"Sherlock why is there blood in the sink?"
" John, i think you know why" he said sadly trying to get to the door but John grabbed his sleeve, Sherlock stopped.
John rolled up the blood stained sleeve and wasn't shocked by what he saw but it still saddened him.
A row of six or seven long cuts across his wrist that had only been made a few minutes earlier, but what made him most upset were the older scars and cuts that littered Sherlock's pale arm.
Sherlock turned to John and saw that he was crying, he had been reduced to a shaking mess. "John, why are you upset, what's wrong?" he couldn't understand it, why had the site of a few cuts on his arms hurt John so much.
"why did...you do this...to yourself?" he said between sobs.
Sherlock casually replied "boredom".
"Don't lie to me" he snapped.
"John please, don't make me tell you, I don't want you to see how weak i am" he said in a desperate panic.
"Sherlock i will walk out of here and never come back if you don't tell me why you would hurt yourself".
Sherlock stayed silent, and John turned to walk out the door.
Sherlock grabbed his arm so that they were facing each other.
"Because..." he started crying " because i couldn't cope...my dad beat me...i just can't...i...i" he collapsed into a crying heap on the floor.
John knelt beside him "Sherlock...please promise me you will never do this again"
Sherlock looked up "John, i don't know if i cant stop"
"I'll be here, just promise me" he said he didn't want to leave Sherlock and if helping him get over the cutting was what it would take then so be it.
Sherlock nodded and John hugged him "John?" he mumbled into John's shirt " i love you, please don't give up on me"
He sounded so scared and desperate, "Sherlock, i could never leave you"
They lay on the floor clutching each other until Mycroft walked in, john's head shot up at the sound of footsteps.
They looked at each other for a moment before Mycroft said "thank you for saving my brother".
"My pleasure" he said before returning to the embrace of his own personal genius.