Sherlock oneshots

Mourning the passing (Johnlock)

Translock au. Pre fall coz thats expresso depresso. Hope you like it!

~Johns pov~
We arrived home after a manic case but I could tell something was off about Sherlock. He hadn't eaten in ages and today he kept bending over in agony and clitching his chest as he walked. Sherlock flung himself onto the couch and lefted his feet to his chest. I could see pain in his eyes and couldnt help but fear he was hurt. Doctor mode took over as I sat beside him and ordered him to sit up.

"I'm fine John."

"No your not. You've been grabbing your chest all day and your clearly in pain. Let me look-"

"NO!"Sherlock sprung from the sofa and ran to his room, arms wrapped tightly round his chest. I banged on his closed door and demamded he let me in.
"I'm not hurt John! Just some chest discomfort thats all! I'll be better soon!" He was pressing his back to the door so I couldn't come in. My temper boiled and I screamed.
"SHERLOCK BLOODY HOLMES! I AM YOUR DOCTER! LET ME HELP YOU DAMN IT!"
I heared a muffled sound from the other side of the door. Sherlock was crying? This was new and serious. I would have pushed open the door there and then but at the final moments I decided to try a softer approach.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I just saw you hurt and I panicked. Can you let me in?" After a few moments and a muffled no, I slumped down at the other side of the door. 
"Why won't you let me help sherlock?"

"It wont last long. I'm going somewhere tommorow to get it fixed," He explained. My head reeled with possibilities. "I won't be home for a month or so while I heal but i promise you John, I will explain everything when I get back."
I could hear the pain in his voice. It wasn't physical pain which was hurting him but mental, I could tell now. That explained the eagerness and sorrow in his eyes when he solved the case. It would be the last one for a month.

He wasn't going to tell me what was hurting him but that was fine. I would wait for him to feel better before i pried any further. I rested my head to the door again.

"Does Greg know your going away?"
"Who?" I forgot he can never remember his name.
"Lestrade."
"Oh Graham? Yea he knows. Mycroft told him before he told me he had payed for the surgery."

Surgary? Payed by Mycroft? It must have been expensive. Was Sherlock facing some life-thretaning illness that cost a bomb? Why hadn't he told me? I began to panic again and Sherlock could clearly sense this. He flew open the door and wrapped me in his arms. I could see him wince as the pain in his chest increased but he didnt seem to care and, for that moment, neither did I. He was holding me tight and I never eanted him to let go. Unfortunately, he did.

"As much as I love this embrace John, I need to do something to temporarily address my pain." He smiled as he pulled away and helped me to my feet. I had an idea.

"You go in your room and I'll make you a cup of tea and fetch some paracetamol okay?" I smiled and held his hand as I talked. I could swear i saw a small blush fall over his cheek. He grinned and I released his hand as he glided into his room. That was all i saw of him that night. Or that month for a matter of fact.

The next day when I came downstairs I was not greeted by the sight of Sherlock laying on the couch as usual but a note ontop of his favourate union jack pillow which read:

Sorry I didn't say goodbye but Mycroft just informed me that my surgery is early this morning so I had to leave at 4:30. I'll be back soon. Wait for me, will you John.
-SH

And so I waited.
_______________________________________

Sherlock retured home at around 9:30pm. After a month of worry and stress and without a cease to ease my mind, I had slowly become sherlock. I didn't go to my room at all and nearly ever ate. I just layed on the couch wondering how my flatmate was coping.

Whilst he was away I had ample time to think about myself and him. In this time, the 3rd day he was away infacf, I had realised I was not only crushing on him but fully in love with the sociopath I wrongly labled as my best friend.

Naturaly, when I heared him walk up the stairs I grew anxious beyond belief. The seccond he opened the door, I dragged him inside and threw myself into his arms. My heart raced as the man I loved held me for the seccond tine.Once the embrace sadly ended he sat me down to explain.

" I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but I wanted you to find out like this." He was beginning to confuse me when he unbuttoned his purple shirt to reveal a slim and pake frame. My face turned beet as my eyes traced every line on his torso untill my eyes fell upon his breasts. Undeneath his nipples were two still very red scars with the remnants of stitches.

I felt so stupid.

That explained why I had never seen him shower and why he always covered his upper half when in his sheet. He had top surgary. My mind then fluttered to the week before he went away. He hadnt been in his room the ful week. Which meant he hadn't taken off his binder for a full week. No wonder his chest hurt.

"I can leave if you like." Sherlocks words hit me like a ton of bricks and pulled me back to reality.
"No! Why would I want you to leave?!" I realised I had drying tears on my face.
"I'm a freak, John." My hear dropped to hear him think so low of himself.
I walked up to him and wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling the taller man down to hug me. Before I could control myself, I pressed my lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. I tried to pull myself away after a few moments as to not startle him but he grabbed my waiste and deepened the kiss. I could tell he had been waiting ages for this and I wouldnt bring myself to pull away.

Fuck he was good at this.

Eventualy we parted to breathe and I looked into his silver eyes that glittered like pools of moonbeams.
"Your beautiful." I breathed into his neck. He giggled and I tilted my head. What was so funny?

"Nothing. Nothing. I just had an idea, that's all."
"What idea?"
"What if we held a little funeral party for my dead name?" We both burst into laughter at this notion. Little did we know, a week later we would both be dressed in black with Greg and Mycroft at the flat, drinking toasts to the rememberance of 'Willimina Sarah Scarlet Holmes'.