Fic: No Matter (How much you’ve changed I’ll still love you) 2/15
Title: No Matter (How much you've changed I'll still love you)
Author: Altezio
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Pairing: John/Sherlock w/ side pairings along the way
Rating: Pg-13 - NC-17
Chapters: 2/15
Chapter word count: 3,555
Disclaimer: I won nothing but the plot. I am just playing in the wonderfully provided sandbox with the wonderful characters.
Warnings: Post S2E3, mentions of drug use, mentions of abuse, swearing, eventual m/m relationship, sex, and slash. More warnings as the story goes along.
Summary: It had been five months since Sherlock had walked off the roof, and John was trying to move on with his life. But then he finds Sherlock laying nearly dead in the gutter on night, and takes him home. But Sherlock isn't the same, and its Johns job to find him again and bring him back.
Chapter Two
Breathe
It had been two days since John had found Sherlock laying in the middle of the alley, and the younger man had yet to wake up. John had stayed awake most of those two days, not wanting to be asleep when Sherlock finally woke. Every once in a while he would take little cat naps, but that wasn't working as well as it had when he had first started doing this. Letting out a breath, he laid back and looked at the sleeping man. He was still incredibly pale and sick looking, but John could already see some improvement. The bruises on his body-except the ones from under his eye's-had already started to fade, turning from the blackish purple color to a nasty shade of yellow. His cuts were starting to heal up better, and he didn't have a fever anymore.
The doctor was sure he was going to wake up soon, and while he was excited at the prospect of having Sherlock back, he was worried about what kind of emotional damage had been done to the man. John was just making guesses as to what happened to him, but he wanted to know what really happened and how he had gone spiraling down so fast and far.
Sighing again, John relaxed back into his chair, and folded his arms in front of his chest. He could feel his eye's drooping but he didn't really care. Sherlock would wake up eventually but he highly doubted it would be the one time he actually decided to take a nap that lasted longer than a couple minutes. Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He repeated the process a couple times before he actually nodded off.
-x-
Sherlock's eye's fluttered open slowly. When the light hit his irises, he squeezed them shut with a soft groan. After a moment he opened them again, trying to get them adjusted to the light. When it didn't hurt so much he looked around the room he was in. It wasn't the same room he had fallen asleep in…then again he hadn't been in a room when he fell asleep so that was a bit off putting. She shifted slightly, but let out another soft groan. Everywhere hurt more than he had remembered it. Closing his eyes he drew in a couple of deep breaths before opening them again.
His eye's scanned the room and after a moment realization dawned on him. He was back at 221B Baker Street. How he had gotten there was beyond him, but he was there, and laying in his old room. Slowly-as to now elicit more pain-he rolled over and looked around. The room was a lot more cluttered than it had been when he had left, but that was probably due all his personal belongings being stores in here. His eye's moved around the room until they finally landed on John who was resting-quite uncomfortably looking-on a chair that had been dragged in here sometime in the last couple of days.
Blinking slowly Sherlock stared at John, taking in everything and burning it into his memory. John had changed since the last time they had seen each other. John looked older, and more worn. He briefly wondered what could have caused it, but as quickly as the thought entered his mind so did the answer. It had been his fault that John now looked a few years over his age. If he hadn't have jumped of the roof the new lines that had made their selves comfortable on his face would never had been there…then again if Sherlock hadn't have jumped John would be dead, and there was a very high possibility that Sherlock would have been too.
Sherlock pulled the blanket closer around him and watched John as he slept for a few minutes longer. Saying he hadn't missed 221B would have been a lie…than again Sherlock didn't think it was really the flat that held his attention as much as he liked to believe. He had learned a lot of things about himself in the months he had been dead.
He didn't know how long he watched John sleep, but finally the doctor stirred. His eyes fluttered open and he stared straight ahead of him for a moment before turning and looking at Sherlock. He must not have really seen him because he immediately turned back, his eyes wide, and a look of relief on his face. Jumping up he crouched down beside the bed and stared at Sherlock, his mouth working furiously trying to say something. Sherlock hadn't realized how much he had missed John until that moment. He twitched the other man a slight smile and shifted slightly. He tried to hide the wince, but John knew him to well and looked him over with a critical eye.
