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Pain Never Wins

The days had passed and Saturday hit, today was the day Sherlock was going to give John his surprise. He had been preparing to see the look on his face when he received it, but unfortunately he had to cancel it. John didn't come down stairs, unless he needed to shower, or the restroom, or to eat something, apart from that he did not leave his room. It was killing Sherlock he tried to make a conversation but he would just ignore him. The bed they use to share was cold without John, it was silent for days, Sherlock hate it. Sherlock started to beg when John started going back to work.

"John please, don't leave, we need to talk", Sherlock sank to his knees.

"Why? Your not going to tell me shit", John shrugged his shoulders preparing his coffee for work. Sherlock was taken back, he didn't expect for John to reply back, in fact those were the only words that he has told him.

"I will, please, I will talk about it...but you'll be mad at me if I do", Sherlock stood up and sat in a chair and looked down to his knees. John shook his head, he kneeled down to Sherlock height, he placed a finger in his chin to lift his face.

"Why would I be mad at you, your having panic attacks because of the nightmares. I'm only mad because you didn't tell me", John tried to speak without anger, he put both his hands on both sides of Sherlocks face and said "Are you going to tell me what's causing these attacks or not?", John asked firmly.

Sherlock knew this was going to be difficult, for him to say and for John to hear, but he had to he wanted his John back. Sherlock nodded and breathed heavily.

"I have this weird sensation that one day...", Sherlock started slowly but stopped quickly, John's hands were the only thing that keep him from having an attack.

"That one day, what?", John removed his hands from Sherlock face and grabbed both his hand and intertwine them.

"...that one day I'll snap at you and become abusive to you or maybe to our children", Sherlock keep looking down at his knees in embarrassment, he felt more ashamed when John yanked his hands away brutally.

John kept pacing in front Sherlock, he stopped, Sherlock could feel John's eyes in him. John grabbed a fistful of Sherlocks hair with both of his hands and yanked his head up. Sherlock hissed in pain and looked at his furious husband, Sherlocks didn't move waiting for John to make his move. John slowly press their foreheads together, he could hear John's angry breathes against his face. They stayed there for two minutes until John let go to his hair. John seems to calm down a bit, he looked at Sherlock and slapped him across the face with full force. Before Sherlock could regain his thoughts John slapped him again with more force than before.

"FUCK YOU!", John screamed and kicked the table.

He grabbed his coffee and left out the door without another word. Sherlock was left to himself and to his thoughts, out of nowhere he started to cry, he fell out of his seat and huddled himself in the corner of the kitchen. He held his knees up to his chest and cried, he cried because of so many reasons. That's how he stayed for the entire morning, until Mrs. Hudson came up with his daily afternoon tea. She saw the small bruise on his left cheek, she knew obviously, she went downstairs and stayed close to her door to hear John one in the door. She was going to have a stern talk with him.
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John slowly entered her flat to pay some bills, but was surprise by a flying spoon that hit him in the arm, John hissed. Another came and hit his collarbone, he looked up at Mrs. Hudson who had a handful of spoons in her hand, ready to be thrown at.