Be My Starlight

I Need You

(John POV)

     My cell buzzes, waking me abruptly. The glow of the screen makes me squint my eyes shut again, cursing when I see who is texting me.

     I need you John, hurry please. @ Mycroft's. -SH

     What's wrong? -JW

     I want to do it again John. Help me. -SH

     I throw on a pair of clothes, sliding my tennis shoes onto my feet. My cell buzzes a few more times, Sherlock is getting impatient.

     I'm on my way over. -JW

     Please hurry. I need you. -SH

   I'm worried now, he doesn't use his cell often. I get a call while I'm pulling my bike out of the stand, I answer to find its Sherlock again. 

     "Sherlock?"

     "Are you almost here?"

     "I'm on my way over right now. Are you okay?"

     "No."

     I start riding faster, pedaling as fast as I can while holding my cell. Mycroft's flat was about eight minutes by car, it takes me fourteen to get there. 

     "Sherlock, are you still there? "

     "Yeah."

     His voice cracks as he speaks.

     "Hey, I'm here let me in."

     I jump off of my bike, letting it clatter onto the pavement. The door opens to reveal a panicked Sherlock. He pulls me inside, bolting the door behind us.

     "Sherlock, look at me."

     He raises his head to face me, tears falling from his eyes. He hasn't taken anything yet thankfully. I open my arms and he falls into me. We sit on the couch as he explains what happened last night. He winces when I shift, most of his weight being forced onto his right hand. I notice the way he springs back up, holding his hand oddly. 

     "What happened?"

     "Dislocated it last night, when I... fell. It's fine, just hurts."

     "Have you taken anything for the pain yet?"

     "I took something a few hours ago. Mycroft wont tell me where the rest is though."

     He curls back against my side, sliding under my arm. I take his injured hand in mine, trying to be as gentle as I can. 

     "What are you doing? That hurts John."

     "I know Little Otter, I just need to make sure you didn't re injure it."

     Sherlock lets me finish inspecting his hand, drawing in a sharp breath when I move it. The area is swollen and red, the heel of his hand is bruised. I can tell he is in pain though, so I tell him to go wake Mycroft. I walk into the kitchen and grab him a bag of ice, holding it on his wrist when he comes back into the room. He sits on the counter, irritating Mycroft, but isn't told to move down. 

     "When did you come over?"

      "Sherlock texted me. I got here about twenty minutes ago."

      Mycroft takes Sherlocks hand out from under mine, holding it gently in his. Sherlock stays silent for most of this time, not letting the tears that well up in his eyes fall. He does reach out to take my hand in his free one, squeezing it hard whenever Mycroft does something.