Universe stratos (Johnlock)

Chapter 3: Water Damage

Hello!! Sorry for the long wait I hope you like this chapter. I know I already tried to tell most of you that I couldn't write because my laptop broke, but I also couldn't tell any one because I lost my phone in another state. I was stuck without internet for so long and it was terrible, plus, all my art, my music that I made and my writing was all gone. I took my hard drive to a friend but they said something happened to it and they weren't able to help me, and around the same time, my iPad's electric screen thingy gave out and now it's just a blue pixelated screen when I turn it on. But anyways thank you all for reading and I used my phone to write this thing because my laptop isn't here yet, I used a combination of the voice app and my keyboard to do this so if there are any mistakes or the writing seems to rushed or something please tell me, I will do my best to fix all my mistakes and hopefully make the story better, criticism is advised and welcomed. Thank you.

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John slept upstairs. All the way up the stairs, as far away from Sherlock he could possibly get without hurting them both, and while it was uncomfortable he just tried not to think about it. John was constantly trying to trick his mind into changing the subject. He had tried to manage anything that he could do to distract himself. He had been downstairs at least 10 times to make tea and even thought about making scones. But that was a bust, the only thing that he could find the cupboards were the occasional body parts and a brightly colored box half full of cereal that expired six months ago. As John lay there he thought to himself, maybe he should just get his gun but, decided against it for better lack of judgment. He thought maybe he could hurt him self to get his mind off things but that would only make him feel worse and think about it more. Besides, soulmates could feel each others physical pains. Granted it was a dull pain but Sherlock was smart and would definitely figure out what he was doing. John really didn't need whatever Sherlocks reaction would be to that, whatever it may be.
John had been there for about two days, so far they had ran after a murderous cabbie, killed him, and solved the mystery of the pink lady. John also by incident had forgotten his cane at the restaurant they had sat in, which turned out not to be a date, as a tiny piece of John was hoping for, but an excuse to stalk a suspect, unfortunately. John had not budged then but almost felt the hurt coming on as he tried to think about something else. Later his cane was brought back to him and he realized he was fine without it, Sherlock made him for get. He Had not failed yet trying to suppress his emotions. But this made his heart wavered and he just wanted to let go of the of thoughts that tormented him in the back of his mind. It was beginning to get harder to control for John. He dealt anyways. Hoping that it would be enough to get through this hell he called life.
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Sherlock paced the room in boredom, thinking. He thought about John and all the events as of late. Sherlock felt bothered about it more than he thought he should. It bothered him even more because of the fact that the whole situation bothered him. Why? He had no clue, if he did he wouldn't be thinking about it so much. It's almost as if... He wanted John to open up to him. Yes, he may be cold but, he is not completely heartless. He just didn't feel like John should have to die, besides, he proved quite useful during the recent case. Someone who was willing to help when no one was felt kind of good. Sherlock decided his coldness was unnecessary and he should discuss things with John right now. It was 3:45 am but he knew John was awake because he kept feeling the pushing of John's emotions against the barrier he created. He hadn't slept since he got to 221b, which is odd for most people since many like regular sleep. (unlike him who barely slept until the point of exhaustion) He decided to go upstairs and knock on John's door and discuss things with, he had no idea how this would go, but he hoped something would come out of his effort.
He walked up the creaky old stair case to John's bedroom, the boards groaned in protest as he stepped forward each time, and seem to get a little louder as he went. Sherlock's heart started pounding a little and Sherlock passes it off as not getting enough to eat or something of that sort as he reaches the top and turns towards the door. He lightly rapped on John's door
"John? I need to speak with you," he waited until he heard foot steps and the click of the lock on the door. The handle turned smoothly and the door opened to John's sleepless face. Something in Sherlock hurt as he saw poor John's face but, Sherlock instead, cleared his throat and began talking again, "let's go down stairs, I'll make some tea." John just nodded and trotted after him down the stairs.
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John heard a light knock on the door and sighed, wondering what ridiculous thing Sherlock wants him to do now, and got up. As he reaches the door and remembered that he locked it. He wasn't a fan of being barged in on, and he didn't like being frightened, it might throw off his train of thought. He turned the lock on the handle and opened the door. Sherlock wanted to talk about something, oh boy. John wondered if he was kicking him out or something. Hopefully not, John probably couldn't take much more of the abandonment he was already feels. His heart felt like a million pounds as he went down the stairs behind Sherlock. His own foot steps felt sluggish, like walking through mud as he stepped down the stairs. The fear of being left behind again was edging his thoughts as his sleep deprived mind sluggishly fought them away. They entered the kitchen, Sherlock put the kettle on, and turned up the heat on the stove. Afterwards he walked to the table where John was already seated and sat on the opposite side of the slightly cluttered table full of random experiments and utensils. John looked around looking for something to think about and his eyes landed on Sherlock's face. The man had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Lovely shades of blue, green all mashing together to create some sort of ocean that resided in his eyes John spaced out on his face, pondering how such a beautiful man could be so calculated. Then Sherlock spoke.
"I want you to become part of my work," John was snapped out of his thoughts he looked at Sherlock with a raised eye brow.
"Excuse me?" Sherlock just rolled his ocean like eyes, "yes, I want you to be apart of my work because you are more useful than I thought, and I it bothers me that you are making yourself suffer," John looked down at his lap. He did feel tired, absolutely exhausted. He was suffering too but, he didn't want to make Sherlock feel things he was most likely not accustomed too, that would make him a burden, "John, I'm asking you to do it for yourself. It bothers me incredibly to see you suffer like this," Sherlock's eyes widened a little and he cleared his throat, "I-I mean you shouldn't have to be- no that's... Um, well you're human too. Just let your self be umm... Human." Just human. Yes great choice of works you bloody genius, what fine literacy there.
Sherlock just stared at John awaiting his response. John put his hands to his face.
"Sherlock please, I'm sure you don't want to deal with it. Just leave it be," Sherlock frowned, " no," John tried to focus on something else but was slipping on the grasp of his emotions that were beginning to overflow. That's when Sherlock had an idea, if John wasn't going to willingly give up the fight then he would make him.
"John. I didn't want to do this, but I guess I have to. I know you felt hurt, and I know you're blocking it out and I know i haven't been the ideal soulmate but that doesn't mean you can live the rest of your life like this. Whether I- or you- like it or not, we are BOUND by nature to each other and nothing can stop it. I've tried studying away out of it- trust me there is NONE. So I suggest you face this and let go. Whatever you have I can handle it." And that was it John just gave way, it was there point blank in his face, there was no escape this time and he knew it. Sherlock had won and now John was going to have to get used to it.
That's when the tears started.
Right there, right then. Tears ran down his face and his chest hurt like hell and everything was just terrible. Sherlock felt it, and almost stated crying himself, never before had he felt this, it was interesting but so terrible and tormenting, how do people do deal with this Sherlock wondered as wave of empathy rippled from Sherlock to John.
"Sherlock... I'm sorry, I promise I'll try not to be a burden to your work." Sherlock just rolled his eyes and looked away as he composed himself, " you need to go to bed John, goodnight."
John just wiped his face with his jumper sleeve and collected him self, "goodnight."