AN: Another Omegle chat! Again characters do not belong to me! That honour goes to ACD, Moffat, Gatiss and the BBC.

Comment and reviews are greatly appreciated! Oh also, if you wish to finish this or add on you are welcome to! Just send me a message and we can work it out! Okay on to the "story"..

Stranger: The world was spinning, the walls of the alleyway not holding as still as they should. Sherlock blinked hard, noting the throbbing in his rib cage and head. Fuzzy memories began to drift back to him as to what happened. He was.. oh yes. He was chasing someone, but he miscalculated something.. Oh. The person had friends, who ganged up on him. He wasn't able to fight all of them off. They left him here. Sherlock groaned and reached into his pocket, noting how painful the action was, and pulled out his phone, miraculously unbroken. / John, I require you assistance. -SH

You: John hears his phone go off in his pocket. Reaching in he reads the text and replies back. ' Sherlock where are you. Lestrade said you took off before I even got to the crime scene. -JW

Stranger: I'm in an alleyway on Totem Court Road. I'd prefer not to move myself, presently. -SH

You: John reads the text and tells the cabbie the road name. ' I'm 10 minutes away. Did you get hurt Sherlock? Don't move too much if you can help it. -JW

Stranger: Yes. I didn't realize there would be so many. Tell the stupid alleyway to stop moving around so much. -SH

You: Right, I'm almost there. Sit down and keep your head up. Don't fall asleep! You may have a concussion if you got hit in the head. -JW

Stranger: I wouldn't dream of falling asleep, which rather an ironic statement. Do hurry, though. -SH / Sherlock managed to sit up against one of the misbehaving alley walls, tenderly resting his head against it. Pain racked his whole body, but he managed to pin-point the major pains. Head, ribs, some cracked or possibly broken, right shoulder and upper arm, and left leg. "Lovely." Sherlock growled to himself.

You: The cab pulls up by the alleyway and John asks him to stay. Looking around John sees Sherlock leaning back on the wall and nursing his sides. " Sherlock!" John runs over and inspects Sherlock body, gingerly touching his head and sides. " Come on, grab on to my shoulders, I have a cab waiting."

Stranger: "Thank you, John." Sherlock murmured, using his good left arm to grasp onto John's board shoulder's, helping John as much as he could in the process of getting him to stand. "Your timing is improving rapidly."

You: John grabs Sherlock's waist and begins to slowly walk back to the cab. "It's not a problem Sherlock, but maybe next time can you wait 5 minutes for me to get there. I may not be so fast next time" John looks over at Sherlock's face and frowns slightly.

Stranger: "He was getting away, I had to... I had to go after him." he breathed, headache stalling his speech. "I'd rather not go to a hospital, John, they're... tedious and cumbersome."

You: " Then just be more careful huh?" John pauses for a moment when Sherlock stops speaking. "Fine, I'm sure I have everything you need back at the flat. And as far as I can tell nothing is broken, just badly bruised. I'll just have to check when we get home."

Stranger: "Thank you." Sherlock said again, then managed to climb into the cab himself, grunting when his should hit the back of the seat. His ribs protested at the change of position, but he ignored them.

You: John waited until Sherlock was settled in before he told the cabbie the address. Glancing over, John could tell Sherlock was in pain but was trying not to be verbal about it. John turned back to looking out the window and spoke softly, " When we get into the flat, you need to undress out of your dirty clothes so I can check everything to make sure it's okay."

Stranger: "No problem." Sherlock replied. Near nudity wasn't an issue for him.

You: "Right." The cab come to a stop, pulling out the amount needed, he paid the driver and got out.

Stranger: Sherlock made his way slowly out of the cab, leaning as much as he needed on John once he was out of the cab. "Let's not tell Mrs Hudson, she tends... to over worry." he muttered to John, looking at the door wearily, thinking about the stairs beyond.

You: John smiled slightly at Sherlock's words. "We will be as quiet as possible." Unlocking the door, John headed for the stairs. Clearing his throat. "Uh, Sherlock, if you don't... mind I could possibly carry you up the stairs. Might save you the pain."

Stranger: Sherlock weighed his pain and decided John's offer to be the best option. He wouldn't be able to make it up the stairs himself. "Thats... that's very kind, John. Thank you." Sherlock would, of course, do his best to help and weigh as little as possible, but there was no getting around it. When he could, he would find that gang and destroy them for these inconveniences.

You: John wasn't entirely sure Sherlock would take him up on his offer, so when he agreed he was a bit surprised. "Stand still for a moment.." John reached behind Sherlock's knees and picked him up a painlessly as he could.

Stranger: His ribs complained loudly and his shoulder felt as if it was on fire. Sherlock gritted his teeth, but a small whimper escaped him. He swallowed hard.

