One-Shots

Will you do this for me? [Johnlock]

Sherlock ran his hands through his hair again, letting out an agitated sigh as John ranted. About what you might ask? Well, Sherlock had come up with a brilliant plan.

A brilliantly stupid plan.

Sherlock knew the plan was stupid, and there was probably a better solution, but they didn't have the time. Three kids had been kidnapped from their homes just outside of London, and most likely by a convicted child molester named Orion Potter, someone Sherlock had put away years ago but had been recently released. John, who was strongly opposed to this plan, had been listing everything that could go wrong for the past half hour, even if he did know that Sherlock had spent a good few hours in his mind palace imagining these scenarios himself.

"John! Don't you think I thought of every possible flaw this plan has?! It would require us using a child as bait! And even for me that is a bit extreme, but it's the fastest plan of action we have right now..." Sherlock sighed and placed his head in his hands, groaning. He could really use a cigarette.

"Sherlock...I'm sorry. I just...isn't there any other way?" John sighed and sat down in his chair, facing Sherlock with a determined look.

"There probably is, John. But we don't have the time to think of one." Sherlock straitened up and gave John an almost pleading look. "Please, won't you do this for me?"

A heavy silence hung in the air as Sherlock's words sunk in. Before Sherlock had realized what he had said it was too late, it was out in the open. John stared blankly at Sherlock, his hands clenching around the arms of his chair. All was silent for a moment before John began shaking and a sob escaped his mouth, which caused him to raise a hand to cover his face. "John...I'm- I'm sorry...I did-didn't mean to- I-" Sherlock stuttered, his mind blanking. He had no clue how to truly comfort people. John shook his head at Sherlock's failed attempt at an apology, muffled cries making themselves known to Sherlock by crushing his heart with every one that John released. Sherlock hesitated before he stood and slowly walked towards John, kneeling in front of him and removing John's hand so that he could see the doctor clearly. "John...I am truly sorry. I should be more careful but...it just slipped out. I apologize immensely, John."

John once again shook his head and merely leaned forward, his face meeting with Sherlock's shoulder. He clutched the blue bathrobe Sherlock always wore around the house tightly, like he was afraid Sherlock might disappear again. Sherlock sighed and awkwardly patted John's back with one hand, while his fingers on the another one combed through John's hair. "I-I'm sorr-sorry- I just- just-" John stuttered through his crying. Sherlock closed his eyes briefly as a feeling of guilt fell heavily in his stomach.

"It's okay..." John shook his head in response to Sherlock's statement. "Alright...I suppose it's not. But once again, John. It is what it is..."

-

Later that evening John and Sherlock were sat in the sitting room. Little Rosie who had only just turned one was sat on the floor watching Barney while banging her Dora figurine off the floor. Sherlock and John had moved to the couch which they had pushed closer to the t.v. so that they could watch the telly together on a more comfortable piece of furniture.

It was really because both wanted to be closer to each other than they could be in their chairs without it being obvious. Neither would admit it, though.

Suddenly Sherlock leaned forward to pull off his jumper (it was really John's which he had stolen as he was cold and had no comfy clothes to warm him.) As Sherlock pulled the garment over his head, Sherlock's shirt came up with it, exposing a plethora of scars, all different sizes and scattered on every inch of visible skin. John had happened to look over while Sherlock was doing this, and gasped as he saw the scars. Sherlock, ever the observer, heard the gasp and it only took him a few seconds to know why it had happened. "Sherlock? What happened-?" John cut himself off as he reached over to inspect the scars, looking at Sherlock for permission. Said man hesitated before nodded and looking at the floor, clutching the jumper in his hands. Rosie seemed to have realized something was happening, that or she was just tired, as she had begun falling asleep on the floor, her hand slowly releasing it's grip on the toy.

John pushed Sherlock's shirt up further as Sherlock explained what had happened to give him such scars, waiting until he finished to say what he was most afraid to. "...I got these the night I came back," John paused as his mind rushed back to that night, and soon after quickly realized why Sherlock had seemed hesitant to tell him the last bit. The doctors hands fell limply by his side and Sherlock turned quickly to watch his reaction.

"I...I'm so sorry. Christ Sherlock, I'm so sorry. I didn't know," John muttered, looking up at Sherlock with sad eyes, grabbing his hand. The detective shook his head and smiled at John as if to say 'it's okay', patting his hand. John pulled Sherlock into their second hug today, his hand resting in Sherlock's curly hair. Sherlock blushed a small bit at the act of physical contact, but hugged John back a bit more comfortably than earlier that day.

"This is quite the amount of physical contact today, John. I didn't know you were much of a hugger," Sherlock lied, causing John to chuckle into his shoulder.

"Lies, Sherlock Holmes. All lies," John laughed as he pulled away, looking at Sherlock fondly as he shook his head. Sherlock let out a deep chuckle and gave John a similar look.

"You know me too well, my dear Watson,"