Sherlock oneshots

Sheriarty~ slowly

Sorry for the kinda long break again! I just sorta forgot about this book, I haven't been on Wattpad for a bit. But I'm here now, and ready to use what little inspiration I have to write some Sheriarty!

*TRIGGER WARNING*
Mentions of depression, anxiety, abuse and self harm. This is a kinda heavy chapter so just be careful if any of this effects you.

The night was cool and the wind brisk. The sky was dark, but very clear, each star shinning brightly next to one another. It was what some would call the perfect night.

However, Sherlock and Jim didn't really fall under that 'everyone' demographic.

Sherlock was snuggled up in his chair, writing down facts and deductions about his latest case. He wasn't really thinking about sleeping, this case just seemed way more interesting. Jim had gone to bed a bit ago, but the detective had a strange feeling he wasn't sleeping easy.

Every so often there would be a soft bang from the room down the hall, followed by a few groans and whimpers. Occasionally there would be a curse or two. Sherlock knew that Jim was having a hard time mentally recently, being as smart as he was it wasn't hard to work out. The reason for it however, Jim had kept under extremely tight wraps.

The constant noise of his boyfriend in the other room didn't effect the detective at first, but as it continued deep into the night he found himself.... worried. It was a new feeling for him, but one he'd grown more familiar with over the months of being with Jim. He was very unpredictable, and Sherlock was always on his toes. Worry was his default emotion when Jim came to mind.

"Jim?" Sherlock called, sounding as brisk and emotionless as possible as to not alarm his boyfriend. He heard some stirring. "Yeah?" The detective couldn't help smile at the roughness of Jim's tired voice, his Irish accent faint and soft. "Can you come here? I need a hand." He knew Jim wouldn't respond to something as brash as 'are you okay?', so subtlety would have to do.

A few seconds passed before the bedroom door opened, and the criminal emerged wearing some loose grey sweatpants and a black shirt. He smirked as he met eyes with Sherlock, strutting to sit in the chair opposite him. He was obviously tired and sleep deprived, but the detective let him try to keep his strong persona.

"What'd you need?" He chirped, running his hands threw his hair and leaning back. Sherlock went quiet and let his eyes wonder off. He tried to think of a reason, a task, but he honestly hadn't even expected Jim to come out of the room, better loan ask why he needed him. Jim rose his eyebrows, making Sherlock sigh.

"Company." He muttered. The shorter man lowered his brows. "Company?" He asked, lowering his head so he could see Sherlock's eyes. He gave a small nod, making Jim chuckle.

"That's not what you want, absolutely not what you want." He lent his head on his hand. "What do you really want?" Sherlock swallowed, rolling his eyes. "Fine, fine, I just wanted-" he stopped suddenly, his mind flicking back to the last time he'd tried to approach Jim about his issues.

"Jim please, I just want to know what's bothering you." Sherlock begged, only getting a grunt in reply from Jim. "I said no, Sherlock, it's none of your business." He snapped, going for the door. The detective threw himself in front of it, pushing against his partner to stop him from leaving.

"Yes it is, you're my boyfriend and i want to know you're safe from yourself." Jim merely laughed, his eyes getting shiny as Sherlock looked down at him. "Safe from myself? No ones safe from me, not even me! I don't need you to rescue me, I'm fine." He shoved his way past the taller man and ran out the flat. Those words stuck with Sherlock, 'I'm fine.'

"What?" Jim clicked his fingers, making Sherlock jolt back. He cleared his throat, locking eyes with Jim again. The shorter mans face seemed almost concerned. "Are you okay?" He asked. Sherlock straightened up. "I could ask you the same question." Jim tensed visibly, but the detective didn't back down.

"Course, I'm-"
"Don't say you're fine, Jim, we both know that's not true."

Jim's mouth formed a line as he fell silent. Sherlock felt his eyes prick with tears. He stood up and stood in front of Jim, taking his face in his hands. "We both know you're not fine."

Jim lent his face on Sherlock's hands, looking up and smiling sadly. "Since when were you so good at reading emotions?" He pressed his own hand against Sherlock's face, running his wrist down the taller mans neck. The detective cringed as he felt the bumpy lines on Jim's wrist run down his cold neck. The uneven scaring down his arm. "Since I started dating you."

"I'm worried about you Jim." Sherlock admitted, pain echoed in his voice. "I don't want you to hurt." Jim smirked. He lowered his hands to his lap and sat back in his chair, Sherlock sitting back into his own.

"Every night, I hear her screaming all over again. My mother. I hear her mocking tone, her hand landing against my face, her constant whines about me not being good enough. I thought I'd left the past behind me, but it's been stood in front of me all along." Sherlock could hear the strain in his voice.

The room fell silent.

"We're going to get through this, I'm going to help you through this."
"I've tried that for years Sherly, and im still here like this."
"Jim I-"
"It's too late for me Sherlock, it's probably best you accept that. I did long ago."

Sherlock looked away, sighing deeply. He took Jim's hand and pulled him towards himself, the shorter man falling into his lap. The detective held him tight, rubbing his back as he felt him relax.

Sleep was the first step, then, after a while, they could work on the rest. And Sherlock would make sure to work on the rest. It'd take time, but it was better than giving up on him.
Jim was difficult.

And Sherlock liked that.

That was- a shitty one. I'm so sorry that was terrible. I started off with inspiration then, boom, lost it all and just had to end it before I dug myself too deep of a hole. Hope it's okay, at least u know I'm not dead ¯\_(ツ)_/¯