Acts of Human Kindness (five-and-one)
Title: Acts of Human Kindness
Characters: John, Sherlock
Universe: BBC
Category: Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: nothing really
WordCount: 2.280
Summary: 5x Sherlock is surprised by John's acts of human kindness and 1x Sherlock surprises John
Disclaimer: Sadly they do not belong to me, otherwise the seasons would consists of more episodes (or we had a lot more seasons XD).
A/N: This is my entry for Watson's Woes Chall19! Just going to copy my note from there...
"I do hope this counts as a valid entry for Challenge 19.
I already had the general idea for this 5-and-1 for the last few days, but I had no real idea for the +1 story. Then when I woke up last night (at bloody 4 am, thank you very much) and was not able to sleep I remembered the challenge and that I could not participate as I just had no idea for it. And then BANG I got this.
Only the +1 part is the real entry for the Challenge 19, but hopefully it is okay that I post it together with the five other parts.
I am hoping it is acceptable as an entry for the Chall19, otherwise I have to withdraw or re-post the +1 part as a standalone."
Even though, I hope you like it! :)
I
Sherlock has already turned around the corner of the street when he notices that John is not following him anymore.
Without a pause he spins on the spot, his scarf and coat flying around him and walks back around the corner.
But after a few steps he stops and blinks.
John is just a few meters in front of him on the middle of the street, slowly and carefully crossing it - with an old woman holding on to his arm.
He smiles gently and pats her wrinkled hand, why she shyly mutters and slightly grimaces with each step that she takes.
Even though John lowly talks to her, he keeps a sharp eye on the traffic and easily commands with a raised hand the cars to wait until they finally reach the other curb.
When she starts to mutter her thanks and even begins to open her purse John only shakes his head, says something and even bows like a gentleman, making her laugh.
John carefully watches how the woman continues on her way down the street for a few moments and then he swiftly crosses the street again and walks up to Sherlock.
He raises his eyebrow when Sherlock only stares wonderingly at him, but then Sherlock shakes his head and turns back to continue on their way.
Sherlock will never understand why it is so important for John to help - he does not gain anything from it after all.
Why do something if there is nothing in for you? It’s not logical.
Not at all.
II
After two hours of watching the entrance of the small shop inside of the shopping centre Sherlock is sure that their man is not there and steps forward to enter it.
As he turns his head to make sure that John follows him he halts surprised.
John is no longer there and Sherlock looks around, searching for his blogger.
He finds him squatting in front of another shop, a small boy standing before him and crying. John talks gently to the boy, carefully keeping his hands on his knees as to not frighten the boy with a stranger talking to him and has a gentle smile on his lips.
The boy hiccups and finally answers John’s questions and then John stands back up and they enter the shop together.
Through the glass Sherlock is able to watch how they walk towards one of the cash outs and John talks to the woman for a moment, which then makes an announcement.
John patiently waits with the small boy huddled against his legs until a worried woman hurries towards them and swings the crying child into her arms.
After making sure that the boy is held by the right woman and that both are alright, John leaves the shop without waiting for any thanks from the mother and returns to Sherlock’s side.
He dips his head quizzical, but Sherlock only rolls his eyes and strides towards their intended destination.
They have no time for such stupid kindness, there is a thief to catch!
III
Really, he should be surprised that John is not there, but Sherlock is not. They are in the hospital after all and of course did John find someone to care for as long as Sherlock was occupied.
Sherlock only shakes his head and walks directly towards the waiting room. John would not be so rude and enter a patient’s room, but stupidly worried family members waiting for news would be the perfect candidates for him.
Sherlock enters the room and waits at the door, swiftly looking over the few people until he finds John sitting in one of the blasted chairs at the side of a distraught man (soon-to-be father and there have been complications with the pregnancy; his fiancée - they are not married yet - is being examined now), who carefully tries not to cry openly.
John talks quietly to him and Sherlock can easily deduce that he talks about all kinds of doctor-stuff, like how qualified the staff is in this hospital or that there are no reasons to worry, as such complications can arise but are not threatening and so on and so on.
John’s presence may be the only reason why the man did not already break down and within minutes he calms even more.
A doctor enters the room and after calling a name the man scrambles to his feet and walks hurriedly to him.
The doctor smiles, says something (woman and baby are both healthy, no wonder) and the man visibly sags with relief before following the doctor down the hallway without a glance back to John.
John looks after them and then looks to the door. After seeing Sherlock he pushes out of the chair with a grimace (those chairs are horrible uncomfortable) and walks to his side.
