Warning: This story is essentially about a relationship being brought to breaking point. If this causes triggers in any of you, I would advise that you don't read it.
Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock.
Chapter 1 – Wrong When I Thought I Was Right
"John, what do you think?"
John bent down over the body, studying the bruise pattern around the victim's neck. "Strangulation," he concluded, standing up. Sherlock was wearing The Face again.
"That's what they want you to think." He swept down on the body and whipped out his magnifying glass. "The strangulation is post-mortem; the bruises hide a small puncture mark there," he pointed at a tiny dot which was barely visible. "The bruises are also designed to throw us off the scent, making us look for stranglers when we should be researching poisons; most likely specialist ones, possibly easily traceable to few, or even a single location, hence the need to cover up the real cause of death." He straightened up, looking superior. Yet the look melted off his face when John shot him a thunderous look. "What?" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Why did you do that?" John murmured; although most people had moved away from them, he didn't want to risk being overheard.
"Do what?"
"Humiliate me," John explained.
Sherlock still looked confused. "I needed to show how the bruises-"
"No!" John exclaimed. "You don't do that to your… boyfriend," he whispered, very aware of the fact that they hadn't told anyone of the shift their relationship paradigm yet.
Sherlock winced. "Bit not good?"
John snorted. "A bit."