"You're awake," he said when his eyes finally landed on Sherlock's again.
"I am," he croaked back. It had been a long time since he had said anything and while it hurt it was nice to talk to John again.
John shook his head, "Of course you had to pick the first time I actually decided to take a real nap." He laughed humorlessly, and sighed, "You've always kinda went by the beat of your own drum haven't you." The smile fell of his face moment later as he got into doctor mode, "how are you feeling Sherlock?" he asked him finally.
Sherlock considered the question for a moment. He probably could get away with not telling John the truth, but he didn't want to risk lying and getting caught, so he opted with the truth, "I feel…out of sorts I guess…like I'm not really all here."
John nodded, and pushed Sherlock's bangs out of his face. He felt his forehead with the back of his wrist and nodded to himself. "Alright, now how's the pain on a scale of 1-being the lowest-and 10-being the highest."
Again Sherlock considered the question. He was in a mild amount of pain, but he could ignore it if he stayed still. Now that he was really and truly awake he could feel the itch that he had felt all too recently. He needed his fix. If he was back at Baker Street that meant there was no way for him to get it unless he snuck out and got it. But by the way John was watching him that didn't look very likely. He would have to find a way to get it somehow or he was going to die.
John watched Sherlock as he considered the question. It had been a long time since he had seen Sherlock, but he could still read him better than most everyone-the exception being Mycroft. The look on his face told him there was something else that he was considering, and if John had to guess it was probably cocaine. He had seen plenty of cocaine addicts in his line of work, and John could easily tell when they needed their fix. It was early for Sherlock, usually John had to deal with them when they were so desperate they would do anything.
"Sherlock?" he said his voice gentle.
Sherlock looked at John and stared at him for a long moment before finally speaking, "My pain is around a 3." He said.
John stared at his friend for a long moment before shaking his head, "Sherlock don't lie to me. You can lie to just about anyone else but don't lie to me. I can see it in the way you're holding your body. You're in pain. So don't lie. How bad is your pain?"
"It's manageable."
John folded his arms in front of his chest and scowled at the other man. They stared at each other for a long while before Sherlock finally looked away. John smiled and sat back, "It's alright Sherlock. You don't have to lie to me."
The doctor watched as the blankets were pulled a little bit tighter around the younger man. Sherlock stared of in to space for a moment before looking back at John, "My body hurts." He said after a moment. "I feel raw, and stretched, and in pain."
John nodded, "I can give you something for that. It's not much-since we aren't at a hospital, but it will take the edge off."
Sherlock just nodded and watched as John stood up and walked out of the room. Sherlock thought about making his escape so he could find his fix, but there was something holding him there. Maybe it was John, maybe it was the thought of a warm place to stay again that made him decide not to run, he would think about it when John wasn't walking back into the room with a couple pills in his hand.
The younger man winced slightly as he shifted, but held out his hand despite the pain. John gave him a disapproving look, but dropped the pills into the outstretched hand. He watched as Sherlock popped the pills and swallowed them dry before sitting down and staring at Sherlock. They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts. John was thinking about what how to ask him all the questions he had been dying to ask, while Sherlock was trying to figure out the reason he hadn't just left the moment he had woken up, and what he was currently feeling.
Finally John could take it no longer. "Sherlock, why did you do it? why did you not tell anyone you were alive?" he paused for a moment, "Why did you let it get this bad?"
"I don't understand what you mean." Sherlock said after a moment.
"I mean why did you let it get to the point where you fell back into you're addiction. I thought you said you were clean."
The younger man couldn't help but feel shame. He had known John probably knew about his recent fall back into drugs. What kind of doctor would he be if he had just passed over the obvious marks on his arms? "I…I don't know." That was another lie. He knew exactly how he had gotten to the point he was at. He had been bored, and there was no one to keep him in line so he went out and easily found some of the drug that had probably been the thing that ruined his life. From there it had just gone downhill. Only when he was bored turned in to an almost everyday thing and so on and so forth till finally he just didn't care anymore, he would have done…he had done anything to get his next fix and he hadn't cared.
