Stranger: No. -SH
You: What do you think it means?-JW
Stranger: I have no interest in the matter. -SH
You: I think we are out of milk...-JW
Stranger: I never get the milk. -SH
You: You could change that...-JW
Stranger: I'm busy. -SH
You: With what?-JW
Stranger: ...-SH
Stranger: An experiment. -SH
You: You never told me about a new experiment you were going to do.-JW
Stranger: I've only just begun. -SH
You: What are you studying this time?-JW
Stranger: Whether a certain pairing of chemicals would cause an explosion big enough to decimate a factory. Can't be bothered to text the details. -SH
You: Okay?... When will you be done?-JW
Stranger: Depends. Are you still insisting we go to that party tonight? -SH
You: Not so much the party, but I would like to go out tonight, and I know you haven't eaten a crumb in the past 35 hours so I figured we would head over to Angelo's. -JW
Stranger: ...Then perhaps I can be done before six. I'm not hungry, John. I don't know why you insist upon food while I'm working. -SH
You: Because you can't work if you have already died of malnutrition and starvation?-JW
Stranger: That's highly unlikely. And anyway, I'll eat when I'm done with this case. -SH
You: No you will not Sherlock! You will be at Angelo's at six sharp, or else I will tell Mycroft where you hid his umbrella.-JW
You: And you will eat something while we are there.-JW
Stranger: Irrelevant. And unnecessary. I'll be there, John. You don't have to threaten me. -SH
You: Sometimes I think I do. Because you never seem to want to come, it if is just me.-JW
Stranger: I'll be there. Anyway, this experiment doesn't look too promising. The resulting explosion barely generated enough concussive force to knock over several chairs. -SH
You: I will see you at six.-JW
You: And sorry about the experiment...-JW
Stranger: No matter. I'll clean it up. -SH
Stranger: Where do we keep the fire extinguisher? -SH
You: WHAT!-JW
You: I think you threw it into the hall the other week...-JW
Stranger: Oh. Yes, I see it. -SH
You: Why? What is on fire this time, and I swear if it is one of my jumpers I will ring you neck Sherlock...-JW
Stranger: Oh, you are upset, John. Your grammar is suffering. It's only the table, and a bit of my trouser leg. Trivial. -SH
You: A few missing commas! And one misspelled word! And how in the world is 'a bit of my trouser leg' a trivial matter? - JW
You: Did you get burnt?-JW
Stranger: Only a little. It's trivial. Unimportant. -SH
You: I am coming home right now. Only a little burnt, Sherlock! Knowing you it is probably half your leg with a third degree burn!- JW
Stranger: It doesn't even hurt, John. Not nearly as much as before, anyway. You're making it seem worse than it is. -SH
You: I am bringing some medical supplies from the hospital. I will make sure just how trivial and unimportant your burn is! - JW
Stranger: If you must. -SH
Stranger: Bring home some more phosphorus. We're out. -SH
You: I am on my way...-JW
Stranger: With the phosphorus, I hope? -SH
You: I will get some.-JW
Stranger: There's a dealer down on Cross Street. Illegal, of course, but so much faster than anything I could get elsewhere. -SH
You: Sherlock... I can't believe I am going to some illegal element dealer, while you are at home burning to death!- JW
Stranger: And we'll need a new kitchen table. This one's horribly scorched. -SH
Stranger: Don't make a fuss, John. I'm absolutely fine. -SH
You: No you are not! And we will deal about the table later; you and your damn phosphorus are important right now.-JW
Stranger: Hm. Interesting. -SH
You: What?-JW
Stranger: I told you not to make a fuss. And yet... -SH
You: I can make a fuss all I want Sherlock, I have my freedoms...And by the way that dealer I just met is a real creep, I do not think it is a good idea to interact with these kinds of shady people. I mean really who deals phosphorus, anyway?-JW
Stranger: He does. Because I asked him to. He knows where the abandoned factory is and I can't be bothered to go there myself all the time. Really he's more of a carrier. -SH
Stranger: ...I may have singed your chair a bit, too. Apologies. -SH
You: SHERLOCK!-JW
Stranger: I apologized. As per your instructions, I might add. Why are you still angry? -SH
You: Ugh, the one thing you can't understand...I will be home in a few minutes. Perhaps when you can actually see my face and deduce my emotions you will understand.-JW
Stranger: Emotions are unnecessary. Where are you? -SH
You: Just down the street...How is your leg?-JW
Stranger: Fine. -SH
You: You are lying.-JW
Stranger: I. Am. Fine. -SH
You: No. You. Are. Not. If it is one thing that I can understand is pain, especially when it is in the leg area! So when I say you are not fine, I mean it Sherlock! I am a Doctor, you know.-JW
Stranger: And you haven't even seen it yet, so how you could pass judgment is beyond me. -SH
You: Ugh!-JW
You: *opens the door to the building, and then walks up to their flat* Sherlock! Where are you?
