Hello there
This is my first time ever writing an fanfic if this gose well I'll add onto this one.
I do not own the rights to any of the characters except for Maddie she is my own character.
Now I am rilly dyslexic so mind the spelling I'm more into directing the writing so if the story is more detailed then you like sorry/
Hope you can understand it thx.
Sherlock ripped through the door of 221B now with the B almost falling off, being held on by one screw the rest of the screws flew off when Sherlock forced the door open and slammed it behind him in a attempt to keep John occupied with unlocking the door. Sherlock's fingers trembled too much to bother to put the lock back on so he completely abandoned the idea.Sherlock turned so violently towards the stares, that the sweat and blood occupying his dark curls flew in every direction and splattered the walls. He stumbled up three steps and tripped on the forth his cheek smacking the corner of a step causing a cut under his eye. He pushed himself up onto his arms, the veins in his neck popping out and face turning every shade of red. His body seemed to weigh 10 times more then usual and his very skinny arms made it no easer to get up. Finally with one loud grunt he stumbled onto his feet every step he took one faster then the next made the pain so much more excruciating. He reach the top the stairs in witch the door to his flat was open he grabbed the sides of the door and dug his nails onto the wood, waiting as if he was recharging his energy. Then a sudden wave of pain came over him sending his body crashing to the floor and smacking his head once more, this time knocking him unconscious.
Sherlock woke to the sound of a cab pulling up. John! his mind told himself. "Fuck!" Sherlock said to himself as if signaling for his body to start working on getting himself to the bathroom, the only door in the flat with a lock on it. He pushed himself up onto his elbows spitting out blood and watching for a minute as sweat and blood dripped from his hair, leaving a puddle of it from where his head lay moments ago. A scrape on the door sent a signal to Sherlock's head. John must be trying to fix the B hanging by one screw ,He's too close. Sherlock hoisted himself on to his hands trying to stand but his scraped and bruised up legs slid out from underneath him, with a flop Sherlock's body hit the ground this time a little more graceful. He had no other choice but to drag himself to the bathroom. He pulled his tired body across the floor leaving a trail of blood behind him. All his upper body muscles where being used to make it to the bathroom every time his abs tightened up he could feel the two bullet wounds release a spray of blood, as he got to the doorway of the bathroom John pushed open the door.
"Sherlock I'm ba-" the words where cut off by a faint gasp from John.
he had seen the blood splatter Sherlock's hair left behind on the walls. Sherlock pulled himself up with a small whimper using the door frame for support but as soon as he herd John's frantic footsteps, he threw himself to the floor of the bathroom and kicked the door close with a loud bang.
"Sherlock?" John yelled horrified at the crime scene that was waiting at the door for him.
A puddle of blood lay in front of the door as if laughing at John that he was gone for to long. He followed the tracks of blood left by Sherlock's limp lower body being dragged by the other half to the bathroom. John banged on the door scaring Sherlock into a loud gasp.
"Sherlock please answer me, don't keep me out" John pleaded.
Sherlock let out a faint stumble of words just loud enough to hear from the other side of the door "fuck off"
John sighed a laugh he obviously feels well enough to insult me so not dead, yet. Sherlock on the other side of the door toppled over onto his hands and knees throwing up what ever was left from the last time he ate witch was 4 days ago. he collapsed to the side of the puddle laying on his back, he started to cry breathing out ever whimper of pain and relief he had. John was here, but I'm hurting so bad he can't see me.
A warm voice came from the other side of the door "Sherlock I'm coming in."
John pushed open the door, Sherlock's eyes widened he forgot to lock the fucking door.
"Shit" Sherlock sighed resting his head back onto the ground and closing his eyes.
"O my go-"John was cut off when his eyes drifted to a blood soaked Sherlock laying on a very blood and vomit soaked ground. "what's happened? How? who?" all thes questions that will not be answered at the moment. John fell to his knees beside the nearly dead detective. Every vain in John's body pumped taking action as if instinct. John ripped off Sherlock's coat and scarf and pulled of Sherlock's blazer not caring where the cloths ended up as long as they where out of the way. The John stopped his eyes widened, tears threatening them. Sherlock noticed that John had stopped tending to him and he used all his energy to look up at the earth shooken doctor.