John shook his head and leaned back in his chair, "Sherlock."
Sherlock looked back at John, his eyes filled with so many emotions John didn't know what exactly he was looking at. The younger man was silent for a moment before finally saying, "It was inevitable John."
-x-
Sherlock hadn't stayed awake for very long, but John had managed to get something in his stomach. Sure it was just a couple of saltine crackers, but that was something and in Johns eyes that was progress. Now that he was sure Sherlock wasn't ever going to wake up, John decided it would be fine to sit in the main room and watch a bit of telly. His attempts though fell flat, as what Sherlock said swam around in his mind.
Sherlock thought falling back into his old habits was inevitable? But why? He didn't really understand why he had done it in the first place, but in the next couple of weeks he was going to have to. He knew he was going to have to delve into the mind of Sherlock anyways, but he hadn't thought it was going to be this soon…or this difficult!
Oh well. He would deal with all of this when Sherlock woke up again. For right now, he would just lose himself in the telly.
-x-
"-lock…SHERLOCK!"
Sherlock blinked and looked around the small room he was in. It was very cramped, with a desk to one side a bed on the other and a small tv that was sitting on a dresser. Finally his eyes landed on the man who had been trying to get his attention only moments ago. What was is name again Jason? Jeremy? No…no it was Joe. Joe was watching him with a raised brow, and his arms folded in front of his chest.
"You want to do this Sherly? Or are you chickening out."
Sherlock shook his head, his dark curls bouncing as he moved. Under normal circumstances he would never be caught dead doing this, or being anywhere near here, but things were different now, and he needed his fix. "I need this."
Joe smiled and nodded shifting his posture a bit, "that's what all of them say." He laughed. Sherlock swallowed hard and trying to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Joe was tall-taller than him-with dull blond hair, and hard green eyes. His muscular body was lines with bruises, and old scars that Sherlock could only imagine came from fights.
Sherlock wasn't intimidated by many people because he knew he could take most anyone who came at him, but this man had an air about him, that made Sherlock a little weary.
The other man walked towards the bed, coming to a stop between Sherlock's legs. He stared down at the younger man for a moment before leaning down and pressing his lips against Sherlock's. Never in his life had Sherlock wanted to throw up. Joe tasted like something old, and rancid. He wanted to push Joe off him, but then the chances of him getting what he came for was gone, and he would have to find another way of getting it.
Swallowing back the bile that threatened to come up, he opened his mouth and let Joe's tongue enter his mouth. After a moment Joe pulled back and raised a brow, "Kiss me like you mean it," he said before capturing Sherlock's lips again.
Sherlock closed his eyes and pressed against Joe. The kiss was slow and sloppy, but grew as Joe crawled onto the bed, pinning Sherlock beneath his larger body. Sherlock pulled his face away and let out a breath as the larger man kissed down the side of his neck. His hands pushed up under his shirt, making Sherlock shiver in disgust.
Joe pulled away slightly and chuckled, "Never had a virgin before." He laughed against Sherlock's neck, "I'll try not to hurt you, but I make you no promises."
Another wave of nausea bubbled in Sherlock's gut. He knew why he was doing this, but the logical part of his brain-the part he had worked so hard to shut down-was screaming at him to get out of here. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Joe wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulled him up against his chest. "Are you ready for me Sherly?"
"No." Sherlock shook his head, "No, no, NO!"
"Sherlock!"
Sherlock opened his eyes and sat up, not caring about the pain, "NO!"
John put a hand on Sherlocks chest to stop him from moving any more than he had to. "Sherlock, Sherlock calm down. You're alright. Your safe, calm down."
The younger man tangled his hands in his hair and brought his knee's up so he was curled up a little more. "Nonononono,"
John stared at Sherlock , his eyes clouded with worry. What had made Sherlock act like this? What had his dream been about? He went to touch the other man, but as soon as he saw the hand coming towards him he jerked away. Curling his hands, John pulled away and settled for just watching him. He wanted to help, but it looked like there would be way until Sherlock let him.
