Hey guys! So this is my first ever fic, I think it's alright but if you have any ideas for me please don't hesitate to leave a comment. This is just going to be a short fic that will eventually lead to some Johnlock, but nothing too serious will happen, I'm not going to write anything smutty in this one.
Chapter 1 -
Sherlock winced as he heard the word. It sliced through his heart like a knife, but he would not let anyone know that it hurt him. Usually he would respond with something quick witted, but today he just didn't have the energy to waste.
'Hey freak, I'm talking to you' Anderson spat at Sherlock. That word, again. Sherlock's chest sank, his jaw clenched. He did so much for these idiots; the least they could do is treat him with a bit of respect. He was not a freak or a psychopath. It wasn't his fault that they were all stupid and threatened by his intelligence. He sighed and looked at John beside him. He noticed John's stance, fists clenched at his sides, his eyes closed and head turned away from Anderson. He was clearly fuming.
'Don't call him that, ever again, I am sick to death of you treating him like shit!' John growled.
'John, calm down.' Sherlock said reassuringly, he didn't care if Anderson upset him, but he didn't want John to be upset.
'No Sherlock! You're an asshole Anderson!' John snapped.
Anderson stepped back, raising his hands defensively.
'You only believe he's not a freak because the prick is shagging you. He'll get what he wants out of you John, and then he'll leave y-'Anderson retorted, before receiving a cheek full of John's fist. He fell to the floor, clutching his face. Lestrade rose from his desk, his chair squeaking as it scraped the floor. John was furious, he was used to the gay remarks and it didn't bother him too much, they were mostly little jokes by Mrs Hudson or Mycroft and he'd usually just swiftly brush them off and forget about it, but this time it was used so derogatorily. As if it would be a terrible thing if he and Sherlock were an intimate couple. Not that they were, at least from John's point of view. He was heterosexual, though he had to reassure himself of that far too often.
'Okay that's enough, Anderson get out of here.' Lestrade said angrily, pointing towards the door. Anderson looked at Lestrade, shocked and then glared at John he got up from the floor and left the room. John glared right back, then shook his head and smiled up at Sherlock. Sherlock looked down at his blogger, who had once again, defended him. He was still shocked that John had actually hit Anderson. He didn't think he was worth that much effort, but he still felt humbled that John cared so much.
'Don't pay mind to him Sherlock, he's an idiot.' John said, and then returned his attention to Lestrade. 'You were saying?'
Lestrade sighed. 'Look John, Sherlock, I know it's not fair for them to call you that, you do a hell of a lot for us, but John I can't have you beating up my squad every time they tease Sherlock. I've talked to Anderson about it but I'll try again, maybe this time he'll listen, now that he's gotten a cheek-full.'
John sighed, Sherlock looked at his feet for a moment before straightening himself up.
'Give me all the available information.' Sherlock said to Lestrade.
John and Sherlock left New Scotland Yard a short while later, ignoring the vicious glares from Anderson and his buddies. John got them a cab and they headed back to Baker Street in silence. John knew Sherlock was upset, it wasn't like him to be so quiet after receiving a case. He was unsure whether to try to comfort Sherlock, so he sat, looking out the window, watching the streets pass them by. A few moments passed when John felt warmth cover his hand and looked down. Sherlock had placed his hand on John's, the one he'd used to biff Anderson. John was shocked by the sudden act of affection from Sherlock, these moments were so rare with him, but they reminded John that Sherlock was worth the effort and he really did care for John, as much as John did for Sherlock. Sherlock could sometimes make john feel like a piece of furniture and treat him like his butler, and john often forgot that he was human and did have emotions. He just wasn't good at expressing them. John felt like his job was to teach Sherlock how to be human, but of course he would never tell Sherlock that. He looked up at Sherlock, who was looking out the window on his side of the cab.
'Does it hurt?' Sherlock mumbled.
'No Sherlock its fine, I'm fine. I'm happy to have a sore hand if it means shutting Anderson up, the git.'
Sherlock looked and him and John chuckled, but stopped when he saw Sherlock's expression. He looked so serious, as always, but there was something else that John couldn't quite figure out. He hoped that it was some form of appreciation, but he could never be certain with Sherlock when it came to his emotions.
'Really Sherlock, it's okay.' He smiled.
'Thank you John.' Sherlock said simply, as the cab pulled up at Baker Street. Sherlock moved his hand quickly from John's as the cabbie turned his head to ask for his payment. Sherlock paid him and the pair headed inside their flat. Sherlock flopped down on the couch, pursing his hands to his lips. He heard john exchanging pleasantries with Mrs Hudson before heading up the stairs. John went straight for the kitchen, he needed tea. He always had tea when they came home.
'Tea, Sherlock?' John asked.
'No. Not now John.' Sherlock said.
John continued to make his tea and shuffle about the flat, all the while Sherlock watched him from the corner of his eye. A flood of emotions were over-clouding Sherlock's mind, and he was finding it extremely difficult to interpret them, which he hated. John knelt down in front of Sherlock.
'Sherlock are you sure you're okay?' John asked him, a worried tone to his voice.
Sherlock's heart fluttered at the sudden close contact. Confused, he replied. 'Yes John I am fine.' He paused. 'I'm used to being called a freak.'
'That doesn't make it okay Sherlock. I know it hurts you, it would hurt anybody.'
Sherlock turned his head to look at the doctor. He looked concerned. Sherlock's heart warmed. He felt fluttery again, but fought with himself to make it go away. He didn't understand the feeling and he didn't like it. It was clouding his judgement. John's brow furrowed as he waited for an answer, but for once Sherlock didn't have answer for him. He should be going over the case notes and evidence, not lying here wondering why he felt all fluttery and why John was so bloody worried about him. He sat up abruptly, got off the couch and strode to his room, leaving John still squatting before the couch.
'I need to start on this case. Thank you for your concern John but I assure you I am fine. I will let you know if your assistance is needed.' He closed the door without waiting for an answer.
John sighed and picked himself up off the floor. He really wanted to help Sherlock, but it was so hard for him to do that without Sherlock letting him in on how he was feeling.
Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! I am happy to accept constructive criticism as this is my first fic! ^.^
