Don't Be...Dead

22- Going Home

(John)

They kept me for 5 days after that. I would recover and blah blah blah, they just wanted to keep me to be sure. In those 5 days Sherlock left my side all of once, and only because I insisted that he go home and at the very least change out of his shirt that was covered with blood. Sherlock brought me some clothes. When I was released he waited while I changed out of the hospital gown that they had put me in at some point. When I was done he handed me my old cane. "What’s this for?" I asked, eyeing the cane with distaste. I hadn’t used it since I had met Sherlock.

"To steady you until you’re fully recovered. The nurses insisted." I took the cane, though I wasn’t sure how long I would actually use it, especially if Sherlock had a case anytime soon.

We went out and Sherlock caught a cab for us, directing the cabbie to our flat. I laid my head back and felt my eyes droop, a yawn caught in my throat.

"Get some sleep." I looked up to see Sherlock staring down at me. "I’ll let you know when we get back to the flat." I nodded, resting my head on Sherlock’s chest and letting my droop eyes close.

(Sherlock)

I placed my arm gingerly around Johns shoulder and drew him close to me, feeling the warmth radiating off his sleeping body. My eye caught a slight movement and I looked up to see the cabbie scowling at us through his rearview mirror. I glared at him and he looked away. Why couldn’t people treat us normally? I mean, I understood why people I knew didn’t treat me normal, but I had never deduced the cabbie out loud. No, he was just acting like this because he a homophobic git. Why were people like this? I mean, it wasn’t as if we were aliens or I had grown a second head or tried to take over the world. I just loved a male. Big deal.

The cabbie turned onto Baker Street. I pecked John on the forehead and nudged him. The cabbies grip on the wheel tightened but he said nothing.

"We're here." He sat up and looked out the window. The cabbie breathed out a sigh as John moved away from me and he pulled the cab out to the curb. John hobbled out onto the sidewalk with his cane and I pulled a couple notes out of my pocket. "Were still people ya know." I muttered as I threw the money into the front and got out. I helped John up to the flat and sat him in his chair before making him some tea and turning to leave again. I was going to find that sniper, and then I was going to give him hell.