The doctor listened as Sherlock's breathing evened out and the panicked look faded away. "Are you okay?"
Sherlock shook his head and laid down on the bed. Slowly John reached down and pulled the blanket over Sherlocks trembling body, his hand gently brushing over Sherlocks back. When he didn't immediately pull away, he took it as a good sign and began rubbing small soothing circles into the other man's back.
"What was that about?" he asked softly, "You were freaking out."
"Nothing John,"
"Sherlock…"
"It was nothing."
John wanted to scream at the younger man not let shut him out, but he knew that would do nothing for him so he sighed and leaned back a bit, "Alright." He started to stand up to leave-thinking Sherlock wanted to be alone-but before he could even get halfway up a hand came and grabbed at his sleeve. Jumping slightly John looked down to see Sherlock holding the fabric and tugging on it slightly.
"Don't leave," he whispered softly, his blue gray eyes looking up at John.
The raw emotion in Sherlock's made Johns breath catch, and his heart ache a little bit. He didn't know what had happened to change Sherlock so drastically, but the more he saw what had happened to him the less he really wanted to know.
John shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, "I won't," he whispered, "I'll stay as long as you need me."
Sherlock watched him, his eyes full of doubt before adjusting his grip on the cuff of John's sleeve. I drew in a deep breath and let it slowly letting his eyes fall shut. John watched as his chest rose and fell before pushing his black hair out of his face and rubbing his cheek soothingly. "What happened to you Sherlock?" he asked.
-x-
Mycroft stared into his brother's room, a scowl on his face. "I thought you said he was awake," He said looking over at John.
"He was," the doctor replied, flipping a page in the paper, "but he's still recovering so see needs a lot of sleep."
The older Holmes glared into the room again. He wanted to talk to his brother, to make sure he was really alright. He was mad, but he wanted Sherlock to be alright, and he would kill anyone who hurt him. He watched Sherlock as he slept for a moment longer before turning to John. "You care for him…more than in a friend sort of relationship."
John tried not to bristle at the comment, but he couldn't help it. At the way Mycroft nodded, he had seen it too. "And?"
"And nothing," He said looking back at Sherlock, "It's the only reason I've allowed him to stay here."
"What do you mean?" He snapped, the paper forgotten and being crushed in his hands.
"I mean Mr. Watson that I want the best care for my brother. No matter what kind of problems Sherlock and I may have I still love him and want only the best for him. If you didn't care for him the way you do I would have taken him and had one of my doctors treat him."
"You're not taking him away from here."
Mycroft raised a brow and grinned, "Oh I wouldn't dream of it Mr. Watson. That would be suicide." He looked back at Sherlock, "The fact that he's stayed is testament that he cares for you as well."
John glanced in the direction of Sherlock's room, "I don't understand."
Mycroft gave John a look that resembled one that Sherlock had given him on many occasions when john wasn't as fast to pick up on what Sherlock was trying to tell him. "If Sherlock didn't care for you in any way he would have left. In this type of situation he would do anything for drugs. I when I say anything I do mean anything. "
The doctor hadn't thought of that, and in all honest he felt rather stupid for not thinking of it before. Most drug addicts would have found some way or another out and by now Sherlock could have gotten out of the house, and been halfway around London by now. But he had chosen to stay. A twinge of hope bubbled in John's chest, but he pushed it down not wanting to over think things. He would deal with this when he had to, but not a moment sooner. "Oh…"
"Just some food-for-thought." Mycroft said folding his arms in front of his chest. "Well I had better be off. Do let me know when he wakes up. I have to speak with my little brother when he is a little more coherent."
John nodded and watched as Mycroft made his way down the stairs and out of the house. Sighing he leaned back in his chair and unwrinkled the paper and flipped it back open, trying not to think of what Mycroft had said to deeply. He couldn't let more emotion fill his mind.
