I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Not Always a Bad Thing

John sat down on the edge of the sofa, glad that at that moment Sherlock was out and wondering the city, talking with some of his Homeless Network. He had come home after a hectic day at the clinic, coughs, colds and other ailments that were common. His shoulder was aching thanks to the cold weather and the muscles were once again seizing up on him. He placed his right hand over the large starburst scar and rubbed it a little. He sighed in aggravation when the shirt just rubbed it wrong and it irritated him all the more.

He undid his shirt, glad once again that Sherlock was out as was Mrs Hudson, he didn't want to go up to his room, since it would be cold up there, though it wasn't that much better in the living room. He got up and went to the bathroom, grabbing a heat pack from there, hoping it would help a bit. He winced as the muscles spasmed once again, he sighed as he went back into the living room and placed the heat pad on it and pulled his shirt back on, but leaving it open.

He couldn't really feel much at the centre of the scar, the damage to the nerves there was extensive that all he could feel was pressure. The small spider web like scars coming from the centre were sensitive and more often than not, irritated by anything that touch it. It was something that he had to put up with. His muscles spasmed again, causing his hand to start to tremble a little. He looked down at it and sighed as he clenched his fist hoping it would go away. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, wanting the pack to hurry up and do its job.

XxXxX

Sherlock bound up the stairs, opened the door to the flat and walked in, only to stop and looked towards the figure that was relaxing on the sofa. He walked forwards a little more and could see that the other was asleep, weary lines marring his face. Sherlock easily deduced that he had a frantic day at the Clinic, only for it to be added to by his shoulder playing up. He stood in front of him and looked him over, he had a heat pad on his shoulder, though it was falling down slowly. The consulting detective could see the scar from the injury in Afghanistan and he couldn't help but wonder how John had survived. It covered the whole of his shoulder and even some of John's chest, though the scar lines were a little faint.

"John," he called out carefully as he waited for the other to listen to his voice and respond, "John," he called out once more as the man on the sofa began to wake up.

Blue eyes suddenly flew open, "Sherlock?" he asked a little puzzled as to where he had come from. He winced a little as his shoulder was still playing up, his hand flew to it and he went a little red in embarrassment as he could feel that the pack wasn't where he had placed it and had fallen away, though it hadn't done its job at all anyway. He removed it and was about to put his shirt on properly and button up. He didn't like the thought of anyone seeing his scar, he was even careful when he was dating.

"What's wrong with the shoulder?" he asked, wondering what it was that was causing him pain. He knelt down and stopped him from covering the scar up so he could finally get a good look at it, and then looked up to John.

"It spasms on occasions, because while I have a large range of motion with it, I don't have full motion and occasionally it spasms because of that, the muscles tighten and don't relax at all. Sometimes the heat pad helps, but as you can see, it doesn't always." John said, his voice quiet as he avoided Sherlock's piercing gaze.

Sherlock nodded his head and then watched in fascination as the muscles moved on their own once again, he could see the discomfort in his friends blue eyes. He reached his hands up and started to massage and manipulate the muscles, he could feel the tension and hardness of the muscles as he worked as best as he could, hoping it would be able to ease the pain a little.

John looked to him, his eyes going a little wide as he winced a little. It hurt, but he could already feel the tension beginning to ease, letting the muscles finally relax. Sherlock carried on, ignoring the questioning look as he worked out the knots and the tension and finally John felt the pain ease away as his muscles finally relaxed.

"Why did you do that?" John asked, wondering why his friend had done such a thing, Sherlock wasn't the type after all.

Sherlock looked to him and said, "You are my best friend John, and I do not like seeing my friends in pain." It was a simple answer and then he added, "You don't have to hide from me." Seeing as John was once again trying to quickly cover up.

The ex army doctor shook his head as he said softly, "No one likes seeing that."

Sherlock shot him a look and frowned, "Idiot," he said warmly, "It is part of you John, it what makes you, you. It shows everyone the type of man you are as well." He finished as he gave the other a small smile.

John frowned and shook his head, not really believe what Sherlock was saying, "Get real Sherlock."

Sherlock stood and began to pace, not liking that he wasn't being believed by John, who had always believed him before, "John, you are a caring individual, you will do all you can to help someone, even if that means getting hurt, and I have seen that myself on a number of occasions. You are brave and selfless as well. That scar shows that, since you got it in action while you were tending to the injuries of your comrades." He told him, his voice rising a little, hoping that the other would be able to see what he could.

John looked to him, a little shock at what his friend was saying, he was embarrassed, but was able to get a few words out, "I did my duty."

"Yes, you did do you duty, but since coming back, your duty is over, but you are still the same. You are my blogger, and you wouldn't be my blogger without that scar, because it is what brought you to me." Sherlock said, his voice going soft as he stood in front of the seated doctor, "you are my only friend, my best friend and to be honest, I don't know what I would do with out you." He smiled.

John thought for a moment and smiled back, "Maybe it can be seen as a good thing at times, but it took a lot away from me in the end, but yeah, it did give me my best friend."

Sherlock nodded and then said, "Get dress, we're going out."

John reeled back a little as he asked, "We have a case?"

Sherlock grinned and shook his head, "No I believe that it is time for dinner, and for once, I would mind a little to eat. So let us head to Angelo's."

John chuckled as he put his shirt on properly and did it up. He stood and soon the two were out of the door and on their way to Angelo's for dinner, though the doctor hoped they wouldn't end up running around London in the middle of it, he was quiet hungry now that he thought about it.