It's perfectly natural, John.
  • Reads 6,220
  • Votes 340
  • Parts 37
  • Time 2h 57m
  • Reads 6,220
  • Votes 340
  • Parts 37
  • Time 2h 57m
Ongoing, First published Dec 24, 2019
Sherlock moves from 221B baker street... straight into his new boyfriends house.
One thing leads to another, and before he knows it Sherlock has been entangled into an abusive relationship.
When Lestrade calls Sherlock and John about a case, will the truth come to light?
Will Anderson and Donavan care about the truth?
The most important question is, will Sherlock be able to come to terms with what has happened?

Trigger warning: Abusive relationship, graphic abuse, arguing, manipulation, swearing, implied rape, referenced torture, self harm(later on)
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of it's characters.
All Rights Reserved
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Rules on the Fridge [A BBC Sherlock Holmes Fanfiction] (Completed) by SmotheredPsycho
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♪ First Names are for Lovers ♪ Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, living in a dated, shared flat with bullet holes in the wall, a skull on the mantle, and an absolutely catastrophic kitchen. It wasn't hard to get along, usually. John could handle Sherlock's bluntness and absolute disregard - or lack of knowledge - for people's feelings or sentiment. And Sherlock could handle John's questions about everything he said. John Watson: An army doctor, stationed in Afghanistan, shot in the leg, put out of commission. Psychosomatic limp; magically gone when he went on a case with Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes: High-functioning sociopath, and the only Consulting Detective in the world. He could read people, he could see crimes in the crime-scene; he could win. ♫ ♫ ♫ Sherlock Holmes went off the rails. He did an experiment that got him hospitalized after John found him on the scene. Lines were crossed. Rules were made. Everything was on the line - concentration on cases slowly dwindled, priorities were mixed, and absolutely everything was spinning. ♫ ♫ ♫ Good habits, bad habits, and everything in between. You have good habits, sure, and they have to be balanced out with bad habits. For most people, that's taking your vitamins every day crossed with cracking your knuckles. For Sherlock Holmes that was catching criminals and putting his life at serious risk every time. ♫ ♫ ♫
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He was looking at Sherlock Holmes. Yet not the one he would have expected. Distinctive changeable eyes, lined by a row of long dense lashes, showed an expression of a wild animal standing in the glare of approaching headlights. Of a man driven into a corner. Simply expressed, an expression of pure horror, something you don't see on a famous consulting detective most of the time. John opened his mouth, but after a realisation that he has no idea of what he wanted to say, he closed it again. He wasn't welcomed by a mutilated, smashed face. The severed spine could be ruled out straight away, and he seemed to have all his limbs as well. He felt an endless relief when he saw solid, uninjured skin where the blood flowed the last time. Nevertheless, the scene he was offered tugged the carpet under his feet and he had to admit (if a bit grudgingly) that Mycroft was right-he did not exaggerate when warning him it might be a shock. Trigger warnings: This story contains references to violence and its description, and also deals with self-esteem issues and body image. If something triggers you, please proceed with caution or reconsider if you want to continue reading. PS: English isn't my native language and I'm a bit unsure of my style, but I hope you will like it. Enjoy the story!