TBC…
A/N: So Sherlock woke up…What did you all think? Thank you for all the feedback it was really wonderful and really appreciated
all mistakes are mine and will be fixed on a later date
Author: Altezio
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Pairing: John/Sherlock w/ side pairings along the way
Rating: Pg-13 - NC-17
Chapters: 2/15
Chapter word count: 3,555
Disclaimer: I won nothing but the plot. I am just playing in the wonderfully provided sandbox with the wonderful characters.
Warnings: Post S2E3, mentions of drug use, mentions of abuse, swearing, eventual m/m relationship, sex, and slash. More warnings as the story goes along.
Summary: It had been five months since Sherlock had walked off the roof, and John was trying to move on with his life. But then he finds Sherlock laying nearly dead in the gutter on night, and takes him home. But Sherlock isn't the same, and its Johns job to find him again and bring him back.
Chapter Two
Breathe
It had been two days since John had found Sherlock laying in the middle of the alley, and the younger man had yet to wake up. John had stayed awake most of those two days, not wanting to be asleep when Sherlock finally woke. Every once in a while he would take little cat naps, but that wasn't working as well as it had when he had first started doing this. Letting out a breath, he laid back and looked at the sleeping man. He was still incredibly pale and sick looking, but John could already see some improvement. The bruises on his body-except the ones from under his eye's-had already started to fade, turning from the blackish purple color to a nasty shade of yellow. His cuts were starting to heal up better, and he didn't have a fever anymore.
The doctor was sure he was going to wake up soon, and while he was excited at the prospect of having Sherlock back, he was worried about what kind of emotional damage had been done to the man. John was just making guesses as to what happened to him, but he wanted to know what really happened and how he had gone spiraling down so fast and far.
Sighing again, John relaxed back into his chair, and folded his arms in front of his chest. He could feel his eye's drooping but he didn't really care. Sherlock would wake up eventually but he highly doubted it would be the one time he actually decided to take a nap that lasted longer than a couple minutes. Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He repeated the process a couple times before he actually nodded off.
-x-
Sherlock's eye's fluttered open slowly. When the light hit his irises, he squeezed them shut with a soft groan. After a moment he opened them again, trying to get them adjusted to the light. When it didn't hurt so much he looked around the room he was in. It wasn't the same room he had fallen asleep in…then again he hadn't been in a room when he fell asleep so that was a bit off putting. She shifted slightly, but let out another soft groan. Everywhere hurt more than he had remembered it. Closing his eyes he drew in a couple of deep breaths before opening them again.
His eye's scanned the room and after a moment realization dawned on him. He was back at 221B Baker Street. How he had gotten there was beyond him, but he was there, and laying in his old room. Slowly-as to now elicit more pain-he rolled over and looked around. The room was a lot more cluttered than it had been when he had left, but that was probably due all his personal belongings being stores in here. His eye's moved around the room until they finally landed on John who was resting-quite uncomfortably looking-on a chair that had been dragged in here sometime in the last couple of days.
Blinking slowly Sherlock stared at John, taking in everything and burning it into his memory. John had changed since the last time they had seen each other. John looked older, and more worn. He briefly wondered what could have caused it, but as quickly as the thought entered his mind so did the answer. It had been his fault that John now looked a few years over his age. If he hadn't have jumped of the roof the new lines that had made their selves comfortable on his face would never had been there…then again if Sherlock hadn't have jumped John would be dead, and there was a very high possibility that Sherlock would have been too.
Sherlock pulled the blanket closer around him and watched John as he slept for a few minutes longer. Saying he hadn't missed 221B would have been a lie…than again Sherlock didn't think it was really the flat that held his attention as much as he liked to believe. He had learned a lot of things about himself in the months he had been dead.
He didn't know how long he watched John sleep, but finally the doctor stirred. His eyes fluttered open and he stared straight ahead of him for a moment before turning and looking at Sherlock. He must not have really seen him because he immediately turned back, his eyes wide, and a look of relief on his face. Jumping up he crouched down beside the bed and stared at Sherlock, his mouth working furiously trying to say something. Sherlock hadn't realized how much he had missed John until that moment. He twitched the other man a slight smile and shifted slightly. He tried to hide the wince, but John knew him to well and looked him over with a critical eye.
