Unexpected

Chapter VIII

"Seriously?"

"Believe me, I could think of better ways to spend my time," Sherlock shot back annoyed, "but I don't want to carry you out of there once again."

Ouch, that one had been below the punchline. They were in a somehow heated argument over Jim wanting to take a shower only that Sherlock insisted on helping him. Not gonna happen, just at the thought of it Jim could feel himself... doesn't matter.

"You can just tell me if you want to undress me, Sherly," he mocked Sherlock, knowing that his Virgin would back down at his straight-forward tease. Jim earned himself a cold gaze, but knew he had won.

"I'm going to get you some towels and clothes."

"Not one of John's pyjamas, please!"

He got the most ugly sweatpants and shirt of Watson that Sherlock could find.

After a long time of Jim circuitously and not successfully trying to take a shower without wetting his bandages, he at least smelled like a human being again. The two flatmates really could need a visit of his charlady.

When Jim entered the living room again Sherlock had already prepared new bandages, his good ahead thinking boy. He sat down without a word and Sherlock, seeming to be still pouting, silently started undoing the wet and old bandages. Jim watched the long fingers of Sherlock doing their work, it had something beautiful about it, but only until he laid bare the first arm. Jim swallowed hard. It had healed quite well for the short amount of time. A scarlet red 'H' was forever carved into Jim's usually flawless skin. He was mad at himself for being so overly dramatic all the time and carving Sherlock's initials onto his arms. As if the whole situation hadn't been embarrassing enough. At least Sherlock showed enough tactfulness to not say anything.

A while later a soft touch on his upper arm ripped Jim out of his deep thoughts. Sherlock looked like he expected something.

"What?"

"I just asked whether it's okay that way."

It took Jim another moment to realize he had meant the already finished bandages. Jim twisted his arms carefully and a sharp pain shot them up. Bad idea.

"Yes, seems fine."

He caught up Sherlock's gaze.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what," Sherlock asked.

"Like you pity me."

Sherlock considered it a while.

"Sorry. You worry me."

"Did I hear that right? Where's the high functional sociopath?"

"Where's the high functional psychopath?"

Jim chuckled a bit.

"To be honest, I don't know."

And suddenly it all burst out of him.

"I made such a huge fucking mistake, for once I didn't pay enough attention. I should have seen it coming, but you, Sherlock, you messed with my head. You distracted me. You... I fucked up."

Moriarty could feel something twisting and twitching inside, he shook his head to get rid of the rising rage.

"I'm not functioning around you."

Moriarty took another deep breath swallowing what brewed up inside of him.

"You lost, Jim," the impression in his face showed Sherlock that this probably didn't come along he right way, "but, just one battle, not the war."

"What horrible facebook comment was that?"

"Jesus, I don't know what to do either. Day's ago I was wishing you dead and now I'm nursing you? Damn it Jim. I have not the faintest of an idea what's going on here either."

Suddenly Jim laughed out.

"What?" Sherlock madly asked.

"You know, I thought we two were the smartest people I know, but maybe," he was shaking from laughter, "we should consult your brother."

"You're an arse, Jim."

Sherlock could not help himself but smile. Apart from being a mass murdering maniac Jim was kind of really entertaining.

"And now?"

Jim shrugged, "Rematch of Cluedo?"

Jim was already half asleep when the bedroom door opened. In it a wet haired Sherlock appeared, wearing a baggy t-shirt and pyjama pants. Jim's heart skipped a beat. What cruel god was doing that to him?

"The sofa is hell," was everything Sherlock said when he laid down with a separate blanket, as far away as possible.

Jim would not shut one eye that night.... A few minutes later he was deeply asleep, and for once there was no need for Sherlock to stop him from screaming in his sleep. Although Jim would deny that until his dying day.