Sherlock Ficlets

Freak

"That was completely out of line, Sherlock!" John yelled. Sherlock had felt the tension from the moment he deduced at the crime scene and all the way home. He had had a bad day, so his deductions were rather scathing. He'd thrown insult after insult at everyone, and, mistakingly, at John.

He hadn't meant to, but he was just there.

"John, I -"

"No, Sherlock! You're done talking. What you said to everyone - to me - no. I don't have to take this shit anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Yes, Sherlock. I'm leaving."

"Come now, John, I'm so-"

"No you're not. When are you ever sorry for anything?"

Sherlock flinched as if slapped. "John..."

In the heat of his rage, John turned from facing the kitchen and shoved Sherlock to the ground. Sherlock looked up at John, fear evident in his eyes.

"John, please -"

"I said you're done talking, dammit!" John hissed.

Sherlock looked away, refusing to let his tears fall.

John is leaving. John is leaving him. John is leaving because of him.

"Please stay," Sherlock whispered. "I - I need you."

"They're right you know," John mumbled. "I always tried to defend you when they talked, but they're right. You're nothing but a -"

"Freak," Sherlock's voice croaked. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

The one thing he always loved John for is that he never found him to be anything other than extraordinary. But now ... Now it hurts.

"I'm going to pack my things, and I'm leaving. For good. I just - I can't take this anymore, Sherlock. Don't come looking for me, don't tell Mycroft to do surveillance, just don't try to contact me. I've had enough."

John trudged upstairs, leaving Sherlock to sob on the living room floor.

He'd really done it now. He'd messed up the only good thing in his life, and now he could never get it back.

Sherlock wiped his face and brought his hand to his left trouser pocket, pulling out a black box. He stared at it for a while until he couldn't anymore and threw it across the room. He wrapped his arms around himself and let the tears fall freely. At the sound of the front door slamming shut, he lay down and curled into a fetal position as he silently cried out his sorrows.

John was gone.