You: Damn, John cursed to himself. He tried to be as gentle as he could. He began to walked up the steps and moved his arms as little as possible. Upon reaching the top, John nudged the door with his foot. 'Thank god I forgot to close it properly' John thought to himself. Moving to Sherlock's room he put down Sherlock.

Stranger: Sherlock let out a slow sigh, letting himself relax a bit as he sat on his bed. He looked up at John a cocked an eyebrow, luckily an action that was pain-free. "Need me to undress?" he questioned, watching John's reactions.

You: Watching Sherlock slowly sit down, his words began to register in his mind. John's eyes widened and he slightly blushed. Rubbing the back of his head, " I'll.. just go get the supplies and a wet rag for you to clean yourself off... I'll be back... in a moment."

Stranger: Even in his pained state, John's embarrassment gave Sherlock slight amusement, and some other feeling he'd yet to identify. Sherlock nodded and began to unbutton his shirt, manly using his left hand since most movement in his right arm caused pain.

Stranger: *mainly

You: John stepped out of Sherlock's room and slightly closed the door. 'Right, got to calm down. He's injured for Christ's sake.' He walked into the bathroom and pulled out everything he needed. Grabbing a small blue towel, he ran it under warm water and rung it out. Grabbing everything, he headed back to Sherlock's room. Hesitating outside, John softly knocked on the door, "Sherlock?"

Stranger: "I'm undressed." Sherlock replied, wearing his shirt loosely around his shoulders, trousers next to him on the bed, wearing only his boxers. Now he could clearly see the massive bruise forming on his leg, the slight swelling around his rib cage, and blood covering his shoulder. Yes, that gang would pay dearly.

You: John pushed the door open at Sherlock's answer. Letting his eyes roam everywhere, John frowned and knelled down so he could wipe Sherlock's legs and sides. "How many?" He put slight pressure down but hopefully not enough to cause Sherlock more pain.

Stranger: Sherlock inhaled sharply, but found John's touch rather gentle. "Head, shoulder, leg, ribs, feels like three." he breathed out.

You: John pulled his hand back slightly. " Sorry," he murmured. Standing up, John wiped Sherlock's head and finally began to scrub the blood off his shoulder.

Stranger: "It wasn't Sanders, by the way." Sherlock remembered. "Anderson's duller than I thought if he really thinks Sanders did it." he muttered, then looked up at John. "How bad is it?" he asked, referring to his wounds.

You: John just nodded his head. Looking over Sherlock's body once more, John quickly licked his lips, "Not very bad. Obviously some bruising on your legs and sides. Nothing is broken. A slightly cracked rib, which I can wrap up. And the shoulder wounds are superficial, just scratches." Reaching behind Sherlock, John grabbed the wrapping gauze. " You won't be able to move as much as you do for a couple of days"

Stranger: "Brilliant." Sherlock grumbled. "Have to text Lestrade the details then." he shifted slightly, agitated about this.

You: Wrapping him one last time, John finished up and stepped back. "Right, I'll get on that then." He grabbed the first-aide kit and moved towards the door.

Stranger: "John?" Sherlock said suddenly, looking up at his flatmate.

You: Reaching out to grab the door knob, John stopped and turned to face his flatmate. " Yes Sherlock?"

Stranger: "Thank you. Truly." he answered, an odd sensation in his chest.

You: John smiled. "It's no problem Sherlock. Just don't hurt yourself by moving too much. I'll go make some tea."

Stranger: Sherlock nodded, then stood up slowly and moved towards his closet to change into less blood-stained clothes.

You: "No here, I've got it." John reached inside the closet first and grabbed a pair of bottoms and a soft cotton shirt. " Don't want you straining yourself too much." Handing them over John moved out of the room and headed towards the kitchen.

Stranger: Sherlock sighed. "I'm injured, not invalid, John!" he called out, but grateful for the help. He changed as fast as his body was willing to let him, finally shuffling out into the kitchen, cursing his hurt leg.

You: John chuckled to himself. Grabbing the cups out of the cabinet, he put the kettle on to boil. "I partly did that to see what you would do."

Stranger: "I thought conducting experiments was my forte." Sherlock smirked, sitting in one of the table chairs and managing to shift into a comfortable position, head still throbbing slightly.

You: "Guess you are starting to rub off on me". John noticed Sherlock's slight wince. Rummaging in the drawer, he pulled out a small bottle of pain killers. "Here", holding out two small pills John placed them in front of Sherlock and finished making the tea.

Stranger: "Ah, thank you." Sherlock downed the pills dry, then watched John. "Perhaps you'll be making your own deductions at crime scenes." he chuckled, being serious though.

