A Chance To Stay Alive - Johnlock

19) Sherlock the Dweeb

Sherlock awoke promptly the next to morning to the sound of John's gentle breathing filling the room. He slowly propped himself up against the pillow and soon the events of last night were beginning to flood back to him. John had actually said it. And he himself had even said it to. I love you. With a small smile, the curly-haired boy gazed down at his roommate, who was now curled up on the end of the bed in a deep sleep, before grabbing his phone from the bedside table. There were a few unread text messages from last night; mainly from people like Greg and Molly had the news had spread to, who were promising to come and visit him soon, however the last was from Mycroft.

Last chance to spend Christmas Day with mother and I. She wants us to spend time as a proper family again -MH

Sherlock rolled his eyes at this and shoved his phone back onto the table, grumbling slightly as he leant back against his pillow. The last thing Sherlock wanted was a proper family again, he wanted to stay at 221b Baker Street - with John. However the boy's thoughts were soon broken by knocking at the door, as a few moments later Doctor Holland had entered, hands dug into his pockets.
"Morning Sherlock," he greeted the curly-haired boy brightly.
"How're you feeling?"
Sherlock scoffed slightly before clutching to his covers and watching the young man.
"Like hell," he hummed smoothly.
Doctor Holland gave a small nod before turning to gaze to John, who was still curled up asleep.
"I asked the nurses to let him stay the night," he explained smoothly, folding his arms.
"You didn't mind did you?"
They curly-haired boy quickly shook his head as he watched the doctor.
"When can I leave?" He asked smoothly, resting his hands on his stomach.
Doctor Holland didn't respond at first, instead he pursed his lips for a moment before letting his arms hang by his side.
"This morning," he confirmed.
"I just need a quick talk about your plans then you can leave."
Sherlock gave an understanding nod before slowly getting to his feet and stumbling after the man, closing the door behind them and leaving John.

•••••••••••••••••

"I can't believe it!" The curly-haired boy cried in outrage as the two made their way from the hospital entrance an hour later.
John walked in silence, his face soft and thoughtful as he helped his flat mate down the road in his newly-given wheelchair.
"You need it Sherlock," he persisted, tapping the handle of the chair as they crossed the street into Baker Street.
His flat-mate scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair and glancing over to the blonde boy as their eyes met for a moment. John chuckled slightly and sighed.
"You're mad Sherlock Holmes," he hummed with a smile.
The curly-haired boy broke into a wide grin and turned back around in his seat.
"Yes I must be," he agreed with a laugh.
"Though what fun is it being ordinary."
It wasn't long until the two boys arrived at 221b; John stopped Sherlock beside the steps before fumbling around in his coat pocket for his keys. However it was soon evident that keys weren't needed as the door suddenly swung open, revealing Mrs Hudson stood before them, her eyes nervous and worried.
"Oh boys!" The landlady cried, hurrying forward and pulling them both into a big hug.
John gave into Mrs Hudson whereas Sherlock simply sat there groaning until she let go of him.

"Sherlock what happened!?" She continued, her voice obviously croaky from crying.
"I heard a little from Molly but I had no idea the full extent!"
The blonde boy frustratedly bit his lip as he helped Sherlock up the steps of the flat nervously, longing just to get inside into the peace and quiet.
"Mrs Hudson I promise I will explain everything after," he eventually huffed, closing the door behind them and folding his arms. The landlady gave a quick nod before turning her gaze to the curly-haired boy.
"I'll make some tea," she decided, scuttling off into the kitchen.
Sherlock watched her leave for a moment before getting shakily to his feet and attempting his way up the staircase, only for John to come running after him before he fell, slipping around his back for support. After a few failed attempts, both boys eventually made it up into there flat as Sherlock fell with a relieved sigh back into his usual armchair.
"Glad to be home?" John asked with a nervous smile, taking a seat in his own chair before glancing up at his flat mate.
Sherlock gave a swift nod before resting his arms on the side.
"Definitely," he hummed.
The blonde boy chuckled slightly just as Mrs Hudson arrived, this time carrying a tray of teacups accompanied with a plate of custard creams.
Sherlock took his cup by the handle and took a small sip, watching John from the corner of his eye, a small grin tugging at his lips.

••••••••••••••••••

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Sherlock in-fact spent most of it sprawled out on the sofa wrapped protectively in his dressing gown, scrolling through his laptop looking for an interesting case. On the other hand, John spent the day watching over the curly-haired boy, his stomach filled with butterflies. It was the evening when Sherlock returned from his shower, dressed in his pyjamas whilst he dried off his hair with his towel. John glanced up from his newspaper at the sound of the lock sliding on the door and the twos' eyes met for a moment.
"I'm going to have an early night," the curly-haired boy eventually decided, striding off towards his bedroom, his gown flailing behind him. There was a pause for a moment before he stopped and peered his head around the wall, a small surprising grin on his pale face.
"You're welcome to join me if you want."
John stumbled to his feet and gave a quick nodded, his heart racing as the replayed the boy's words in his head.
"R-right," he squeaked, changing quickly into his tartan pyjamas before heading down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

"My bed I insist," John told Sherlock, leaning back against the wall with a smile.
"Right, er, yes," The curly-haired boy stuttered in agreement, following John into his bedroom as both of them slumped down onto the double bed. Sherlock propped his head against his pillow as he suddenly felt John's head roll onto his lap. He smiled to himself as his fingers interlocked with the blonde boy's, giving his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Nobody said anything and the two lay enjoying the moment in comfortable silence, Sherlock listening to John's soft breathing.
"John," Sherlock hummed quietly, feeling light-headed and sleeping, most likely from the hospital drugs.
"Yeah Sherlock?" The blonde boy asked curiously.
"I do love you, you know."
John smiled slightly before giving a nervous chuckle and planting a small kiss on the boy's chapped lips.
"I love you too you dweeb," he replied smoothly, closing his eyes and resting upon the curly-haired boy's stomach.
Sherlock gazed at John in awe for a moment before eventually closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep, a small smile on his face.
He loved John Watson.

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