Fight for Me

Chapter 23

When John came down the stairs from his room, he was met with a sight that he never thought he would ever see. Lydia was curled up with her head in Sherlock's lap, sleeping peacefully. Sherlock, much to John's surprise, had his arm resting across her shoulders and didn't seem at all bothered by their position, scrolling through his phone with his free hand.

Even though Sherlock hadn't acknowledged John's presence, John knew Sherlock was aware he was there, yet still he made no attempt to detach himself from Lydia or cover anything up. Instead he just continued focusing on his phone while John remained firmly planted at the bottom of the stairs with a look of shock plastered on his face.

"Are you just going to stand there all morning?" Sherlock finally asked in an exasperated tone, but he kept his voice quieter than normal so as to not wake up the woman sleeping on him.

This only made John more confused. "I'm sorry, what- why is she- Sherlock, what the hell is going on here?"

At this, Sherlock raised his gaze to meet John and furrowed his brows, "what do you mean?"

"You and Lydia?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "yes?"

"Why is she sleeping on you?"

"Oh, that is unimportant," Sherlock replied, turning his attention back to his phone.

So John walked over and ripped the device out of his hand. Before Sherlock could protest, John snapped in a hushed tone, "no, this is not unimportant, what happened?"

Sherlock's eyes hardened as he growled, "give me back my phone."

"No, not until you give me answers."

"Fine."

With that, Sherlock began to stare off into the distance and John knew immediately that he was off in his mind palace, which unfortunately was something that John could not take away from him until he behaved. He huffed in annoyance and stomped over into the kitchen, putting the kettle on in an attempt to distract himself from the scene in the other room and the frustration with Sherlock's childish behavior.

"Do you guys always fight like this in the morning?" A voice laced with sleep inquired as Lydia rose her head of off Sherlock's lap and stretched out her arms. As she moved, Sherlock removed his arm from around her, letting it fall next to him.

With Sherlock not seeming to want to answer, Lydia looked over at John, who appeared quite embarrassed that she may have heard his pestering of Sherlock. He quickly cleared his throat and offered her a small smile, "er, good morning, Lydia, sorry we woke you."

"Oh don't worry, I was probably going to get up soon anyway," she assured John as she brushed some loose strands of her brunette hair behind her ear.

Sherlock didn't glance up at her as he mumbled, "not likely."

Choosing not to justify his statement with a response, Lydia merely rolled her eyes and got up from the couch. As she walked into the kitchen, "do you boys have anything for breakfast?"

Noticing that she was going for the refrigerator, John quickly tried to stop her, "oh, I wouldn't do that if I were-"

Too late. Lydia had already opened the door, her eyes landing on the severed human head resting on the middle shelf. But much to John's surprise, there was only a momentary moment of shock that passed through Lydia's eyes and then she muttered, "well that certainly won't do for breakfast."

"Fancy some eggs, John?" She asked as she reached in to grab them.

"Er, yeah, sure," he stuttered, watching her curiously as she closed the fridge and started looking around the kitchen for a pan to cook them in. He quickly broke out of his trance and handed her one, "here, you can use this."

Lydia smiled, "thanks, John. I don't suppose Sherlock is one for breakfast, is he? He refused to eat anything when we were in Edinburgh."

"Yeah, he claims eating slows him down."

She glanced back at the detective, who hadn't moved since she left the couch. "Well, perhaps I can convince him to have a little something."

John nodded, his attention being pulled away from Lydia as the kettle boiled. As he fixed the tea, he finally asked, "Lydia, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what did happen between you and Sherlock last night?"

"Oh, it was nothing. He was just trying to be nice, an attempt to get me to trust him, I suppose," she replied absentmindedly as she dropped an egg into the pan, filling the kitchen with a satisfying sizzle.

"Sherlock was being nice?"

"Trying to," she corrected John with a smile. "He made me some tea after guessing, correctly of course, that I would wake from a nightmare halfway through the night."

"Still, I don't think Sherlock has ever tried to be nice to anyone."

"You two do realise that I can hear you, correct?" Sherlock interjected, not looking up from his device.

John quickly shot back, "why should we mind, I thought you didn't care what people thought of you?"

"I don't," he replied curtly and then threw his mobile onto the couch in frustration. "I need a case, John."

"Don't you already have one?" Lydia spoke up as she carefully watched the eggs cooking so they didn't burn. "Or have you given up trying to prove me a criminal?"

"Can't do much more without you or one of your friends being truthful with me. John, you don't happen to have any inclination to go to America, do you?"

"You're not going to be interrogating them. They have to focus on their performances and they certainly aren't going to be telling anything that you want to hear," Lydia answered before John had a chance to.

"Trained as well as you, then?"

"Nope, they just don't have anything to hide." Lydia spared the detective a quick glance and added, "and neither do I."

Sherlock's lips twitched upwards in disbelief at her comment but, much to her surprise, he did not press the matter further. Instead, he simply crossed through the kitchen and disappeared into his bedroom. Lydia turned back to her eggs and started to dish them out onto a plate. She then grabbed some bread to toast, hoping to provide a bit more to the breakfast but not feeling up to rummaging through the fridge again in search of bacon.

John and Lydia had both taken servings for themselves and were eating together when Sherlock finally emerged, fully dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. He tried to walk past the two of them, but Lydia reached out and grabbed his arm, nodding to the food, "eat something."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "I don't want any."

"You just said yourself that you need a case, which means you aren't currently working and don't need to starve yourself so that you don't slow down your brain," she argued, causing John to chuckle lightly.

"She's got you there, mate." Sherlock looked at John with betrayal, upset that he was siding with Lydia on this matter. "Come on, Sherlock, just eat a bit."

With a sigh, he sat down and placed a small amount of eggs on the plate Lydia had laid out for him. Frowning at his small portion, she placed a piece of toast next to the eggs, earning a glare from the detective.

She grinned at him in response, "don't make me force it down your throat."

"I'd like to see you try," he challenged her, but reluctantly took a bite of the toast, much to John's surprise.

-

(A/N): Just some domestic life at the flat for you all, we'll start getting to clients and cases soon, I promise! Imma head out now because I have a job interview tomorrow (which I shouldn't be stressing out about as much as I am it's literally for a slightly over min wage part time job but I've never actually had a real?? Job interview before and adulting is scaring even though I've been an adult now for a while). Anywho, enjoy the chapter!