You: Placing the cups onto the table, John looked up at Sherlock's words. " Hah, right. Like I could do that."

Stranger: "Well, you have observed my methods, so if you applied them you could easily make deductions." he replied, picking up his cup and taking a sip.

You: "It's not really my thing", John took a sip avoiding Sherlock's eyes, "To be honest, I could live happy watching you do the deducting and I just help along in any way I can"

Stranger: Sherlock raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, silently sipping his tea, thinking, making his own deductions. "John, I hope you know you help me so much more than you realize." he finally stated.

You: John smiled softly. "Thank you Sherlock." Finishing up his cup,he rinsed it out and put it in the sink. "Right, I'm going to take a shower and maybe watch some crap telly. Care to join me after I get out?"

Stranger: "Obviously." Sherlock replied, finishing up his own cup and standing up to put it in the sink. "Although it makes me weep for humanity every time we turn it on."

You: "Haha doesn't stop you from watching it all the time." John walked to the bathroom and shouted out the door before he closed it, "Just lie on the couch until I get out! Don't move too much!" Shutting the door, he began to take off his clothes and started the water.

Stranger: "You'd think I'd broken every bone in my body..." Sherlock muttered, dumping his mug in the sink and shuffling towards the sofa, sitting down instead of lying down. Then he got a rather devious idea. He waited until John came out of the shower.

You: Stepping under the water, John laughed aloud. He grabbed the first bottle of shampoo he touched and poured some on to his hand. 'Hmm, must be Sherlock's' Shrugging, he quickly scrubbed his hair then body. Rinsing the last of the bubbles off, turning off the water, he stepped out and dried himself with a towel. He quickly put on pants then his pyjama bottoms and slipped on his shirt. Throwing the towel in the basket, he opened the door and headed towards the living room.

Stranger: "Nice shower?" Sherlock asked, still sitting on the sofa, remote lying on the armrest.

You: "Hm, yes it was lovely thank you for asking." John noticed that Sherlock wasn't lying down so he sat down on the sofa as well.

Stranger: Time to put his devious plan into action. Sherlock stretched out a bit, then plopped his head and shoulders in John's lap, legs stretching out on the other end of the sofa. "Here's the remote." he said innocently, raising a hand a waving the remote under John's nose.

You: John stared down at Sherlock's head in his lap. "What..." John cleared his throat, "What... are you doing Sherlock." He licked his lips nervously.

Stranger: Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Lying down, of course. That's what you said to do."

You: " Yeah, right." John nods his head dumbly, " I did say that didn't I?" He shifted slightly.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled. "I'm merely following doctor's orders."

You: John's lips twitched. "Cheeky" John reached over and grabbed the remote. "So, uh, what do you want to watch then?"

Stranger: "I'm in the mood for anything, it's your choice." Sherlock shrugged with his left shoulder, still watching his flatmates rather comical reactions.

You: John hummed in response. Flipping through the channels, he settled for a movie that was being played from earlier that week. John would flicker his eyes between the screen and his friend's face.

Stranger: Sherlock eventually turned his attention to the movie, calling out all the things wrong with the movie. "They don't have palm trees there!" "The costume designing goes against the climate setting." "He's obviously not crying."

You: "Well this is a made for TV movie. They don't have a great as a budget as other films do." John shrugged.

Stranger: "Still, they could have made more effort into it." Sherlock complained, shifting a little on John's lap. "You make a comfortable pillow, by the way."

You: John stilled himself when he felt Sherlock move. "Uh... thank you?"

Stranger: "No, thank you. Few people have such ability." Sherlock joked.

You: "Is this your way of saying I have gained some weight?" John teased. He felt oddly

comfortable with Sherlock laying in his lap.

Stranger: "No, not at all. In fact," Sherlock looked back up at the army doctor, "You've lost a two pounds."

You: "Must be all that running around London with you. Beats going to a gym." John smiled down at Sherlock.

Stranger: Sherlock grinned. "Must be. It suits you."

You: Laughing, "I wouldn't give this up for the world Sherlock." He suddenly felt shy. "You changed my life in so many ways. I will always be grateful of that."

Stranger: "You... you have changed my life as well. For the better." Sherlock replied, brain suddenly spinning with emotion.

You: John looked softly down at Sherlock. "I guess it was a good thing Stamford introduced us then eh?"

Stranger: "Indeed." Sherlock murmured, examining John's face, his eyes, brow, cheeks, lips. He'd never trusted anyone so much in his life as much as he trusted John Watson.

You: John slowly raised his hand and placed it in Sherlock's hair. "You mean so much to me Sherlock, even if you are bloody insufferable sometimes." John smiled lightly.