Stranger: In here, John. The kitchen.
You: Okay. *goes to kitchen* I have the medic- What happened in here! *stares at the walls and pretty much everything else*
Stranger: I told you. I was experimenting.
You: It looks like you blew up the entire kitchen! Not just a few chairs... *finally sees Sherlock* Bloody hell, what happened to you? Let me see your leg.
Stranger: It's fine. I didn't think it would work, anyway. Maybe if I used hydrogen instead of potassium chlorite...
You: Leg. Now.
Stranger: *Grumbling, Sherlock yanks up his scorched trouser leg.* Fine. But only if you leave off your nattering.
You: *Examines Sherlock's leg, but keeps having to roll the fabric and it gets irritating* Sherlock take off your trousers. It is hard to work when you trouser legs keep falling down.
Stranger: Here just tear the leg. They're ruined anyway. *Sherlock leans down and begins to rip the fabric.*
You: Thanks. *He lifts Sherlock's leg so it is basically seated on his knees. He begins to clean the wound with different cream treatments, since there is no blood he went straight to the burn problem. He gets the gauze from the first aid kit and begins to wrap Sherlock's leg. When he is finally satisfied that he is done, he pats the gauze down one last time to check to see if it is secure then he looks back to Sherlock.*
Stranger: *Sherlock's face remains carefully composed, not so much as twitching.* Thank you, John.
You: You are welcome. Did you get hurt elsewhere? *John had an expression about him that was on of a truly caring doctor, not so much of an overly doting flatmate.*
Stranger: No.
You: The truth Sherlock. *Now he just sounded like a parent treating to their child*
Stranger: Help me up.
You: *He grabs Sherlock's hands and tenderly helps him up, Sherlock however ended up collapsing as he put his weight on his injured leg. John grabbed him and help him up again and was heavily supporting him until Sherlock was stable enough to stand without swaying* Where to?
Stranger: *Sherlock looks away, embarrassed at his weakness.* I was under the impression you wanted to go out?
You: Not with you in the state you are in! We can always order some Take-in Chinese or would you like me to help you to the living room or something for now?
Stranger: I can walk, John.
You: I would like to see you try. *He scoffed at the remark, but then realized Sherlock would actually try and walk on his own. John gripped his waist tighter to prevent that from happening.* It was a rhetorical statement, I didn't mean it Sherlock.
Stranger: I am more than capable of...oh.
You: You okay? *Concern rippled across his face, as he let Sherlock weight down on him more.*
Stranger: I...fine. It'll pass.
You: I don't like seeing you like this Sherlock... Come on, you need to rest. Let's get you too bed. *John tries to get Sherlock to move, but he seems frozen.* You okay? You really can't walk can you?
Stranger: I'm just disoriented from the blast. It'll pass.
You: You sure? I can, uh, carry you to, uhm, bed, if you really can't walk... *His face flashed crimson at the double meaning behind his words*
Stranger: No. That's unnecessary. I'm fine.
You: Okay, let's walk then...slow. *And so they do, very slowly make the trip to Sherlock's room.*
Stranger: All right, John. You can let go. I'll do this myself or not at all.
You: I am just trying to help Sherlock.
Stranger: I know you mean well, John, but I...just, let me.
