Friends Protect People (Johnlock)

All's well ends well

A/N: yes I know this chapter is long overdue (sorry!) but here it is! I'm not very good at endings, but I tried to tie everything up in here, so yeah..

*Ahem* I want to do an epilogue but I'm not sure when I'm going to post it so the story will be marked as completed until then. Also if you have something you want me to add into the epilogue, feel free to leave a comment and I'll take it into consideration.

This chapter is dedicated to zenith_lovegood for making the awesome cover that I am now using. Thanks so much!

Here's the last chapter (*sobs* my baby) thanks so much for reading the story and for all your votes and comments on it I love you all so much (sorry for sounding creepy I'll go stand at a respectable distance now)

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(John’s POV)

We left the hospital a little over 2 weeks later, Sherlock grumbling about his sling the whole way out.

            “I don’t know why I have to keep wearing this.” He muttered, getting into the cab.

            “They need you to rest your arm so you don’t pull out the stiches.” I chastised.

            “Resting is boring.”

            “I know.” I sighed, leaning against him. Sherlock shifted in his seat to move his arm around me.

            “Are you alright?” He asked when I had winced.

            “My arm is a bit sore.” I admitted, grinding my teeth to be quiet. They had to wheel me out of the hospital in a wheelchair, and I had to spend the next month on crutches because of my leg. Sherlock tilted my chin up towards him and softly pressed a chaste kiss to my lips.

            “Feel better now?” He asks and I hum in approval.

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(Sherlock’s POV)

I got out of the cab first, helping John get onto his crutches on the way out. Throwing the cabbie a note, we walked up the familiar steps to 221B where Mrs. Hudson was holding open the door for us.

            “Oh, Let me get you a cuppa John, you need to rest.” She fussed over John, leading him to his chair while politely shooing me out of the way. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see what was so important.

Triple homicide. No obvious clues, can you come down to the yard? –GL. I frowned at my phone. I thought John had told him that I was taking the next couple of weeks off.

I believe I am on what you would call vacation. Did you try contacting Callum? –SH I texted back. The answer came almost immediately.

I tried calling him, he wouldn’t answer. –GL  That sounded suspicious. After the whole ordeal with Moriarty was over, Lestrade had hired Callum as a full-time detective.