"You're awake," he said when his eyes finally landed on Sherlock's again.
"I am," he croaked back. It had been a long time since he had said anything and while it hurt it was nice to talk to John again.
John shook his head, "Of course you had to pick the first time I actually decided to take a real nap." He laughed humorlessly, and sighed, "You've always kinda went by the beat of your own drum haven't you." The smile fell of his face moment later as he got into doctor mode, "how are you feeling Sherlock?" he asked him finally.
Sherlock considered the question for a moment. He probably could get away with not telling John the truth, but he didn't want to risk lying and getting caught, so he opted with the truth, "I feel…out of sorts I guess…like I'm not really all here."
John nodded, and pushed Sherlock's bangs out of his face. He felt his forehead with the back of his wrist and nodded to himself. "Alright, now how's the pain on a scale of 1-being the lowest-and 10-being the highest."
Again Sherlock considered the question. He was in a mild amount of pain, but he could ignore it if he stayed still. Now that he was really and truly awake he could feel the itch that he had felt all too recently. He needed his fix. If he was back at Baker Street that meant there was no way for him to get it unless he snuck out and got it. But by the way John was watching him that didn't look very likely. He would have to find a way to get it somehow or he was going to die.
John watched Sherlock as he considered the question. It had been a long time since he had seen Sherlock, but he could still read him better than most everyone-the exception being Mycroft. The look on his face told him there was something else that he was considering, and if John had to guess it was probably cocaine. He had seen plenty of cocaine addicts in his line of work, and John could easily tell when they needed their fix. It was early for Sherlock, usually John had to deal with them when they were so desperate they would do anything.
"Sherlock?" he said his voice gentle.
Sherlock looked at John and stared at him for a long moment before finally speaking, "My pain is around a 3." He said.
John stared at his friend for a long moment before shaking his head, "Sherlock don't lie to me. You can lie to just about anyone else but don't lie to me. I can see it in the way you're holding your body. You're in pain. So don't lie. How bad is your pain?"
"It's manageable."
John folded his arms in front of his chest and scowled at the other man. They stared at each other for a long while before Sherlock finally looked away. John smiled and sat back, "It's alright Sherlock. You don't have to lie to me."
The doctor watched as the blankets were pulled a little bit tighter around the younger man. Sherlock stared of in to space for a moment before looking back at John, "My body hurts." He said after a moment. "I feel raw, and stretched, and in pain."
John nodded, "I can give you something for that. It's not much-since we aren't at a hospital, but it will take the edge off."
Sherlock just nodded and watched as John stood up and walked out of the room. Sherlock thought about making his escape so he could find his fix, but there was something holding him there. Maybe it was John, maybe it was the thought of a warm place to stay again that made him decide not to run, he would think about it when John wasn't walking back into the room with a couple pills in his hand.
The younger man winced slightly as he shifted, but held out his hand despite the pain. John gave him a disapproving look, but dropped the pills into the outstretched hand. He watched as Sherlock popped the pills and swallowed them dry before sitting down and staring at Sherlock. They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts. John was thinking about what how to ask him all the questions he had been dying to ask, while Sherlock was trying to figure out the reason he hadn't just left the moment he had woken up, and what he was currently feeling.
Finally John could take it no longer. "Sherlock, why did you do it? why did you not tell anyone you were alive?" he paused for a moment, "Why did you let it get this bad?"
"I don't understand what you mean." Sherlock said after a moment.
"I mean why did you let it get to the point where you fell back into you're addiction. I thought you said you were clean."
The younger man couldn't help but feel shame. He had known John probably knew about his recent fall back into drugs. What kind of doctor would he be if he had just passed over the obvious marks on his arms? "I…I don't know." That was another lie. He knew exactly how he had gotten to the point he was at. He had been bored, and there was no one to keep him in line so he went out and easily found some of the drug that had probably been the thing that ruined his life. From there it had just gone downhill. Only when he was bored turned in to an almost everyday thing and so on and so forth till finally he just didn't care anymore, he would have done…he had done anything to get his next fix and he hadn't cared.
