Small Signs of Security
Notes: About exactly one year ago I found this list of prompts. I wasn't planning on filling this particular one (no. 42), but then I saw a comment on Tumblr about how all S/L/J fics turned into just S/J and I thought "Challenge accepted!" This was the first time I tried to write a poly relationship (I just never got around to finish it).
Summary: When Greg gets hurt during a chase John and Sherlock react very differently, but at the same time very similarly.
”Are you out of your mind?” Sherlock yelled, waving his arms around as to get his point across better. “What did you think you were doing? You’re not thirty anymore, you know. You’re not even in your forties! For the love of God, you’re fifty-two, Greg!”
John just barely noticed Sherlock’s loud monologue as he was crouching next to Greg who was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall of a building. Greg’s face was ash grey, his eyebrow was bleeding plentifully - because that’s what eyebrows do - his shoulder was dislocated and John was pretty sure there was a break somewhere in the lower arm, but Greg was conscious and alive. Which was all that really mattered.
“You’re all right,” John whispered as he tried his best stop the bleeding. “You’re all right. Maybe concussed. I can’t tell, it’s too…. You’re…. God, Greg.”
John kissed Greg’s temple, whispering against his skin: “You idiot, you can’t do that again. I’m prepared when Sherlock does things like this, but I can’t have you both getting yourselves…. Do you hear me? You can’t do this.”
Greg took John’s hand, but didn’t have the strength to squeeze it. John squeezed it in his stead, turning to Sherlock who had moved on from taking his panic and fear out on Greg and was now yelling at poor Donovan and the back-up team.
“Sherlock,” John tried. “Sherlock! SHERLOCK!”
Sherlock paused and turned to them.
“He’s all right,” John said, nodding reassuring to calm Sherlock down. “He’s all right. It’s a cut that looks worse than it is, a dislocated shoulder and perhaps a fracture.”
Sherlock just looked at them, mouth slightly opened and his eyes completely lost.
“He’s all right, I promise,” John said, turning to Greg. “Tell him that you’re all right.”
“I’m all right,” Greg said, sounding even surer than John, and even put on a smile.
Sherlock nodded, then he just turned and walked away.
“Sherlock! Come back here! ” John yelled.
“Let him go,” Greg said, just barely audible this time, closing his eyes. “He’s…. Let him go.”
John shook his head, moving one of his hands from Greg’s eyebrow to gently rest on his neck instead.
It made Greg opened his eyes again. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” John said, forcing a smile. “But it’s okay. Just survive.”
Donovan came walking up to them, hesitantly and clearly not comfortable with the sudden insight she’d just had in her boss’ personal life. “An ambulance is on its way.”
“Good. Thank you,” John said, nodding. “Did you see which way Sherlock went?”
“No.”
“He’ll be back,” Greg said when Donovan walked away.
“Yeah.” John kissed Greg’s temple again just as the ambulance drove up. “And then I can kill the both of you.”
Greg smiled. “I can live with that.”
“What did I ever do to deserve the both of you?” John mumbled, reluctantly giving up his spot next to Greg so that the paramedics could get a chance to assess the situation. Soberly John told them about his own findings and conclusions and waved off the woman who wanted to look at his own scratches.
Before he jumped up the back of the ambulance he looked around one last time to see if he saw Sherlock anywhere, but the detective seemed to have disappeared completely.
-x-
Sherlock came to the hospital only minutes after they had taken Greg to X-ray his arm. John had been with Greg when they had popped the shoulder back in and when they had stitched up the wound, but when Sherlock found him he was sitting in the waiting lounge, drinking tea from a paper cup.
“Hi there,” John said, smiling wearily and reaching for Sherlock.
Sherlock took his hand. “They said they’ve taken him to x-ray.”
“Yeah.” John put down the tea, pulling Sherlock in front of him so that he could rest his head on Sherlock’s stomach. “He’s fine. Three stitches. Nothing more serious than….” His voice broke and he let go of a trembling breath.
Sherlock started to fiddle with John’s hair. “Does he have to stay the night?”
John shook his head. “I can’t see a reason why they would hold him, but we’ll have to see what they say.”
“I’m sorry I… left.”
“It’s all right,” John whispered, raising his arms to hug Sherlock’s waist. “You’re here now.”
“Have you let them take a look at you?” Sherlock asked.
“It’s just scratches.”
“John.” Sherlock’s voice was stern, making John look up at him.
He smiled. “I’m fine, Sherlock. But I swear the two of you will be the end of me.”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, studying John’s face, then he just nodded and went back to fiddling with John’s hair. John leaned against Sherlock’s stomach again and closed his eyes. Soon enough there would be news about Greg.
-x-
Sherlock stood in the doorway, watching John help Greg undress. He had done it many times before, but Greg’s cast and bandage made the process slow and inconvenient. It had nothing of their usual fire or passion. The only thing that remained the same was that John’s hand constantly went to Greg’s neck.
“You’re lingering,” Greg said, looking past John at Sherlock.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” John said, taking his eyes from Greg for possibly the first time since they got home. “You can come in.”