Sherlock only waits until John has reached him, studies him for a moment and then leaves the room.
John is a doctor after all, that has to be the reason why he always looks after people in a hospital.
There can not be any other kind of logical reason for such behaviour.
IV
Sherlock fiddles with his violin, creating bits of music, when he hears the door and slow, tired steps on the stairs.
A moment later John stumbles into the living room, throws his jacket over his chair and then collapses on the coach.
He bends his arm and covers his eyes with the other, his face pale and drawn.
It is not difficult for Sherlock to deduce where he has been (with those stains on his pants it’s a child’s play) and remembering the news flash yesterday evening about how the hospitals need to stock up their blood reserves and everyone who is willing should donate some.
Of course John would be one of the first to do so, stupidly in Sherlock’s opinion. There are enough other fools to spend their blood, so it can be frozen and stowed in some boxes.
Sherlock has more valued uses for blood (his own and that of others), he has nothing to spare. Using blood for his experiments has some reward after all, he is able to catch a criminal or sometimes to clear an innocent’s name.
Sherlock can list all of the people he caught or freed because of his work.
John will never know who (if at all) gets his blood and no one will ever know that they got the blood (which may have saved their life) from him.
So why bother?
V
It is one of the (in his opinion) stupidest acts which finally allows Sherlock to at least understand a little bit why John shows kindness.
It is pouring, the rain is cold as ice and almost no one is outside.
Sherlock and John are on their way back to Baker Street, an umbrella held by Sherlock (John’s too small to hold it at an appreciate height for both) is their only protection.
When they reach an alley Sherlock is surprised when John looks up and without any hesitation leaves his side and walks into the darkness and rain.
Sherlock blinks and then follows his companion into the alley. He finds John kneeling in a puddle, already drenched to the bones with his jacket opened.
A small bundles wriggles against his chest and pitiful mewing reaches Sherlock’s ears. A small kitten, totally wet and muddy, curls against John’s warm body and John carefully and gently caresses it with both hands, not caring about the dirt on his shirt.
But it is the expression in John’s face which halts every thought process in Sherlock’s head.
His eyes are warm and alive and a small gentle smile lingers on his lips. There is something, something Sherlock can not describe and something he has always seen when John helped others, but was never able to understand it.
Sherlock pauses another moment, then steps to John’s side and bends over until the umbrella covers the already drenched from of his blogger, not caring about the rain which now pelts onto his own back.
John looks up surprised, but then he almost starts to glow with this something and smiles warmly at Sherlock.
And deep inside Sherlock believes he can feel this something, too.
Human kindness may not be so stupid (but still illogical) as he thought.
VI
John is beyond tired when he reaches Baker Street. And he is almost completely frozen, as there has been nothing but sleet for hours and cold winds whipping through the streets.
His work has been boring and horrible, screeching and snotty kids and too many rude people sneezing or coughing into his face.
Harry’s calls had not made the day better as she has been drunk (and gotten drunker with each call), talking about a lot of her stuff (never asking about him), but mostly about asking for money to get more alcohol (as if she needed even more).
Then there has been no cab to catch and he had to walk the way with no umbrella and no thick jacket to protect him against the cold and sleet.
There has also been a case of robberies in the last few weeks which took all of Sherlock’s attention and made him more snappish than usual, leading to his announcement to leave for a few days to catch the robbers - without John.
So John is cold, wet, has a horrible headache, guilty feelings about his sister and feels totally useless.
And on top of all that - it’s Christmas Eve and there is nothing for him.
No colourful decorations, no delicious food, no presents and most importantly not a single soul to celebrate with.
It is with a heavy heart that he enters their flat and with only a single glance into the cold and dark living room, he turns around and walks upwards to his own room, which is as cold and as dark as everything else.
He takes of his clothes and carelessly throws everything to the floor, before putting his pyjamas on and crawls into bed.
This has to be the most dreadful, horrible and lonely Christmas of his life.
+++++++
A figure silently opens the door and closes it again and climbs the stairs without a sound to the first floor.
Noticing the empty living room the figure continues the way and reaches the door of the upstairs bedroom.
The figure opens the door and steps up to the bed. A little bit of moonlight shines through the window, just enough to illuminate the pale and drawn features of John, who sleeps uneasily plagued by nightmares.
The figure observes John for a moment, then turns around and leaves the room.
Only silence fills the house.
+++++++
It is the smell which wakes John the next morning. He blinks tiredly and stares at the ceiling of his room, trying to recognize the smell.
