Sherlock Oneshots (Mystrade/Johnlock/Mormor)

Please Stay By My Side - Johnlock

I love Victorian Johnlock so much lol

I also think I might try making chapters shorter from now on, as that'll make it easier to write more chapters

Sorry for how sad this one is

Lemme know if part two would be a good idea 

3rd Person P.O.V

"I hate hiding."

"I know. It is really dark in here."

"Not what I meant, Sherlock." Watson hissed, elbowing his partner in the side. "But, yes. It is dark in here."

"What did you mean then, John?"

"I hate hiding that we're... um..." John's voice trailed off. He still found this difficult to talk about.

"Oh. Yes. Us. That makes more sense." Sherlock shuffled around a bit, trying to find a matchbox in his pocket. "Do you have a match?"

"No, no I don't." John mumbled, running his hands along the wall in front of him. "Are you completely certain that no one is home?"

"No one has been in here for decades, John."

"Somehow, that doesn't give me much hope."

After some more digging around in his pockets, Sherlock found a matchbox. He felt that there were about four matches left in the box.

"John!"

"Yes?"

"I have a source of light, but I don't know how effective it's going to be."

"Just... try it."

"Okay."

John smiled softly. He was underappreciated by everyone because of Sherlock. He was so much smarter and more capable. But, Sherlock never overlooked his partner. He saw so much in John, and always asked for his opinion or advice on almost anything. It was nice to know that someone valued John in the way Sherlock did.

Sherlock quickly flicked the match on the side of the box, and it broke almost instantly on impact. He swore quietly, hoping that John didn't notice his failure. John heard the match snap, guessing that Sherlock would immediately grab the next one. But when the detective stopped moving and cussed himself out, John knew he needed to somehow find where Sherlock was. Whenever he got into his head about something he failed to do, it was difficult to get him out of it.

John was the only person who could successfully get him out of his head.

"Where are you?" John asked. No response. "Where are you?" He asked again, firmer this time.

"Take two steps behind you and one to the left."

"How do you- okay." John shook his head and did as he was instructed. After taking two steps backwards and one to the left. He softly bumped into Holmes, who reached out a grabbed John's elbow in order to pull him closer. "Do you need help with the matches?"

"John..." Holmes whispered. "I can't..." He sniffed, clearly wiping away tears. "I can't do it! I'm hopeless! I can't do anything practical! I'm so-"

"No. You can do it. Give me your hands." Watson wasted no time trying to distract Sherlock from his frantic thoughts. Holmes timidly ran his hand down John's arm and found his hand. The hand that was holding the matchbox found John's other hand, and Watson squeezed both of Sherlock's hands in reassurance. "There you go... Try to light a match."

Sherlock's hands were shaking, but he felt much more stable with John by his side. He struck another match, and fire burst from the red end. A smile lit up his face and John smiled too, finding the joy that radiated off his partner to be quite contagious.