John shook his head and leaned back in his chair, "Sherlock."
Sherlock looked back at John, his eyes filled with so many emotions John didn't know what exactly he was looking at. The younger man was silent for a moment before finally saying, "It was inevitable John."
-x-
Sherlock hadn't stayed awake for very long, but John had managed to get something in his stomach. Sure it was just a couple of saltine crackers, but that was something and in Johns eyes that was progress. Now that he was sure Sherlock wasn't ever going to wake up, John decided it would be fine to sit in the main room and watch a bit of telly. His attempts though fell flat, as what Sherlock said swam around in his mind.
Sherlock thought falling back into his old habits was inevitable? But why? He didn't really understand why he had done it in the first place, but in the next couple of weeks he was going to have to. He knew he was going to have to delve into the mind of Sherlock anyways, but he hadn't thought it was going to be this soon…or this difficult!
Oh well. He would deal with all of this when Sherlock woke up again. For right now, he would just lose himself in the telly.
-x-
"-lock…SHERLOCK!"
Sherlock blinked and looked around the small room he was in. It was very cramped, with a desk to one side a bed on the other and a small tv that was sitting on a dresser. Finally his eyes landed on the man who had been trying to get his attention only moments ago. What was is name again Jason? Jeremy? No…no it was Joe. Joe was watching him with a raised brow, and his arms folded in front of his chest.
"You want to do this Sherly? Or are you chickening out."
Sherlock shook his head, his dark curls bouncing as he moved. Under normal circumstances he would never be caught dead doing this, or being anywhere near here, but things were different now, and he needed his fix. "I need this."
Joe smiled and nodded shifting his posture a bit, "that's what all of them say." He laughed. Sherlock swallowed hard and trying to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Joe was tall-taller than him-with dull blond hair, and hard green eyes. His muscular body was lines with bruises, and old scars that Sherlock could only imagine came from fights.
Sherlock wasn't intimidated by many people because he knew he could take most anyone who came at him, but this man had an air about him, that made Sherlock a little weary.
The other man walked towards the bed, coming to a stop between Sherlock's legs. He stared down at the younger man for a moment before leaning down and pressing his lips against Sherlock's. Never in his life had Sherlock wanted to throw up. Joe tasted like something old, and rancid. He wanted to push Joe off him, but then the chances of him getting what he came for was gone, and he would have to find another way of getting it.
Swallowing back the bile that threatened to come up, he opened his mouth and let Joe's tongue enter his mouth. After a moment Joe pulled back and raised a brow, "Kiss me like you mean it," he said before capturing Sherlock's lips again.
Sherlock closed his eyes and pressed against Joe. The kiss was slow and sloppy, but grew as Joe crawled onto the bed, pinning Sherlock beneath his larger body. Sherlock pulled his face away and let out a breath as the larger man kissed down the side of his neck. His hands pushed up under his shirt, making Sherlock shiver in disgust.
Joe pulled away slightly and chuckled, "Never had a virgin before." He laughed against Sherlock's neck, "I'll try not to hurt you, but I make you no promises."
Another wave of nausea bubbled in Sherlock's gut. He knew why he was doing this, but the logical part of his brain-the part he had worked so hard to shut down-was screaming at him to get out of here. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Joe wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulled him up against his chest. "Are you ready for me Sherly?"
"No." Sherlock shook his head, "No, no, NO!"
"Sherlock!"
Sherlock opened his eyes and sat up, not caring about the pain, "NO!"
John put a hand on Sherlocks chest to stop him from moving any more than he had to. "Sherlock, Sherlock calm down. You're alright. Your safe, calm down."
The younger man tangled his hands in his hair and brought his knee's up so he was curled up a little more. "Nonononono,"
John stared at Sherlock , his eyes clouded with worry. What had made Sherlock act like this? What had his dream been about? He went to touch the other man, but as soon as he saw the hand coming towards him he jerked away. Curling his hands, John pulled away and settled for just watching him. He wanted to help, but it looked like there would be way until Sherlock let him.
