Checkmate

Chapter 7: Post-mortem

Seb wakes up the next day, next to Sherlock. Thinking over how or if he should tell Sherlock about his past. "Seb...What are you thinking of?" Sherlock murmurs. "Nothing really.." Seb blatantly lies and the detective can see right through it. Sherlock cocks up an eyebrow. "Keep your secrets then..." Sherlock says and rolls over back to him. He wasn't going to push Seb. The sniper sighs, "I think there's something you should know, and besides I need to get this off my chest. "

Sherlock rolls back over to face Seb. He nods willing him to go on. "I'm going to warn you, it's about Jim and it's about my past. " He looks at the detective, the detective sees the shield that Seb has put up slowly peel away. Sherlock sits up all the way, giving him his full attention. "Seb you can tell me anything. I hope you know that." "I know it's just..." He sighs.

Sherlock gives him a reassuring smile and scoots over to take his hand. Seb takes it gratefully, needing the support, quickly rethinking if he wants to tell Sherlock or not. The detective is aware of the battle going on inside of Seb's head and says nothing. "I'm sorry but I can't, I'm not ready. But I promise you I'll tell you when I'm ready. I have to. "

Sherlock nods understanding, "Whenever you're ready, I will be listening. " As perfect as the detective seemed, the smallest flaw was constantly and consistently showed to Seb: a small chink in his cold armour. Whether it be a small tug at the corner of his mouth when something pleased him or when he was worried and his dark eyebrows pulled together ever so slightly.The more Seb was around the detective, the more the sniper could slowly unwrap the detective's own mysteries and mannerisms. Though this time it was a small, barely noticeable frown.

"Sherlock?"

The detective answered the unspoken question , "Yes the burns do hurt a little but it's nothing I can't-" Before he can finish Seb rolls his eyes. Sherlock narrowed his own, "What?""They still need cleaning and I won't take no for an answer. "

There it is, another one of Sherlock's small expression changes. This time it was a blend of amusement and confusion. "I told you already, they are fine. Why are you so protective of me for something so....superficial?" The detective asked softly as he eyed the bigger man seeing if he can get out of it but can't find an escape. Truth be told, Sherlock had his own share of things he was not yet ready to share. If he allowed Seb to inspect the wounds, he was sure Seb would have some questions of his own regarding his old scars. Sherlock knew the sniper wouldn't pry, having a mutual respect for each other's privacy, but he still felt stupidly anxious.

Perhaps it isn't stupid at all... Sherlock thinks, having fallen silent, still waiting for Seb's answer.

Seb shrugs, again it was just his protectiveness of the kind detective. Sherlock lets out a resigned sigh. the detective knew that Seb was stubborn and he knew that resisting the request was pointless. Sherlock figures the questions would come up eventually so Sherlock nods, allowing the sniper to come close to look his burns over.

Sure enough, as Seb is looking at the state of Sherlock's healing, Seb notices something that he had not before. On the underside of the detective's forearms are small circular scars. Needle marks. No...Injection marks. Some are much fresher than the scars left from past usage. Seb ventures that they are less than a few months old. Just around the time that Sherlock began his associations with Seb. And that's not all. Above the needle marks are horizontal scars. Shallow, intentional. The detective may have tried to take his own life at one point. That, and intentionally marked himself up.

Seb grimaces but doesn't ask about them, leaving it until Sherlock was ready to tell him. Sherlock isn't looking at Seb as the sniper's hands and eyes move over the pale skin. Seb takes a moment to trace over them, face blank. But on the inside Seb's heart aches for the detective.