“I know.”
John smiled briefly before turning his attention back to Greg. “I’ll get you that water, all right?”
Greg nodded. On his way out the room John stopped in the doorway, giving Sherlock’s upper arm a quick encouraging stroke before walking downstairs.
“Sherlock.” Greg sat down on the bed and patted on the spot next to him. “Get in here.”
“Do you need anything?”
Greg shook his head. “Our doctor has taken care of most things.”
“John says we’ll be the end of him,” Sherlock said, finally entering the room.
“Really?” Greg laughed softly. “To me he said he’d kill us.”
Sherlock smiled, standing in front of Greg, plucking imaginary dust from his hair. “Are you in pain?” he asked.
Greg shook his head. “Not much.”
“I’m sorry I left.”
“Don’t worry about it. I had John,” Greg said. “Did you catch her?”
“No.” Sherlock snorted. “Having you being rushed off in an ambulance is rather distracting.”
“Sorry about that.”
Sherlock just snorted again. Greg put his good hand on Sherlock’s hip, stroking him gently with his thumb, and they both smiled.
“What did I miss?” John asked as he came back with Greg’s water glass.
“Nothing,” both Greg and Sherlock said.
“Right,” John said, holding out the glass for Greg. Greg stroked Sherlock’s hip one last time before reaching for the glass.
Both John and Sherlock watched him as he took a first sip of water. He looked suspiciously between them and lowered the glass. “God… I’ll have you both in bed tonight, won’t I?”
John looked at Sherlock, who nodded barely noticeable without taking his eyes off Greg.
“Well, I’m not sleeping in the middle,” Greg said.
“Yes, you are,” Sherlock said. “It’s your punishment for being an idiot.”
Greg gave John a pleading look, but John chuckled. “Don’t look at me. You know the rules: when Sherlock wants to join us in bed, we listen to him and let him set the boundaries.”
“That doesn’t apply now,” Greg moaned.
“Perhaps I want to punish you too,” John said, smiling, as he leaned in and kissed Greg. “I’ll go and fetch some more pillows.”
Greg sighed dramatically. “I hate you both.”
“Obviously,” Sherlock said. Greg couldn’t keep his played upset demeanour anymore and smiled at them as they prepared the bed so that the three of them could spend the night there.
Soon they were all tucked in, Sherlock on the right, Greg in the middle and John on the left side. Sherlock was plucking at Greg’s hair again and Greg and John had taken a firm hold of each other’s hands as soon as they lay down. They all knew they wouldn’t get a lot of sleep tonight, the bed wasn’t made for three grown men, but for the first time tonight all three of them managed to relax. At the moment that was far more important than sleep.
Summary: When Greg gets hurt during a chase John and Sherlock react very differently, but at the same time very similarly.
”Are you out of your mind?” Sherlock yelled, waving his arms around as to get his point across better. “What did you think you were doing? You’re not thirty anymore, you know. You’re not even in your forties! For the love of God, you’re fifty-two, Greg!”
John just barely noticed Sherlock’s loud monologue as he was crouching next to Greg who was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall of a building. Greg’s face was ash grey, his eyebrow was bleeding plentifully - because that’s what eyebrows do - his shoulder was dislocated and John was pretty sure there was a break somewhere in the lower arm, but Greg was conscious and alive. Which was all that really mattered.
“You’re all right,” John whispered as he tried his best stop the bleeding. “You’re all right. Maybe concussed. I can’t tell, it’s too…. You’re…. God, Greg.”
John kissed Greg’s temple, whispering against his skin: “You idiot, you can’t do that again. I’m prepared when Sherlock does things like this, but I can’t have you both getting yourselves…. Do you hear me? You can’t do this.”
Greg took John’s hand, but didn’t have the strength to squeeze it. John squeezed it in his stead, turning to Sherlock who had moved on from taking his panic and fear out on Greg and was now yelling at poor Donovan and the back-up team.
“Sherlock,” John tried. “Sherlock! SHERLOCK!”
Sherlock paused and turned to them.
“He’s all right,” John said, nodding reassuring to calm Sherlock down. “He’s all right. It’s a cut that looks worse than it is, a dislocated shoulder and perhaps a fracture.”
Sherlock just looked at them, mouth slightly opened and his eyes completely lost.
“He’s all right, I promise,” John said, turning to Greg. “Tell him that you’re all right.”
“I’m all right,” Greg said, sounding even surer than John, and even put on a smile.
Sherlock nodded, then he just turned and walked away.
“Sherlock! Come back here! ” John yelled.
“Let him go,” Greg said, just barely audible this time, closing his eyes. “He’s…. Let him go.”
John shook his head, moving one of his hands from Greg’s eyebrow to gently rest on his neck instead.
It made Greg opened his eyes again. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” John said, forcing a smile. “But it’s okay. Just survive.”
Donovan came walking up to them, hesitantly and clearly not comfortable with the sudden insight she’d just had in her boss’ personal life. “An ambulance is on its way.”