Gingerbread.
He blinks and sits ups in bed, looking towards his closed door. Why does the house smell of cookies?
He takes his dressing gown and slowly walks towards the closed door of the living room. He can see lights beneath the door and with his heart thudding in his breast he opens it.
Colours and lights greet him, delicious smells fill his nostrils and in the corner of the room stands a tall and beautiful decorated Christmas tree with several presents beneath it. A warm fire burns in the fireplace and the skull seems to smile at him with a Santa’s hat on top of it.
John enters the room, his eyes full of awe and surprise. He turns in a circle to take everything in until his eyes land on Sherlock who stands in the entry to the kitchen and watches him.
“Good morning, John,” Sherlock says and John blinks only. “Sherlock?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Sherlock grins and John points at him. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s Christmas, John,” Sherlock explains. “Even you can deduce that.”
“No, I mean…,” John stammers and spreads his arms to indicate helplessly the whole room. Sherlock looks around and for the first time John notices a slight tinge of pink to Sherlock’s ears.
He is embarrassed and not sure about what he did.
John can feel childish tears in his eyes and swallows a lump in his throat. “Did you do all of this?”
“Not really, I just made a few calls last night,” Sherlock answers a little bit shyly. “And my brother’s credit card was most helpful.”
John giggles wetly and then looks around. It really does look like a perfect Christmas from the television and he is sure that everything is the best you can buy with money.
But what is the most important thing and something you can never pay with all the money of the world is the fact that Sherlock-I-do-not-care-about-such-boring-stuff-Holmes cared enough to arrange this all.
And that just for him.
He looks back to Sherlock, who still waits uneasily and John smiles warmly, his eyes full of gratitude and fondness.
“Thank you, Sherlock. That’s very kind of you.”
Sherlock draws his brows together and John watches him surprised, but finally Sherlock’s face clears as if he found an important answer to an unsolved riddle and an answering smile tugs at his lips.
“Merry Christmas, John.”
“Merry Christmas, Sherlock.”
And when Sherlock takes up his violin to play the most wonderful Christmas music John has ever heard, John looks outside and realizes that small puffy flocks of snowflakes flutter down and cover the city with a soft white blanket.
This is the best Christmas he ever had and his most precious gift is a simple act of human kindness.
Characters: John, Sherlock
Universe: BBC
Category: Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: nothing really
WordCount: 2.280
Summary: 5x Sherlock is surprised by John's acts of human kindness and 1x Sherlock surprises John
Disclaimer: Sadly they do not belong to me, otherwise the seasons would consists of more episodes (or we had a lot more seasons XD).
A/N: This is my entry for Watson's Woes Chall19! Just going to copy my note from there...
"I do hope this counts as a valid entry for Challenge 19.
I already had the general idea for this 5-and-1 for the last few days, but I had no real idea for the +1 story. Then when I woke up last night (at bloody 4 am, thank you very much) and was not able to sleep I remembered the challenge and that I could not participate as I just had no idea for it. And then BANG I got this.
Only the +1 part is the real entry for the Challenge 19, but hopefully it is okay that I post it together with the five other parts.
I am hoping it is acceptable as an entry for the Chall19, otherwise I have to withdraw or re-post the +1 part as a standalone."
Even though, I hope you like it! :)
I
Sherlock has already turned around the corner of the street when he notices that John is not following him anymore.
Without a pause he spins on the spot, his scarf and coat flying around him and walks back around the corner.
But after a few steps he stops and blinks.
John is just a few meters in front of him on the middle of the street, slowly and carefully crossing it - with an old woman holding on to his arm.
He smiles gently and pats her wrinkled hand, why she shyly mutters and slightly grimaces with each step that she takes.
Even though John lowly talks to her, he keeps a sharp eye on the traffic and easily commands with a raised hand the cars to wait until they finally reach the other curb.
When she starts to mutter her thanks and even begins to open her purse John only shakes his head, says something and even bows like a gentleman, making her laugh.
John carefully watches how the woman continues on her way down the street for a few moments and then he swiftly crosses the street again and walks up to Sherlock.
He raises his eyebrow when Sherlock only stares wonderingly at him, but then Sherlock shakes his head and turns back to continue on their way.
Sherlock will never understand why it is so important for John to help - he does not gain anything from it after all.
Why do something if there is nothing in for you? It’s not logical.
Not at all.
II
After two hours of watching the entrance of the small shop inside of the shopping centre Sherlock is sure that their man is not there and steps forward to enter it.
