Loyal (Johnlock)

Random Helpful Drunks (Sherlock's POV)

I had been wandering angrily around St. Bart's, but John had never even made it to work today. Now I had somehow managed to end up in the most decrepit neighborhood of London. My phone suddenly vibrated in my pajama's pocket. I hissed, expecting it to be from that bastard Moriarty, but was pleasantly surprised to see John's contact instead. I noticed that he had shared his location.

"Brilliant, hedgehog." I whispered adoringly. I unlocked my phone and quickly clicked on the image of the map. A small red blinker showed up. I clicked start but, as if the universe was trying to kill me and ruin everything, my phone died. I stared at it for a moment. I desperately clicked the on button, the phone telling me to plug it in to a power source.

"Dear God," I muttered with tears in my eyes, "no, no, no, NONONO!" I began to shout the syllable until it had lost any semblance of meaning. It was now just a sound of fury and a heart breaking. After an infinite amount of time spent staring at the worthless phone and screaming the sound of the world ending I began to come back to reality. I felt a hand resting on my shoulder and a worried sounding voice penetrating my clouded thoughts.

"WHAT?" I snarled and whirled upon the person. A small delicately built woman jumped back at my sudden acknowledgement of her presence.

"I'm...I'm sorry! I just thought to make sure you were okay!" Her hair was black and graying, prematurely. She was heavily drinking last night and crying. I read her life story from all the clues she unwittingly gave me. My breathing was ragged and came out in shuddering gasps. Emotions raged for dominance, blocking my thoughts from going anywhere important.

"Stop it!" My vision was clouding as I reprimanded myself.

"Ex-excuse me?" Her eyes were wide with fear for both me and herself.

"Not you!" I shook my head. When that didn't work I slapped myself. My swing sent my head snapping to the side and a hiss rushed through my lips.

"Oh!" She took a step forward before hesitating there, "Should I...should, umm, I call someone?" She asked. Her voice was thick with fear as she pulled a phone from her back pocket.

"John!" I lunged toward her, hands outstretched, and she smartly stepped out of my reach.

"Woah there, mister!" She held her hands in front of her face and I held myself back with difficulty, "Just, be calm okay? I'm going to need his number to call John, okay?" She spoke in soothing tones.

"John Watson!" I couldn't think straight as emotions kept grumbling and growling in my head.

"Deep breathes, sir. I need a number if I am to call him, okay?" Her eyes were wide. Fear. She was thinking about calling the cops, but wanted to try and help me first. I quickly spat out John's number as she hurriedly typed it in and called it.

"Tell him Sherlock! Sherlock!" I gasped tearfully.

"What I the HELL is wrong with me? Be emotionless, Sherlock! Don't want another repeat of Redbeard, now do we?" The voice in my head sneered as it tore my heart from my chest and threw it away. I was suddenly back to the cold and calculating Sherlock. It was like being hit full force in the face with ice cold reasoning.

"Yes, hello, I'm calling in place of a man called Sherlock?" She spoke into the phone and waited patiently, "He's kinda in hysterics right now, so I'm not sure..."

"Give it to me." She looked shocked at the sudden dramatic change in my demeanor. I held my hand out impatiently.

"Oh, never mind, here he is..." A look of skepticism masked her face as she carefully handed me the phone.