This will probably be very out of character and short, but i don't care. Hehe
Sherlock doesn't belong to me, yadda yadda
John looked at the body. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The child, the blood. He was disgusted. He couldn't look and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away. How could someone do this to a child, their own child? A tear his eyes away from the body of the seven year old girl. She had her eyes open and the fear was so deeply etched in them, John could picture the torture that this girl had been through, the dead, lifeless eyes showed the life she lived, told a story.
This girl, Samantha, reminded John too much of his own life as a child. The terror. The unnatural fear of someone who is supposed to protect you. The thoughts that this abuse produces. They are not for the faint of heart. Everyone thinks we live in an ideal world, thought John bitterly. Everyone thinks that all children are protected by their parents, nurtured.
"look away, John," comes a whisper.
He knows this voice, a friend? Lover? Sherlock! John turns to look at his lover. He sees the concern in the sociopath's eyes. He knows he shouldn't look, but he can't help his gaze falling back upon this tragedy. He doesn't notice the tears on his cheeks until he feels Sherlock wipe them away. He wonders when Sherlock walked in front of him to block his view of the body. He wraps his hesitant arms around John (still finding public displays of their relationship to be difficult) and puts his mouth next to his ear.
"Let's go home."
Sherlock sat in the taxi, his arm around the sleeping John. He wondered when the ghost of John's past would stop haunting him. Sherlock, having grew up in a loving home, knew nothing of what John dealt with day after day. He felt privileged that he was the one that the army medic had decided to let all the way in.
He tightened his arm around John and smiled softly. John had been the first person to ever try to care about him (excluding mummy of course) He didn't want to lose that. He knew a good thing when he had it. John had helped him, now it was his turn to help John. Help him to fight his demons.
Told ya it would be short – i will write a back story to this if people ask for it. If not, then just let your imagination run wild with what John's Demons are.
Reviews plz, criticism welcome, but if you are gonna criticize, please tell me how to improve, don't just slag the story off.
Many thanks, EC