"Thank you, Sherlock.." John sighed happily, massaging his wrists where the cuffs had been slapped on. Standing next to the brunette by the front desk, he looked up to detective with a small smile. His blue eyes gleaming up thankfully at the taller male.
Sherlock had done what he promised - bailing out his best friend. He turned once finished signing something, and glanced down to John as he met his eyes a moment.
"It's fine..." he hummed quietly before noticing the marks on John's wrist, sighing a little as he took one of them softly, thumb brushing over the marks.
"They didn't hurt you did they?" He asked quietly, blue eyes full of concern as he slyly took John's pulse, wanting to see if it elevated at the soft touch of the detectives.
"Oh, no.. No. They didn't." John replied softly, glancing down, watching Sherlock slightly.
Of course his pulse was elevated, but what did that matter anyway?
"but punching Dimmock on the other hand.." the blogger smirked slightly, looking back up, "that hurt- just shows he's got a thick skull.." his eyes met Sherlock's once more as he let out a soft chuckle.
Sherlock noticed the elevated pulse immediately, eyes meeting John's almost intimately as he cleared his throat.
"What.. did you punch Dimmock for? You're not one to just lash out at anything." He deduced, slowly slipping his hand from John's as he watched him closely, eyes widening with admiration.
"He's an unsavory character that isn't really nice and, let's just say, he said some terrible stuff about a person I care a lot about.." John replied, feeling the loss of warmth from his hand as he moved to straighten his coat collar, "although, I have to admit.. I didn't find Lestrade or get to the bottom of any of it.." He admitted, looking away, "Dimmock is a right bastard." He muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Sherlock watched John closely before beginning to lead the way out of he police station, buttoning up his coat and flipping his collar up.
"Did he talk about Lestrade? Mrs Hudson?" He asked, not ever thinking it was about him. Of course, the detective knew people talked horrible things about him, but he didn't think he would be the centre of it when this was all about Lestrade.
The blogger simply shook his head in reply, as they walked down to the front door and outside, "Nope." He answered as they carried on walking, "someone closer, if I must say.." he said, watching the floor a little as they walked.
Sherlock frowned at this as they continued to walk before he hailed a cab, eyes fluttering a little at John in confusion.
"Your.. sister?" He asked innocently as he got into the cab with John, happy to be going home with the man once again.
"My sister?" John repeated after Sherlock, a little confused, "Dimmock doesn't even know my sister, Sherlock." He shuffled across the seat slightly, so the detective could sit down, "isn't it obvious, who it is?" He asked, looking out of the window.
Sherlock gazed to John as he said this, eyes locked on him as he tried to work it out before it hit him like a train.
"M-Me?" He asked quietly, blue eyes wide and innocent and beginning to fill with hurt that someone once again was taking the piss out of him.
"Oh.. John.. you didn't have to.. punch him for me.." he quietly uttered, blushing slightly as it his cheeks.
John smirked slightly, "yeah, I did.." he admitted, nodding lightly. "Nobody deserves to treat you like that and it annoys the hell out of me when they do." He admitted, feeling a bit of relief as talked.
Sherlock's eyes locked on John as he said this, glancing into his lap a moment with the blush now deepening on his cheeks.
"T-Thank you John.. no one had done that for me.." he quietly murmured with a innocent smile, gazing over to the army doctor with wide eyes.
"No problem.." John added softly, and kept looking out of the window, "you have no need to thank me.." he added quietly. He let out a soft sigh, "how was Mycroft?" He pondered, glancing back to Sherlock.
Sherlock's gaze was locked on the window at all of this, hiding his blush.
"Annoying like usual. He was.. trying to give me life advice." He mumbled, clearing his throat a little, wanting to gaze right at John but knew his cheeks and eyes would give it all away.
"Oh, I see.." John replied simply, nodding a little before flashing a weak smile.
"Did he talk about anything in particular?" he wondered, raising an eyebrow. Looking to the front a little as he held his hands together on his lap. His knuckles, looking a little bruised, where he had punched the idiot that was Dimmock.
Sherlock kept his gaze out the window, though he glancing to John out the corner of his eye, seeing he had small bruises, the detective feeling rather guilty that he inflicted pain on himself for him.
"Oh.. just.. the usual nonsense. How I am going to spend my life.. alone or.. in a relationship..." he let slip, wanting to know John reaction to this.
"Well, that's understandable..." John replied after a moment, glancing to Sherlock. "I mean.." he paused, swallowing slightly, "we've all got to find someone someday, haven't we?" He asked, looking back out of the window. Wondering to himself what mycroft could had said to Sherlock.
Sherlock fell silent at this, slowly gazing over to John with the widest, almost dilated eyes.
"Yes.. I suppose so..." he hummed quietly, glancing to John's hand as he saw the bruises, sighing a little as he took his hand into his palm, thumb softly tracing them.
"What did Dimmock say to cause you to punch him that hard?" He asked, still holding to John's hand as he gazed intently at their interlinked hands.
John felt surprised at the detectives hand holding his and he looked over, to their hands,
"He was just talking like Donovan.. it wasn't a lot." He sighed, "it doesn't hurt.." he added, glancing up to Sherlock.
But of course it did actually hurt, he just didn't want the detective to feel guilty about it. In fact, he had only realised he had snapped when Dimmock's nose was practically flattened onto his face.
"I don't think Dimmock's going to want me to go in Scotland Yard anymore, that's for sure.." he smirked lightly.
Sherlock's eyes followed his thumb as it traced his knuckles, knowing exactly that it hurt and he let out a shaky sigh before smiling at the last comment.
"Mm well.. if I want you there than I am having you there." The detective stated as he hesitantly and reluctantly let go of his hand as they arrived at Baker Street.
John sighed at the warmth and nodded, "well, I suppose we can try do something tomorrow about Greg.." he said, getting out of the car and kept it open for Sherlock as he paid the cabbie, "I'm absolutely exhausted.." he muttered.
Sherlock stepped out the cab, straight away heading for the door as he opened it for John.
"Why don't.. you have a nap? Or something? I'll.. sit with you if that helps you.." he asked quietly, the slight pink tint to his cheeks returning.
"If you want to.." John replied, going inside and looking back at the detective, "did you know if mycroft left or not?" He asked tiredly.
"No idea.. I'll just chuck him out." Sherlock smirked as he took off his coat, heading up the stairs, glancing back to John.
"I just want to make sure... you're okay.." he blushed a little.
YOU ARE READING
A Study In Sleep
Fanfiction-- It's been months since Sherlock has returned and he's beginning to feel something for his blogger. It first starts off with them both falling asleep on the sofa together and John not opening up about things. Will John open up and will they discov...