You: Why? Why won't you let me help more? *He had a genuinely concerned, a confused and somehow determined look upon his face*
Stranger: Because I-because I really am fine. I just need a minute.
You: Okay... *Completely unconvinced, but still he lets go of Sherlock's waist and shoulder and slowly lets Sherlock test his weight on his own two legs*
Stranger: Hm. There. You see? Just needed a minute.
You: Right... *John is looking at him like a mother would a child, he is so not convinced of Sherlock's health, at the moment*
Stranger: *Determined, Sherlock turns around, narrowly evades John, and staggers back to the living room.*
You: Where are you going? *Following him into the living room, wary of any subtle hints of distress*
Stranger: I'm not tired. Why go to bed?
You: Your leg!
Stranger: Is fine.
You: I do not believe you.
Stranger: I know you don't.
Stranger: *Sherlock drops onto the sofa and snatches up a copy of the evening paper.* But that's really irrelevant.
You: *Watches in him disbelief* Well then...
Stranger: I thought you were hungry?
You: I thought your leg hurt.
Stranger: It doesn't. When did I say it did?
You: ...Never mind... useless to say anything against what the 'Great Sherlock Holmes' has to say about anything...even he own bloody health and wellbeing... *John grumbles to himself as he makes his way slowly out of the living room and into the kitchen*
Stranger: My health is irrelevant, so long as I can work. It's a minor inconvenience.
You: Minor inconvenience, my ass... *more mumbling from John*...What do you want from the Chinese Shop down the street? I am ordering in! *John yells from across the flat*
Stranger: Anything. I'm not hungry.
You: Okay, but you are going to be eating, so what sounds the most theoretically appetizing?
Stranger: I'm sure I don't care.
You: *Walks back into the living room, and stares at Sherlock. He turns in a slow circle, something he does when he is trying to sort out his emotions and when he simply is overloaded, and trying to figure out what to do next. He runs his hands over his face. But he figured out one thing. He is genuinely pissed by Sherlock right now.* Okay. You know what Sherlock... It is taking a lot out of me to actually care about anything that happens to you...and yet you don't even try... whatever...It's not like you actually care... *Johns voice gets smaller and smaller until it is a muffled voice that is barely above a whisper. And with that John leaves the room and heads upstairs to his bedroom. Without another word to Sherlock.*
Stranger: John? -SH
You: ...
Stranger: *Sherlock taps his phone uneasily against the tabletop.*
Stranger: I'm sorry. -SH
You: ... *In his room John is staring at his phone...*
Stranger: I truly am. -SH
You: ... *Hard to believe, is Johns only thought...*
Stranger: I know you don't believe me, John, but I really do apologize for my behavior. It was...uncalled for at best. -SH
You: ...*Harder to not reply back...Keep strong John...Johns thoughts are swirling around his head, it is so hard to concentrate when Sherlock is practically begging for forgiveness...
Stranger: Fine. -SH
You: *A tear is making its way down Johns face...* Why must you be so difficult?-JW *Why do I think so much of this man? Is Johns thought.*
Stranger: Old habit, I suppose. -SH
You: Can that old habit be broken, just for me?-JW
Stranger: Not sure. May as well give it a shot. -SH
You: Thank you, Sherlock...-JW
Stranger: Yes, all right. Enough sentiment. What do you want to order-in? -SH
You: Chinese or Thai, anything with noodles. :) -JW
Stranger: ...A smiley face, John? -SH
You: Yes, a smiley face. It is what happens when you smile in reality, due to a small token of affection given to you by someone you care for, and you wish them to be aware of their effect of them.-JW
Stranger: Very well. Shall I phone the restaurant, then? -SH
You: Yes, thanks.-JW *Some minutes pass as Sherlock orders in. John is still trying to collect himself, but finds solice in the fact that Sherlock and he can never get mad at each other for very long.*
Stranger: All right. It's on its way. -SH
You: *Walks down stairs, wearing his favorite jumper that is used for when he needs a comforting feeling. He walks over to Sherlock and stands in front of him.* Thanks. *Is all John says, then he smiles. And goes to sit in his chair, while to pair wait for their food to arrive.*
Fin