As he turns his head to make sure that John follows him he halts surprised.
John is no longer there and Sherlock looks around, searching for his blogger.
He finds him squatting in front of another shop, a small boy standing before him and crying. John talks gently to the boy, carefully keeping his hands on his knees as to not frighten the boy with a stranger talking to him and has a gentle smile on his lips.
The boy hiccups and finally answers John’s questions and then John stands back up and they enter the shop together.
Through the glass Sherlock is able to watch how they walk towards one of the cash outs and John talks to the woman for a moment, which then makes an announcement.
John patiently waits with the small boy huddled against his legs until a worried woman hurries towards them and swings the crying child into her arms.
After making sure that the boy is held by the right woman and that both are alright, John leaves the shop without waiting for any thanks from the mother and returns to Sherlock’s side.
He dips his head quizzical, but Sherlock only rolls his eyes and strides towards their intended destination.
They have no time for such stupid kindness, there is a thief to catch!
III
Really, he should be surprised that John is not there, but Sherlock is not. They are in the hospital after all and of course did John find someone to care for as long as Sherlock was occupied.
Sherlock only shakes his head and walks directly towards the waiting room. John would not be so rude and enter a patient’s room, but stupidly worried family members waiting for news would be the perfect candidates for him.
Sherlock enters the room and waits at the door, swiftly looking over the few people until he finds John sitting in one of the blasted chairs at the side of a distraught man (soon-to-be father and there have been complications with the pregnancy; his fiancée - they are not married yet - is being examined now), who carefully tries not to cry openly.
John talks quietly to him and Sherlock can easily deduce that he talks about all kinds of doctor-stuff, like how qualified the staff is in this hospital or that there are no reasons to worry, as such complications can arise but are not threatening and so on and so on.
John’s presence may be the only reason why the man did not already break down and within minutes he calms even more.
A doctor enters the room and after calling a name the man scrambles to his feet and walks hurriedly to him.
The doctor smiles, says something (woman and baby are both healthy, no wonder) and the man visibly sags with relief before following the doctor down the hallway without a glance back to John.
John looks after them and then looks to the door. After seeing Sherlock he pushes out of the chair with a grimace (those chairs are horrible uncomfortable) and walks to his side.
Sherlock only waits until John has reached him, studies him for a moment and then leaves the room.
John is a doctor after all, that has to be the reason why he always looks after people in a hospital.
There can not be any other kind of logical reason for such behaviour.
IV
Sherlock fiddles with his violin, creating bits of music, when he hears the door and slow, tired steps on the stairs.
A moment later John stumbles into the living room, throws his jacket over his chair and then collapses on the coach.
He bends his arm and covers his eyes with the other, his face pale and drawn.
It is not difficult for Sherlock to deduce where he has been (with those stains on his pants it’s a child’s play) and remembering the news flash yesterday evening about how the hospitals need to stock up their blood reserves and everyone who is willing should donate some.
Of course John would be one of the first to do so, stupidly in Sherlock’s opinion. There are enough other fools to spend their blood, so it can be frozen and stowed in some boxes.
Sherlock has more valued uses for blood (his own and that of others), he has nothing to spare. Using blood for his experiments has some reward after all, he is able to catch a criminal or sometimes to clear an innocent’s name.
Sherlock can list all of the people he caught or freed because of his work.
John will never know who (if at all) gets his blood and no one will ever know that they got the blood (which may have saved their life) from him.
So why bother?
V
It is one of the (in his opinion) stupidest acts which finally allows Sherlock to at least understand a little bit why John shows kindness.
It is pouring, the rain is cold as ice and almost no one is outside.
Sherlock and John are on their way back to Baker Street, an umbrella held by Sherlock (John’s too small to hold it at an appreciate height for both) is their only protection.
When they reach an alley Sherlock is surprised when John looks up and without any hesitation leaves his side and walks into the darkness and rain.
Sherlock blinks and then follows his companion into the alley. He finds John kneeling in a puddle, already drenched to the bones with his jacket opened.
A small bundles wriggles against his chest and pitiful mewing reaches Sherlock’s ears. A small kitten, totally wet and muddy, curls against John’s warm body and John carefully and gently caresses it with both hands, not caring about the dirt on his shirt.
But it is the expression in John’s face which halts every thought process in Sherlock’s head.
His eyes are warm and alive and a small gentle smile lingers on his lips. There is something, something Sherlock can not describe and something he has always seen when John helped others, but was never able to understand it.
