Loving a Holmes

The Domestic.

As John had suggested I head back to the flat, on the off chance that Sherlock had gone back there. When I get there Mrs. Hudson is cleaning up the flat. "Mrs. Hudson, you really don't have to do that."

"Of course, I don't. But with Sherlock being in hospital and you being so worried about him, it's the least I can do to help." I smile softly, clearly tired from only getting a few hours sleep over the past few days. It is normal for me to only get a few hours a night when Sherlock and I are working on a case, but the added stress of him being in hospital has drained me, both mentally and physically. "Why don't you take a nap, my dear? When you wake up you can come and help me clean, yeah?"

I take a deep breath nod, before heading to the bedroom. Falling onto the bed when I get there, I don't think I was even awake when I hit the bed. Three or four hours later I wake up and walk back out into the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson had almost everything cleaned, there were only a few things that needed put away. I glance around the room. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. You're too kind to us."

As she shrugs John opens the door of the living room at 221B and walks in, sighing quietly. John takes off his jacket and drops it onto the table. Mrs. Hudson is in the kitchen but now hurries towards him worriedly. Mary walks through the door. "John, Mary." Mary gives her a small smile and walks towards the fireplace while John stands by the dining table with his hands on his hips. Sherlock hobbles to the doorway and stops there, bracing himself with one hand on the edge of the open door. Mrs. Hudson looks around shocked. "Oh, Sherlock! Oh, good gracious, you look terrible."

"Get me some morphine from your kitchen. I've run out." Sherlock leans against the door frame.

"I don't have any morphine!"

"Then what exactly is the point of you?!"

She presses her lips together for a moment, then looks around at everyone. As I step up next to her, looking over at Sherlock. "What's going on?"

"Bloody good question." John sighs.

Sherlock looks over to John, "The Watsons are about to have a domestic and fairly quickly, I hope, because we've got work to do."

"Oh, I have a better question." John paces towards Mary, looking angrily at her. "Is everyone I've ever met a psychopath?"

Still at the door, Sherlock's eyes lift upwards as if he's thinking. While Mary and I shrug and nod, looking at each other. "Yes... Good that we've settled that. Anyway, we..." Sherlock nods.

John turns towards him furiously. "SHUT UP!"

Mrs. Hudson jumps at the loudness of his cry and puts one hand to her mouth. "Oh!"

"And stay shut up, because this is not funny. Not this time."

"I didn't say it was funny." Sherlock shakes his head.

John turns his head to look at Mary. "You." He turns to face her. When he speaks, his voice and his face are full of barely-controlled anger and he frequently breathes heavily throughout his next words. "What have I ever done... hmm?... my whole life... to deserve you?"

Sherlock places his right hand on the door post. "Everything."

John, in the same tone as before, turns to face him and steps towards him. "Sherlock, I told you... shut up."

As John steps forward, I move around Mrs. Hudson and between the boys. "He's right, John."

Sherlock nods continuing his thought. "Everything... everything you've ever done is what you did."

John sighs and replies very softly and dangerously. "Sherlock, one more word and you will not need morphine."

I sigh softly. "John, you will have to go through me to get to him."