Sorry if it's not very well written, I'm not good at writing. I just have a lot of feelings about this couple
"SHERLOCK" Joan called. No response. Thank God, she thought as she placed her bag down and removed her high heeled boots. Seeing him is the last thing I need right now. Joan made sure to keep her face down as she ascended the stairs to her room, just in case he popped out of somewhere like he often did. She stepped into her room and locked the door. She touched her cool hand to the fresh bruise around her right eye and began to sob quietly.
Sherlock had been on the roof, tending to the bees when he heard his name called. Ah, it appears Watson is finally home , perhaps she can shed some light on the new case, he thought. After tidying up from his work with the bees he began the descent into the Brownstone. "Watson! I have a quiet intriguing case. I was just-" he tried to fling the door to her bedroom open as he normally would but realized it was locked. This was extremely unusual. Watson almost always left her door unlocked, even when she was sleeping or changing.
He knocked twice. "Watson, are you alright?"
"I'm fine Sherlock, just please leave me alone" she called back but with a slight shakiness to her voice from crying.
"Watson you are blatantly lying to me. As you are aware I am extremely proficient at lock picking, so you can either open up or I'll open up for you. Your choice"
Joan walked over to her door and unlocked it for Sherlock. He pushed it open and felt his blood go cold at what he saw.
His beautiful best friend Joan had red, puffy eyes from crying and a large purple bruise around her right eye.
"Watson, what hap-"
"It doesn't matter" said Joan, with her eyes dropping to the floor.
This was very concerning to Sherlock. Usually Joan was strong, independent, and didn't take anyone's shit. But here she was, delicate and sad.
"Joan, of course it matters." He said quietly.
Joan looked up. He used her first name. He never did that. She saw the deep concern in his eyes and felt her eyes well up with tears. He took her slender hand in his and rubbed his thumb against the back of it.
"Tell me what happened" he said quietly.
"Well, you know how I've been seeing Mike for a while," she began. Sherlock nodded. He had never particularly liked Mike but he made Joan happy, so he tolerated him.
"Well I felt like the romance had gone out of our relationship, so I went to his apartment to break it off. He didn't like that so..h-he…"she paused to collect her thoughts "he hit me."
With this admission, Joan began to cry again. Silent tears rolled down her face and fell onto Sherlock's hand. He went to wipe away her tears but she began to speak again.
"I just feel like this is all my fault. I'm so bad at relationships. Mike was so nice to me and I didn't appreciate him. I deserve-"
"No" said Sherlock. Joan lifted her head to meet his eyes. "You deserve the best. You're amazing. When your time was supposed to be over with me, I felt absolutely devastated. I honestly believe I would've gone back to drugs and ended up overdosing in some alley. But you stayed. Not because you had to but because you wanted to. And that was the day I -" Sherlock stopped himself.
I can't do this now, she has been to hell and back, he thought.
"Sherlock, I know. And I feel the same." She smiled at him. Sherlock could see that she meant it with all her heart. He leaned over to her and kissed her. Joan had never experienced a kiss like that before. Soft yet powerful, and conveying all the things they had not said. She breathed as their lips broke away momentarily to suck up more oxygen before they met again, Joan melted against his warmth, and kissed him back.