Leviticus 20:13

A Favor For A Friend

Sherlock was sitting at the end of the counter and looking rather lonely, sipping at something from a small white mug with a plate full of crumbs sitting next to him. John wandered over almost reluctantly, feeling like he was interrupting Sherlock's serene breakfast only to bug him once more about his daughter's situation. However what else was he supposed to do, it was Sherlock who was invading his territory and it seemed as though the priest had been looking for any excuse to talk to John before, what made this morning any different?
"Sher...Father Holmes." John corrected quickly, trying to smile and look pleasant as he walked up to where Sherlock was seated. Sherlock looked up in surprise, looking almost panicked as he suddenly realized who he was talking to. However he didn't seem to be going through the typical fight or flight reactionary choice, instead he seemed to be in a panic about the state of his hair. He nearly dropped his mug in an attempt to push his curly bangs out of his face, his pale cheeks glowing red for a moment before he was able to relax and force a smile onto his confused face.
"Mr. Watson, I'm sorry, you caught me a bit off guard." Sherlock admitted in a very weak voice, clearing his throat and rearranging his mug in its little white saucer. John had expected him to be drinking coffee, however there was a waterlogged string hanging out of the cup which suggested that Sherlock was in fact drinking tea.
"I'm sorry Father; I didn't want to scare you." John assured, lingering very awkwardly behind the counter while Sherlock muttered his own string of apologies. They really were an awkward pair, especially around each other.
"I wasn't aware that you worked here Mr. Watson, if I had known I would've said hello." Sherlock admitted, sounding legitimately afraid that his obliviousness would be considered rude. John just laughed, shaking his head quickly while trying to think of something to say.
"I'm in the kitchen, there's no way that you would have noticed me. In fact I had only just seen you about five minutes ago; I'm not very familiar with the customers at all." John admitted.
"Oh you're a cook here?" Sherlock asked politely.
"Ya I work the grill, however I see that you enjoyed our baker's work this morning." John muttered, gesturing to the remains of what was probably a blueberry muffin, judging by the bluish tint of the crumbs.
"Oh yes, a wonderful breakfast. I usually don't stop over here, however Father Turner had asked me to pick him up his usual meal since he had early mass, and I decided that I had time to get a quick cup of tea before heading over to the church." Sherlock admitted, gesturing to his nearly empty mug.
"Could I get you some more while I'm up?" John offered quickly, feeling like it was now his responsibility to make sure Sherlock had everything he needed before asking for such a favor.
"Oh no thank you Mr. Watson, I'll be on my way soon enough." Sherlock assured politely, and John just nodded, smiling rather awkwardly.
"You can call me John you know, it's not like we don't know each other." John pointed out, and Sherlock's cheeks tinted red once more. It wasn't all that intimate of a suggestion, however Sherlock seemed a little bit astounded, as if he had never been on a first name basis with anyone before.
"Oh well, yes my apologies, I suppose I am rather formal around parishioners, just so that they see me as a respectable man instead of well, someone like Father Lestrade." Sherlock admitted with a small smile.
"Way to drag him through the mud." John laughed, and Sherlock's smile widened for a moment before he ducked his head away so that John couldn't see him giggle. It was like it was some big secret the he had any human emotions, and he felt the need to hide them from the public as much as possible. That or he didn't think John could handle the radiant beauty of his smile and therefore kept it hidden for as long as possible.
"My apologies." Sherlock said once more. John took a deep breath, trying to hide his obvious distress from the Father but knowing that they were both on something of a schedule here and didn't have too much time for chit chat. He had to ask, he had to get it over with.
"I actually had a question for you, one about Rosie." John said very quickly, and Sherlock sat up a little bit straighter, looking more attentive. John kept his gaze lowered for a moment, trying to think of what to say and how to say it. Surely his delivery would make this go smoother.
"I will answer to the best of my abilities of course." Sherlock promised.
"Well it's not so much of a question, more of a proposal really. I was wondering if you could come to the hospital one night and bless her, or at least do some sort of sacrament, the um...the annoying..."
