Hot Diggity Dog Sherlock Fanfic

Lie to Me

John had to laugh when Sherlock and Mycroft slipped on their Choir Robes; Sherlock caught the contagion and laughed with John as he twirled around in his robe. “Oh for God’s sake, stop it,” Mycroft snapped, causing Sherlock and John to laugh more. Everyone quieted down as the choral director entered the room. John took one look at the choral director’s stern countenance and ran out of the room to join the Mom in the bleachers outside. “There is such a big crowd here,” John thought as he climbed gingerly up the bleachers to where the Mom sat. It was with relief that he sank down next to her on the narrow slat that someone had the nerve to call seating.

The Mom patted John on the knee and said, “All you alright, honey?”

John nodded and didn’t tell her about the melancholy that churned around in his stomach, it felt like a ball of acid. John rubbed his abdomen and frowned.

“Jean, do you need to go home?” The Mom asked again.

John shook his head. “Fine, then you had better stop frowning. You are going to get wrinkles.”

John smiled and looked off in the distance, “Too late,” he said softly.

The Mom was about to ask another question, when to John’s relief the Choir Members filed out on to the little stage on the field. After a few numbers John felt sleepy and was just about to lean his head on the Mom’s shoulder for a nap, when the Mom nudged him awake. “Jean, don’t go to sleep, look.”

John looked to where the Mom pointed and much to his surprise Sherlock and Mycroft came and stood in front of the Choral Group. The piano player gave Sherlock and Mycroft a pitch and then Sherlock’s clear, sweet voice filled the field with the beautiful haunting melody, “Come Thou Fount of Blessing.” John closed his eyes as Mycroft joined Sherlock in perfect harmony, the choir joined them and after the song the crowd erupted in enthusiastic applause. Then came the piece de résistance, Sherlock singing “ O Mio Babbino Caro,” his  voice so pure so pristine, made John’s stomach pain worse and all of a sudden he had to run. Excusing himself John made his way down the treacherous stadium seating and ran like he had never run before. His feet pounded along the ground as he ran like a frightened animal from a raging fire. When John reached the park on Main Street, he promptly threw up in the nearest trash can. The snow cone man rolled his slightly, squeaky cart on the outside of the park and when he turned around, John gasped, for staring at him was not the benevolent snow cone man, but the monovalent Moriarty. John stood frozen to the spot too terrified to move, as the squeaky cart moved slowly towards him. John was just about ready to bolt again when the image of Moriarty faded away and the caring face of the snow cone man looked into John’s eyes, “Jean, are you okay?”

John nodded but walked in a daze down the street, for the free floating anxiety he had often felt back home attacked him in this time like a vengeance. The sounds around him seemed magnified, cars sounded like fighter jets, birds like shrieking parrots in a zoo, and his own heart hammered in his ears like a pair of Kyoto Drums. By the time John walked down Ninth Street towards Cuddles’ house, he was nauseous and his clammy hands shook as he wiped them dry on his skirt. John looked up at the rose covered trellis that shed its protection over a small white picket fenced gate and as he gazed up into the dense rose bush foliage a rose bud fell in a circular pattern towards the ground. John watched its slow descent in horrified fascination. It circulated through the air for a moment and then fell at John’s feet in a lifeless, dried piece of waste. John bent down to pick it up and as the brittle petals filled his hand they crinkled into little pieces that blew away in the wind, “The East Wind,” John thought in despair and then jumped when he heard a whining noise through the gate. John’s movements were spastic as they always were when free floating anxiety attacked him. His body jerked as he saw Cuddles’ dog, Prince, through the gate. Prince was a half Collie, half Chow mix and he wagged his tail, as John smiled at the pink lipstick mark on the white spot on his head where Cuddles had kissed him. John reached out to pet him and then took his hand back for Prince was a clever dog that used his innocent Collie markings to fool many a trespasser. Prince was well known to bow his head down and wag his tail, and just as an individual got to the no return portion of the walk way, Prince would block their way and then chase the duped individual towards the gate. Then Prince’s Chow side would come to light as he would delightfully bite the unfortunate person. It had gotten so bad that Cuddles’ parents had been forced to move the mail box on the outside of the fence.

John looked into prince’s loving brown eyes, and then John cautiously reached his hand towards Prince and as his fingers entwined around the soft brown and white fur around Prince’s neck, he knew that the dog was not going to bite him. As if in a trance, John stood up, opened the gate and sat down and wrapped his arms around Prince’s neck. He could feel his anxiety melt away as John buried his face in Prince’s mane. “Good boy,” John whispered as he patted Prince on the neck. “You know just how I feel don’t you?” John said, and as he told Prince all of his troubles, John felt his heart rate slow to its normal rhythm, until he was no longer nauseous and afraid. By the time Cuddles, Toots, Mycroft and Sherlock reached Cuddles’ house, John was happily playing catch with Prince.

As Sherlock, watched John play with Prince, he felt a sense of foreboding and sadness. He had brought such grief and worry into John’s life, that it would have been better if they had never met. Mycroft watched Sherlock, watching John and wanted to say something to make the situation better, but could think of nothing, and so they all watched John play with Prince.

Later in the evening as they all lay in their beds, John got up and ran into the bathroom to throw up several times. Sherlock listened to John’s retching, thinking that if he just lay there quietly, it would stop.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft whispered. “Go to him, reassure him, and tell him everything is going to be okay. You know what free floating anxiety is like, brother mine.”

“So, you want me to lie to him? After all it is my fault he is suffering. Why should he listen to me?” Sherlock snapped as he turned his back on Mycroft.

“Sherlock, John was a broken person when he met you, so lie to him. Tell him everything is going to be okay. Give him some peace of mind, if only temporary.” Mycroft said as he lit a cigarette.

Sherlock watched as the glow from the match momentarily illuminated Mycroft’s expressive eyes, he seemed so…so vulnerable. Just as Sherlock was about to study Mycroft further, Mycroft blew out the match, ending any speculation that Sherlock might have gleaned from the moment. Sherlock sighed and got out of bed making his way towards the bathroom. He tapped softly on the door and then opened the door to reveal John kneeling beside the toilet.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry did I wake you?” John asked in a soft whisper.

Sherlock shook his head and soaked a washcloth in cold water and bent down and put it on John’s forehead.  “John,” Sherlock began as he put another cool washcloth on John’s neck. “John, I’m not sure why you’re not feeling well, but everything will be okay. I’m not going anywhere. If we all stick together, we will be fine, and I am learning to be more well…human, right?”

John turned his tear stained face towards Sherlock, “Do you promise?” John asked as his bottom lip trembled.

Sherlock held out his arms, “Come here you,” Sherlock said as he hugged John. “Everything will be fine, pinky swears,” Sherlock repeated with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Now, let’s go to the kitchen and get some saltines and club soda. By the way, you seemed to be having a great time with Prince today. Should I ask the Mom if we can get a dog?” Sherlock asked as he helped John downstairs, for he was still shaking so bad John could barely walk.

Once they were downstairs in the kitchen, Sherlock did impressions of Ricky Ricardo and Lucy, so that John was soon laughing uncontrollably.

John finally stopped laughing and smiled at Sherlock, “Thanks, Sherlock, it’s just that I was so afraid, alone and I thought I saw Moriarty today.”

Sherlock nodded, “John, you are wrong, it’s okay.”

“You mean it wasn’t Moriarty?” John asked.

Sherlock smiled and glanced at the ground and then up at John, “I don’t know if you saw Moriarty or not, all I know is that you’re not alone, so don’t be afraid.”

Like a small child John smiled and ate his crackers and drank his club soda.