in his mind.

John pushed in his chair and went to his chair in the living room. He sat down and tried to process what had happened. It was only 10 in the morning and yet, so much had happened.

John sat in his chair, watching the telly. The news mostly. Nothing could keep his mind off what could possibly going on in Sherlock's room.

What John didn't realize is that the note that Sherlock was trying to perfect, was the worst note of his life. And the worst thing ever, is that John would hear the words and not read them.