"The anointing of the sick?" Sherlock guessed, and John nodded rather shyly.
"Ya, that one. I researched it last night, and thought it best since, you know, she doesn't have much time left..." John admitted, keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes while he heard Sherlock take a deep breath in front of him.
"Yes, yes of course Mr. Watson." Sherlock agreed quickly, his voice dropping to a very soft tone, as if he suspected John needed to be talked to as if he were a child.
"Thank you, thank you so much. I don't know if it's going to help save her or not, I just thought it would be best you know?" John muttered quickly, glancing up at Sherlock who was now wearing a curious expression. It wasn't the ever familiar face of pity; it was something more like concern, like care, like commitment. It was almost as if Sherlock suddenly felt obligated to do anything and everything to help care for John and Rosie, it was a fiery sort of promise to try to save the life of a dying girl. And John appreciated that glare, he really did, for once in his life he felt as if someone out there wasn't only willing to help him but they were willing to care as well. Sherlock seemed more human than any of the doctors John had worked with in the past, simply because he wasn't working for the paycheck at the end.
"The anointing of the sick can sometimes be used as a healing tool; however it is usually used to ensure the sick person's place in heaven. By anointing them of their sins they will be cleansed and ready to stand before God." Sherlock admitted softly.
"Whatever works, whatever makes her life or death easier. I just want to help her the best I can." John admitted quietly.
"And I will help you, of course I will. I gave you my word before and I don't intend on breaking it." Sherlock assured determinedly, sounding more like a passionate relative than a total stranger who hadn't even met Rosie before.
"I appreciate your help Father, I really do, I'm sorry if..." John muttered quickly, and yet Sherlock only shushed him with a mere gesture, pressing one of his fingers very lightly to his own lips and yet effectively silencing John all together. A very odd sort of feeling passed through John as their eyes met, and he was sure Sherlock felt it as well, a sort of electric static moving through not only his body but his soul as well, feeling as though his brain had turned on the internal radio only to play purely static. Slowly Sherlock let his finger slide from his lips, and John took a sharp breath that he was sure Sherlock and the rest of the diner could hear.
"There's no need to apologize Mr. Watson." Sherlock muttered, and John could only nod weakly, caught in a very strange state of paralysis. It was almost as if Sherlock had put some sort of curse on him, and his mere presence and very odd sense of dedication had somehow left John completely motionless, as if he hadn't just stared into Sherlock's eyes but Medusa's as well. Sherlock just smiled at him, sipping the last of his tea before sliding effortlessly off of his chair and collecting a plastic bag filled with to go containers, presumably Father Turner's breakfast.
"I must be going, however. Would you like me to come to the hospital tomorrow night?" Sherlock offered kindly. John nodded, taking a breath and suddenly flinging himself back into the world of reality.
"Yes, yes tomorrow night would be perfect. Shall I meet you at the church then?" John asked hopefully.
"That would work certainly, I can request off of mass and we could leave sometime around four?" Sherlock suggested hopefully.
"Perfect, that way I'm off work." John agreed. "She'll be happy to meet you I'm sure; I'll tell her all about you when I see her tonight."
"Only good things I hope?" Sherlock asked with a bit of a teasing smile.
"Yes of course Father, I'm afraid I haven't found any negatives." John assured, feeling his cheeks blush a little bit when he realized just how that sounded. Sherlock, however, chuckled pleasantly, as if he was both amused and flattered.
"You're too nice Mr. Watson." He muttered with a smile. John didn't know how to respond to that so he simply smiled, glancing at Sherlock very quickly as if trying to ensure they didn't share too much unnecessary eye contact.
"I'll see you at four tomorrow then." John decided finally, and Sherlock simply bowed his head in agreement.
"I look forward to it Mr. Watson. John." he corrected finally, and John smiled in agreement.
"See you then." John agreed in a small voice, and with that Sherlock simply nodded in farewell, turning on his heel and walking out of the diner with very straight posture, as if he were walking over the red carpet instead of some nasty checkered tiles that must've been older than both of them combined.