The story unfolds

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Week three, day four continued

"John?" Sherlock tentatively asked and he quietly walked in. "John, it's-"

"Sherlock?" his heart melted at the sound of his name falling out of his mouth, but began to panic when he saw that Johns normally happy and sparkling eyes were so cold and, hurt? "Why are you here?"

"I- I needed to make sure you were okay! Isn't that what people do?"

"Yes, but I was hoping that you would actually be here when I woke up, but it was Molly that I woke up to! Wasn't it? Hmm? I wanted, more than anything, for you to-"

"I was there every bloody moment of every day that you refused to wake up!"

"So this is my fault?!"

"N-no! Of course not!"

"Wait, you- you were here? When I was sleeping?"

"Of course I was! The only reason why I wasn't there when you woke up is because, unlike these bloody idiots, I was trying to find out who the hell it was that-" he suddenly stopped. 

"You can say it, you know. That I was r-raped." "Shit. Here comes the bloody tears." he felt the lump in his throat form and the tears slowly fell. 

"John! No, no don't cry! Please?" he rushed over to the smaller boy and gently wrapped his arms around him. "It's okay, I'm here. Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise. Not while I'm around." they sat there for the better part of an hour, Sherlock holding and rocking a crying John. 

"Sherlock?" 

"Yes?"

"Can I tell you what happened?" 

"You, my dear Watson, can tell me anything. But only if you want to." 

"I want- no, I need to tell you." he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if he were there. "I was out, looking for you I guess, and it was so dark outside. I couldn't see anything and- and I got lost. I kept calling your name, hoping you'd find me, hoping that you came back and realized I was missing, that I wasn't asleep in my bed. Then, I heard him. He seemed so friendly, I couldn't help but feel so, so safe around him. He told me he would help me find you, and gently grabbed my hand." Sherlock could feel John as he shivered and pulled him closer. "Then, he hit me, and I fell. It was so cold and so dark, but I could feel the warmth of him as he climbed on me. He- he began to whisper these things in my ear and told me not to scream. To hold still. To do as he said. And then he-" John let out a sob.

"John, you don't have to tell me. Not all of it. Not now." he said as he climbed into the bed, still holding a shaking John.

"N-no I can't have this is me. I need someone to know, why not-" "the man I love?" "why not you?" Sherlock nodded, kissing Johns temple. "He started to undress me, but it was too dark so he grabbed something sharp and cut off my shirt, and kept slicing my skin as he did. Every time I winced in pain, he'd cut me deeper. He told me to take off my pants, and I had to obey. So I did. I- I took them off. It was so bloody cold, Sherlock!" he took a few shaky breaths before continuing. "Then he t-turned me over and-" he buried himself into Sherlock and screamed, trying to forget everything.

"John, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to save you. I'm so sorry that I left-"

"W-where did you go? What was so important that you had to leave and didn't come back for hours?!"

"I-I had to think, John. I've never had any friends, so I've obviously never had a relationship before. I- I'm so sorry!" they sat there for a few moments, neither saying a word. "John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Are we, uh, you know..."

"Dating?"

"Yes, that."

"Is that what you want?" Sherlock seemed to think this over for a moment.

"Yes, yes I think I do." John smiled at Sherlock and pulled him in, their lips brushing together for only a moment before frantically colliding together. The kisses were slow and welcoming, exactly what John needed. They pulled apart, smiling at one another. 

"John?"

"Yes, Sh'lock?" he replied groggily. 

"What did he whisper to you?" it broke his heart when John, who just moments ago, was so relaxed and free, was no tense and cold.

"Just slip away and believe you're mine, we've got the time now.. He just kept repeating that over and over and over!" 

"Why does that sound so familiar?" 

"It's actually a song." he whispered. No, it was so much more than that. He knew it from somewhere, he never listened to songs, not unless it was his own violin compositions. He tried and tried to search for it, he knew he heard it somewhere. Recent, shot, and repeated. Who was singing it?! "Sherlock, don't do this right now. Don't go into your mind palace. Please?" 

"Anything for you, love. Anything for you." and there they sat, both falling into a dreamless sleep. 

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