“Good. Thank you,” John said, nodding. “Did you see which way Sherlock went?”
“No.”
“He’ll be back,” Greg said when Donovan walked away.
“Yeah.” John kissed Greg’s temple again just as the ambulance drove up. “And then I can kill the both of you.”
Greg smiled. “I can live with that.”
“What did I ever do to deserve the both of you?” John mumbled, reluctantly giving up his spot next to Greg so that the paramedics could get a chance to assess the situation. Soberly John told them about his own findings and conclusions and waved off the woman who wanted to look at his own scratches.
Before he jumped up the back of the ambulance he looked around one last time to see if he saw Sherlock anywhere, but the detective seemed to have disappeared completely.
-x-
Sherlock came to the hospital only minutes after they had taken Greg to X-ray his arm. John had been with Greg when they had popped the shoulder back in and when they had stitched up the wound, but when Sherlock found him he was sitting in the waiting lounge, drinking tea from a paper cup.
“Hi there,” John said, smiling wearily and reaching for Sherlock.
Sherlock took his hand. “They said they’ve taken him to x-ray.”
“Yeah.” John put down the tea, pulling Sherlock in front of him so that he could rest his head on Sherlock’s stomach. “He’s fine. Three stitches. Nothing more serious than….” His voice broke and he let go of a trembling breath.
Sherlock started to fiddle with John’s hair. “Does he have to stay the night?”
John shook his head. “I can’t see a reason why they would hold him, but we’ll have to see what they say.”
“I’m sorry I… left.”
“It’s all right,” John whispered, raising his arms to hug Sherlock’s waist. “You’re here now.”
“Have you let them take a look at you?” Sherlock asked.
“It’s just scratches.”
“John.” Sherlock’s voice was stern, making John look up at him.
He smiled. “I’m fine, Sherlock. But I swear the two of you will be the end of me.”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, studying John’s face, then he just nodded and went back to fiddling with John’s hair. John leaned against Sherlock’s stomach again and closed his eyes. Soon enough there would be news about Greg.
-x-
Sherlock stood in the doorway, watching John help Greg undress. He had done it many times before, but Greg’s cast and bandage made the process slow and inconvenient. It had nothing of their usual fire or passion. The only thing that remained the same was that John’s hand constantly went to Greg’s neck.
“You’re lingering,” Greg said, looking past John at Sherlock.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” John said, taking his eyes from Greg for possibly the first time since they got home. “You can come in.”
“I know.”
John smiled briefly before turning his attention back to Greg. “I’ll get you that water, all right?”
Greg nodded. On his way out the room John stopped in the doorway, giving Sherlock’s upper arm a quick encouraging stroke before walking downstairs.
“Sherlock.” Greg sat down on the bed and patted on the spot next to him. “Get in here.”
“Do you need anything?”
Greg shook his head. “Our doctor has taken care of most things.”
“John says we’ll be the end of him,” Sherlock said, finally entering the room.
“Really?” Greg laughed softly. “To me he said he’d kill us.”
Sherlock smiled, standing in front of Greg, plucking imaginary dust from his hair. “Are you in pain?” he asked.
Greg shook his head. “Not much.”
“I’m sorry I left.”
“Don’t worry about it. I had John,” Greg said. “Did you catch her?”
“No.” Sherlock snorted. “Having you being rushed off in an ambulance is rather distracting.”
“Sorry about that.”
Sherlock just snorted again. Greg put his good hand on Sherlock’s hip, stroking him gently with his thumb, and they both smiled.
“What did I miss?” John asked as he came back with Greg’s water glass.
“Nothing,” both Greg and Sherlock said.
“Right,” John said, holding out the glass for Greg. Greg stroked Sherlock’s hip one last time before reaching for the glass.
Both John and Sherlock watched him as he took a first sip of water. He looked suspiciously between them and lowered the glass. “God… I’ll have you both in bed tonight, won’t I?”
John looked at Sherlock, who nodded barely noticeable without taking his eyes off Greg.
“Well, I’m not sleeping in the middle,” Greg said.
“Yes, you are,” Sherlock said. “It’s your punishment for being an idiot.”
Greg gave John a pleading look, but John chuckled. “Don’t look at me. You know the rules: when Sherlock wants to join us in bed, we listen to him and let him set the boundaries.”
“That doesn’t apply now,” Greg moaned.
“Perhaps I want to punish you too,” John said, smiling, as he leaned in and kissed Greg. “I’ll go and fetch some more pillows.”
Greg sighed dramatically. “I hate you both.”
“Obviously,” Sherlock said. Greg couldn’t keep his played upset demeanour anymore and smiled at them as they prepared the bed so that the three of them could spend the night there.
Soon they were all tucked in, Sherlock on the right, Greg in the middle and John on the left side. Sherlock was plucking at Greg’s hair again and Greg and John had taken a firm hold of each other’s hands as soon as they lay down. They all knew they wouldn’t get a lot of sleep tonight, the bed wasn’t made for three grown men, but for the first time tonight all three of them managed to relax. At the moment that was far more important than sleep.