Sherlock pauses another moment, then steps to John’s side and bends over until the umbrella covers the already drenched from of his blogger, not caring about the rain which now pelts onto his own back.
John looks up surprised, but then he almost starts to glow with this something and smiles warmly at Sherlock.
And deep inside Sherlock believes he can feel this something, too.
Human kindness may not be so stupid (but still illogical) as he thought.
VI
John is beyond tired when he reaches Baker Street. And he is almost completely frozen, as there has been nothing but sleet for hours and cold winds whipping through the streets.
His work has been boring and horrible, screeching and snotty kids and too many rude people sneezing or coughing into his face.
Harry’s calls had not made the day better as she has been drunk (and gotten drunker with each call), talking about a lot of her stuff (never asking about him), but mostly about asking for money to get more alcohol (as if she needed even more).
Then there has been no cab to catch and he had to walk the way with no umbrella and no thick jacket to protect him against the cold and sleet.
There has also been a case of robberies in the last few weeks which took all of Sherlock’s attention and made him more snappish than usual, leading to his announcement to leave for a few days to catch the robbers - without John.
So John is cold, wet, has a horrible headache, guilty feelings about his sister and feels totally useless.
And on top of all that - it’s Christmas Eve and there is nothing for him.
No colourful decorations, no delicious food, no presents and most importantly not a single soul to celebrate with.
It is with a heavy heart that he enters their flat and with only a single glance into the cold and dark living room, he turns around and walks upwards to his own room, which is as cold and as dark as everything else.
He takes of his clothes and carelessly throws everything to the floor, before putting his pyjamas on and crawls into bed.
This has to be the most dreadful, horrible and lonely Christmas of his life.
+++++++
A figure silently opens the door and closes it again and climbs the stairs without a sound to the first floor.
Noticing the empty living room the figure continues the way and reaches the door of the upstairs bedroom.
The figure opens the door and steps up to the bed. A little bit of moonlight shines through the window, just enough to illuminate the pale and drawn features of John, who sleeps uneasily plagued by nightmares.
The figure observes John for a moment, then turns around and leaves the room.
Only silence fills the house.
+++++++
It is the smell which wakes John the next morning. He blinks tiredly and stares at the ceiling of his room, trying to recognize the smell.
Gingerbread.
He blinks and sits ups in bed, looking towards his closed door. Why does the house smell of cookies?
He takes his dressing gown and slowly walks towards the closed door of the living room. He can see lights beneath the door and with his heart thudding in his breast he opens it.
Colours and lights greet him, delicious smells fill his nostrils and in the corner of the room stands a tall and beautiful decorated Christmas tree with several presents beneath it. A warm fire burns in the fireplace and the skull seems to smile at him with a Santa’s hat on top of it.
John enters the room, his eyes full of awe and surprise. He turns in a circle to take everything in until his eyes land on Sherlock who stands in the entry to the kitchen and watches him.
“Good morning, John,” Sherlock says and John blinks only. “Sherlock?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Sherlock grins and John points at him. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s Christmas, John,” Sherlock explains. “Even you can deduce that.”
“No, I mean…,” John stammers and spreads his arms to indicate helplessly the whole room. Sherlock looks around and for the first time John notices a slight tinge of pink to Sherlock’s ears.
He is embarrassed and not sure about what he did.
John can feel childish tears in his eyes and swallows a lump in his throat. “Did you do all of this?”
“Not really, I just made a few calls last night,” Sherlock answers a little bit shyly. “And my brother’s credit card was most helpful.”
John giggles wetly and then looks around. It really does look like a perfect Christmas from the television and he is sure that everything is the best you can buy with money.
But what is the most important thing and something you can never pay with all the money of the world is the fact that Sherlock-I-do-not-care-about-such-boring-stuff-Holmes cared enough to arrange this all.
And that just for him.
He looks back to Sherlock, who still waits uneasily and John smiles warmly, his eyes full of gratitude and fondness.
“Thank you, Sherlock. That’s very kind of you.”
Sherlock draws his brows together and John watches him surprised, but finally Sherlock’s face clears as if he found an important answer to an unsolved riddle and an answering smile tugs at his lips.
“Merry Christmas, John.”
“Merry Christmas, Sherlock.”
And when Sherlock takes up his violin to play the most wonderful Christmas music John has ever heard, John looks outside and realizes that small puffy flocks of snowflakes flutter down and cover the city with a soft white blanket.
This is the best Christmas he ever had and his most precious gift is a simple act of human kindness.