The doctor listened as Sherlock's breathing evened out and the panicked look faded away. "Are you okay?"
Sherlock shook his head and laid down on the bed. Slowly John reached down and pulled the blanket over Sherlocks trembling body, his hand gently brushing over Sherlocks back. When he didn't immediately pull away, he took it as a good sign and began rubbing small soothing circles into the other man's back.
"What was that about?" he asked softly, "You were freaking out."
"Nothing John,"
"Sherlock…"
"It was nothing."
John wanted to scream at the younger man not let shut him out, but he knew that would do nothing for him so he sighed and leaned back a bit, "Alright." He started to stand up to leave-thinking Sherlock wanted to be alone-but before he could even get halfway up a hand came and grabbed at his sleeve. Jumping slightly John looked down to see Sherlock holding the fabric and tugging on it slightly.
"Don't leave," he whispered softly, his blue gray eyes looking up at John.
The raw emotion in Sherlock's made Johns breath catch, and his heart ache a little bit. He didn't know what had happened to change Sherlock so drastically, but the more he saw what had happened to him the less he really wanted to know.
John shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, "I won't," he whispered, "I'll stay as long as you need me."
Sherlock watched him, his eyes full of doubt before adjusting his grip on the cuff of John's sleeve. I drew in a deep breath and let it slowly letting his eyes fall shut. John watched as his chest rose and fell before pushing his black hair out of his face and rubbing his cheek soothingly. "What happened to you Sherlock?" he asked.
-x-
Mycroft stared into his brother's room, a scowl on his face. "I thought you said he was awake," He said looking over at John.
"He was," the doctor replied, flipping a page in the paper, "but he's still recovering so see needs a lot of sleep."
The older Holmes glared into the room again. He wanted to talk to his brother, to make sure he was really alright. He was mad, but he wanted Sherlock to be alright, and he would kill anyone who hurt him. He watched Sherlock as he slept for a moment longer before turning to John. "You care for him…more than in a friend sort of relationship."
John tried not to bristle at the comment, but he couldn't help it. At the way Mycroft nodded, he had seen it too. "And?"
"And nothing," He said looking back at Sherlock, "It's the only reason I've allowed him to stay here."
"What do you mean?" He snapped, the paper forgotten and being crushed in his hands.
"I mean Mr. Watson that I want the best care for my brother. No matter what kind of problems Sherlock and I may have I still love him and want only the best for him. If you didn't care for him the way you do I would have taken him and had one of my doctors treat him."
"You're not taking him away from here."
Mycroft raised a brow and grinned, "Oh I wouldn't dream of it Mr. Watson. That would be suicide." He looked back at Sherlock, "The fact that he's stayed is testament that he cares for you as well."
John glanced in the direction of Sherlock's room, "I don't understand."
Mycroft gave John a look that resembled one that Sherlock had given him on many occasions when john wasn't as fast to pick up on what Sherlock was trying to tell him. "If Sherlock didn't care for you in any way he would have left. In this type of situation he would do anything for drugs. I when I say anything I do mean anything. "
The doctor hadn't thought of that, and in all honest he felt rather stupid for not thinking of it before. Most drug addicts would have found some way or another out and by now Sherlock could have gotten out of the house, and been halfway around London by now. But he had chosen to stay. A twinge of hope bubbled in John's chest, but he pushed it down not wanting to over think things. He would deal with this when he had to, but not a moment sooner. "Oh…"
"Just some food-for-thought." Mycroft said folding his arms in front of his chest. "Well I had better be off. Do let me know when he wakes up. I have to speak with my little brother when he is a little more coherent."
John nodded and watched as Mycroft made his way down the stairs and out of the house. Sighing he leaned back in his chair and unwrinkled the paper and flipped it back open, trying not to think of what Mycroft had said to deeply. He couldn't let more emotion fill his mind.
TBC…
A/N: So Sherlock woke up…What did you all think? Thank you for all the feedback it was really wonderful and really appreciated
all mistakes are mine and will be fixed on a later date