"John, Your alright." Sherlock whispered with what was left of him meeting John's eyes.
"Not so much you." John said in an attempt to calm himself. Sherlock's he'd fell back into place on the ground as if signaling for John to carry on. John unbuttoned Sherlock's shirt carefully trying not to cause anymore pain then what he was already in. John pulled off the very blood soaked dress shirt now staining his hands with the blood of his best friend.
"Jesus" John's voice shook at the sight of the holes in the side of his friend.
John opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a first aid kit. John opened it and pulled out some cloth and a bottle of disinfectant. This kit had a lot in it but not enough to Care for two bullet wounds and what ever else was wrong with Sherlock but John did his best.
John took the rag and started to clean up the blood that occupied Sherlock's chest. Sherlock quivered under the the touch of the rag as it wiped across his chest. Sherlock started breathing hard and frantic after two minutes of John tending to his wounds. Then he started to cry once more but only just wheezing and whimpering. Seeing Sherlock in so much pain sent tears to John's eyes.
"Sherlock, I know your going to hate me for this."John said to the man on the ground wile holding up the disinfectant bottle. "this is going to bern." John said opening the cap. Sherlock let out a loud moan in protest then layed his head back down, john counted to three then pored the bottle out on one of the two holes in Sherlock's side.
"Fuck!" Sherlock yelled at the top of his lungs launching one of his hands towards John's wrist that was holding the bottle. The other grabbing John's unoccupied hand and holding so tight he was nearly crushing John's bones.
Sherlock pleaded over and over "Please don't do it again, please don't" there was so much panic in Sherlock that it put him out of breath and tears fell from him face.
Sorrow filled John's face and he said " I'm so sorry but it needs to happen."
Sherlock nodded set his head back released John's occupied hand but still held tight to John's other had. John spent no time counting down this time before he pored out the bottle. Sherlock held his breath clenched his muscles and try his hardest not to knock the shit out of John. As soon as John stopped poring Sherlock reached for John's torso and buried his face deep into John's chest breathing through the pain. John rapped his arms around Sherlock and held him tight. When Sherlock returned to his place back on the ground John patch him up. Then John leaned in close to Sherlock's head examining where the blood was coming from, and took a needle from the first-aid kit and pulled it through Sherlock's scalp sowing him up.
"John?" Sherlock said.
"Yes Sherlock?"
"I tried my hardest to hide from you before you came home." Sherlock said through whimpers
"I know, but you need me to help you. Your such a hard headed bastard." John's mouth was so close to Sherlock's forehead that Sherlock could feel John's lips graze across it as he talked. Sherlock found so much comfort in it that it slowed his hart to a steady beat.
Sherlock hummed in agreement also in regret for making john so scared.
As soon as John finished patching up Sherlock's head John said "You need to take a shower." Sherlock was too tired to protest so he tried picking him self up, but failed. John caught Sherlock before he hit the ground and sat his flat mate onto the toilet lid and told him "I'm going to have to help you." Sherlock nodded in consent for John to undress him and John started with the task. his cheeks flush pink as if embarrassed for Sherlock. As John pulled off Sherlock's pants he saw the mans beaten up legs. How could someone manage this he thought but remember Sherlock had to drag him self up two flights of stairs and through the flat so John pushed it off. He helped Sherlock into the shower and rinsed the man off, blood swirled the drain John finished and leaned Sherlock against the tile so John could run and grab the detectives robe. John went and came back with in seconds with the robe. He slipped it round Sherlock and loosely tied it around his waist. John pulled Sherlock into Sherlock's room and set him down in his bed and pulled up a chair. John sat down with a book and watched over Sherlock before drifting to his book.
"John."
"Yes Sherlock?"
"What would I do without you?"
"You Would still be on the floor"John said with a smirk and returned to his book. Sherlock stared at John before drifting into sleep.
I have a second chapter prepared so tell me if I should release it.