Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles - A Johnlock Story

Adrenaline

Sherlock' POV

It had been years since I had a blackout, where I didn't remember parts of the day merely because I was depressed. But somehow, I'd had one, and couldn't remember a single thing from the cab ride home up until John had helped me into bed. That was at least an hour of lost memory, the cab had gotten stuck in traffic, or at least I think.

I'd fallen into a dreamless sleep in Johns arms, but when I woke, he was no where to be seen. "John?" I rasped, my throat sore from crying so much last night. Footsteps padded toward the door a few seconds later. "Sherlock, hey love," he said softly, bringing two cups of coffee with him. He smiled gently at me, and handed me one of the cups. I took it as he settled on the bed beside me. "How are you doing?" I took a sip of the coffee as he sat. Black with two sugars, just how I like it. "A bit better, I think," I gave him a small smile. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then rested his own against it.

"I'm so sorry love, I should've known, I mean, Mycroft told me for a reason, so that I can help you, and I didn't do that, I'm so sorry." His eyes were closed, his face scrunched a bit in thought. Kissing him lightly to get his attention, I squeezed his hand. "You've done everything I could have asked you, darling. I don't quite remember all of yesterday," I paused when I saw the pure confusion on his face. "Yes, I used to have these blackouts, where I get depressed to the point where I blackout. It hasn't happened in years though. Don't worry, it shouldn't happen again," he pulled back to look at me, processing the information.

"Christ, Sherlock, I'm so sorry, why didn't you tell me?" John asked, his lips scrunched to the side in the adorable manner of his. "It hasn't happened in ten years, I didn't think it was necessary," I said quietly, avoiding his sad and loving gaze. "Is there anything that made it happen after so long?" He asked, trying to work out the best way to help me.

It was kind really, and quite endearing, but I didn't know. I shrugged to indicate that, and he nodded. I leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms back around me. My head was nuzzled into John's neck and his head rested on top of mine. My phone buzzed quietly to signal an incoming text. I grabbed it from the bedside table, and read the text. Lestrade had sent me a text, wishing a quick recovery from the illness I'd come down with yesterday. I raised one eyebrow at John, who was reading text over my shoulder. He shrugged, looking back up at me.

"I texted him that you weren't feeling well, and that you weren't gonna work on the case yesterday. Actually, that brings up a good question, do you still want to work on this case, love? I don't know if it would really be the best of ideas, given what happened yesterday." Worry clouded his stormy blue grey eyes. He ran his thumb absentmindedly over my knuckles as we sat talking. "Yes, it's an interesting case, and one that I'd like to continue working on. And I'm fine, I promise," It wasn't a total lie, I was mostly fine. He sighed, seeing right through it.

"Sherlock, it's okay to admit that you're hurting, you know. You don't need to act so strong all the time." I shook my head, biting my lip. I really did want to continue to work on the case, it was the most interesting one we'd had in awhile. And I had John, I'd be fine. "I really like this case, I want to continue working on this one," I insisted.

"Okay, but not today, okay? Give yourself at least one more day, and if you change your mind and you don't want to work this one, then just tell me," I sighed, not really content with that answer, but ultimately giving in. "Alright, fine, but tomorrow," I gave in. John rolled his eyes, smiling. "We'll see, love." I chuckled as I slipped into a set of clothes, even though we probably wouldn't be leaving the flat. I could feel John's gaze on me as I changed. I turned around smirking. He quickly looked away, scratching the back of his neck. He knew he'd been caught.

John's POV

I sat back as Sherlock changed, watching the way his body moved. God, he was just gorgeous, the things I'd do to him... I was broken out of my train of thought when he turned around, fully aware of my gaze. (AN: THIS WILL NOT BE SMUT, THERE WILL NOT BE SMUT IN ANY OF MY WORKS, BUT THIS IS A MAKE OUT SCENE, SO IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT, THEN SKIP TO THE NEXT AUTHORS NOTE) He smirked as I averted my gaze, and scratched the back of my neck. I cleared my throat, and tried to get up, but not before he had crossed the room. Suddenly his lips were on mine, and I was knocked back on the bed.