AN: Alright. So I'll admit it. The main reason I'm writing these little stories like this? I'm bored out of my mind. And I'm still suffering from my little feels high spell yesterday. So...yeah.

Enjoy.

Something was off with Sherlock. John noticed that on the way to another crime scene. But he said nothing about it. He figured that if he needed to know something, he would be told. He wasn't going to pry for information if it wasn't needed to be given.

The quick work that Sherlock was doing as soon as they arrived on the crime scene and had been briefed on what the Yard had found as soon as arriving still managed to surprise John. He stood off to the side with Lestrade, staying out of the detective's way as he flitted about, taking in every possible detail, and perhaps a few more.

He was quick about explaining to Lestrade what had happened - a normal, nearly everyday type homocide with the person who'd acctually killed the man laying face down on the ground of a sidewalk in front of the home was someone close to him.

As soon as he'd done that, he still wasn't allowed to leave, as Lestrade wanted to speak with him.

As such, two minutes later, the three men found themselves sitting on the sidewalk a ways down.

Lestrade kept giving Sherlock looks, because the detective refused to bring his eyes up from studying the ground to meet his gaze. "Mycroft called me, you know."he remarked. "How are you holding up?"

John glanced over curiously.

Sherlock raised his eyes to meet Lestrade's worried gaze before he shook his head. "For some odd reason, I get the feeling that you assume this is bothering me."he said, frowning. "It isn't."

Lestrade gave him a knowing look. "If you say so."

Sherlock nodded, looking straight ahead in front of him.

John didn't ask. He knew anything that had Sherlock so distractable was nothing good. He'd just figure it out later. He didn't want to make this situation worse. Still, he spoke up. "Hey, Sherlock?"he said, making the detective look over at him. "You realize that we are here if you need to talk, right?"

Sherlock gave a humourless laugh and nodded. "Yes, John, I'm well aware."he mumbled, pulling his phone and glancing at the message there when it beeped, attracting his attention.

Whatever the message said, it seemed to be Sherlock's breaking point, because the detective got up and disappeared into the shadows a good ways away from the two.

Lestrade shook his head. "I'm calling Mycroft, get him out here to talk to him. You go make sure he's alright,"he told John, getting up and walking back towards the crime scene.

John sat there in confusion for a moment before he got up and started after Sherlock. As soon as he found the detective that he'd become so close to hunched over against a wall, he knew something was definitely wrong. And that he needed to watch his step so he wouldn't make it worse. As such, he moved over to where Sherlock was and spoke softly.

It wasn't too long after that that Lestrade showed up, Mycroft on his heels.

Mycroft ignored John and Lestrade completely after he saw his brother, who's shoulders were shaking in the attempt to hold back his cries. John moved away from the detective and let his brother take over.

Mycroft left his umbrella leaning against one of the walls of the shadowed alleyway and took his brother into a hug. It was odd for Lestrade and John, seeing the brothers being so...human. They never acted like this.

But even so, as soon as Mycroft had a grip on his brother, the tears started falling relentlessly from the younger's eyes.

John politely looked away. He knew more than anything that people didn't like to be watched when they were crying or upset.

Mycroft kept a steady stream of nothings going, a trick that Lestrade knew came from their mother from their childhood years.

Once Sherlock had pulled himself back together, Mycroft released him and gave him a careful once over before he spoke. "Let's get John and you home, Sherlock."he said. "You've had enough for tonight. You need some rest."

"No."Sherlock countered, voice slightly unsteady, but still hard.

Mycroft gave him this look. "I will use an old remedy if you are so against getting rest on your own, and you know just as well as I do, if not better, that you'll be down for the next week with how you are if I do."

That was all it took to make Sherlock agree of his own will.

Lestrade bid the three a farewell, and told them to get in touch if they needed something.

It was only on the ride back to Baker Street that John got an explanation. Something had happened with the Holmes' mother. John understood that feeling.

Once they'd pulled up and had Sherlock settled into bed for a change, Mycroft looked at John. "Keep an eye on him for me."he said. "He needs someone around that he can trust. Give me a call if you need any help with him."

John nodded and the elder of the Homes brothers left.

As soon as he had, John collapsed into his chair and thought the night over. It had definitely turned out much different than he had expected. When he'd left the flat with Sherlock to go to the crime scene, he had definitely never expected to see Sherlock break like he had.

John was up and down, keeping an eye on Sherlock, who stayed curled up in bed for a bit after he woke up. John knew it probably all felt like a dream to him.

As such, he decided that he would try to keep Sherlock as content as possible.

Around eight, John stuck his head in and spoke. "Do you want a cuppa?"he asked.

Sherlock raised his eyes to look at John. "No."

The shortness of it made John frown and enter the room, closing the door behind him. He moved to sit on the edge of Sherlock's bed beside the detective, who sat up when the weight on the side of the bed was added.

"What?"

John gave him a look. "I'm worried about you,"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Why? What would possess you to be concerned about me?"

John huffed. "Because."he commented. "Because I care about you and your well being, and because I saw you break last night, Sherlock. You're my flat mate and best friend, I don't want to see you hurt or upset without trying to help you,"

Sherlock stared at him in surprise and looked away from the doctor. "You don't need to be worried about me. I'm fine."

"Of course you are,"John mumbled. "But I'm still worried about you."

Sherlock didn't argue back this time. He'd said all he needed to.

John sighed and got up. "I'll be in the living room if you need me. Just give me a yell, alright?"he said.

Sherlock nodded, so John turned towards the door to leave.

"John."

John looked over at him curiously.

"Thank you."Sherlock said softly.

John gave him a soft smile. "Anytime,"he promised before he left the room.

It was a bit later that Sherlock came out of his room and sat down across from John, making him look up curiously. "Hey."

Sherlock nodded in greeting.

"What brings you out?"John asked.

"Boring,"he scoffed. "Don't make small talk, you're terrible at it,"

John gave an amused smile. So he had returned to his normal, charming self, he thought sarcastically. But it was still a nice change from how it had been.

John sent a text to Mycroft once Sherlock got up to fetch him some tea, letting the elder of the brothers know that Sherlock was back around to normal and getting the response of 'Keep an eye on him, still'.

And so, he did.

So, yeah. I started this...then stopped for a family movie thing. Rise of the Guardians. It was really good, actually.