Stranger: Sherlock felt his heart-rate elevate, but managed to smile at the kind-hearted insult. "You're not ordinary, John. You never were. You're extraordinary, and I fail to see a life without you." Words of emotion were never Sherlock's field, so he hoped he didn't screw up.

You: John's breath stopped in this throat. "Sherlock.." he whispered.

Stranger: Sherlock reached up and gently stroked John's cheek, memorizing his skin texture, his heart pounding in his chest. Such unusual reactions and emotions, he thought. It wasn't... unpleasant, though.

You: John felt his pulse quicken. Sherlock's hand was soft on his face and he leaned into his touch. He was nervous, terribly so. He don't know how to proceed.

Stranger:"John..." Sherlock whispered, realizing John wasn't reacting negatively to his touch. He sat up and turned towards John, replacing his hand on John's cheek, breathing coming in shortened gasps.

You: "Hmm?" John moved farther back onto the couch and turned closer to Sherlock. He leaned his head closer and ran his fingers lightly over his cheeks.

Stranger: Sherlock wasn't sure how to proceed with his words, so he leaned in and brushed his lips against the army doctor's.

You:John followed Sherlock with his eyes when he leaned closer. Sherlock's soft, warm lips touched against his. Reaching up, he grabbed onto his hair and pulled their faces tighter together.

Stranger: Thoroughly pleased with John's response, Sherlock wrapped his good hand around John's strong neck and down to his shoulder, feeling the muscle there beneath the fabric of his shirt, which suddenly seemed in the way.

You: John hummed loudly when Sherlock wrapped his hand on his neck. He opened his mouth open more and grabbed Sherlock as lightly as he could and pulled them both down. Not wanting to stress Sherlock's body even more.

Stranger: Sherlock moaned in approval, then gently bit down on John's lower lip, then figuring to hell with his bad arm and wrapped his right arm around John's back, bringing him closer and ignoring the protest in his shoulder.

You: John shivered when he heard Sherlock moan into his mouth. Lightly growling, John nipped back and moved his mouth for air. He shifted over slightly and began to mark Sherlock on his neck.

Stranger: Sherlock trembled in delight, amazed by how good this felt. He'd never done this kind of thing before. His hand wound up into John's hair, pulling at his hair slightly. Then John's scent hit him. "You... used my shampoo?" he panted, laughing a bit.

You: John paused,his mouth open on Sherlock's neck. "What... OH, yeah I did, is that okay with you. It was the first bottle I grabbed..."

Stranger: "No, it's... fine." Sherlock chuckled, then slipped his hand under John' shirt and slowly moved it up and down his spine, fingertips lightly massaging his pressure points.

You: "Okay, good I thi.." John suddenly forgot what he was going to say. Sherlock's hands felt wonderful on his back. He tilted his head up and captured Sherlock's lips with his own.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled against John's lips and flicked his tongue against John's lips, continuing slowly moving his fingers up and down John's spine, his other hand now cupping the side of John's face.

You: The heat between them suddenly became too much for John. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up. "Sherlock, hold on." John pulled back slightly.

Stranger: Sherlock groaned, hating the distance between them. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked despite himself. Better to learn than not know at all.

You: "No, no, god no. There is just this bloody shirt in the way." He sat up more and pulled it off. Smiling at Sherlock, he throw it to the side. "There,much better."

Stranger: Sherlock smiled, eyes hungrily gazing at John's exposed torso. He placed a hand over the place where John's heart was, feeling the rapid heart beat beneath his palm, fingertips inches from the bullet scar. It frightened Sherlock a bit, to see that scar, but if it wasn't for that bullet, John might have never met Sherlock in the first place.

You: John watched Sherlock's eyes rake over his body. He closed his eyes and shivered when he felt the warm heat from Sherlock's hand hover over his scar. "It's disgusting, I know. You don't have to touch it or anything..."

Stranger: "It's not. It's... meaningful." he responded, looking John in the eye. "Nothing about you is disgusting."

You: John looked into Sherlock's eyes. "You are the first person I have let even look at it..." John cleared his throat, "Thank you Sherlock.." John leaned forward and planted a light kiss on his lips.

Stranger: Sherlock grasped John's hair again and deepened the kiss, hating any measure of distance between them, hand still placed over John's heart.

You: Pulling them back down, John lightly brushed his tongue on Sherlock's bottom lip.

Stranger: A moan escaped him and he opened his mouth wider, trembling in desire.

You: Taking it as an invitation, John slipped his tongue into Sherlock's mouth.

Stranger: It was an extraordinary feelings, and Sherlock let his own tongue explore John's mouth, feeling a bit like an explorer claiming uncharted territory. His hand dipper lower down John's torso, fingertips grazing over his hipbones.

You: John moaning softly when he felt Sherlock's tongue enter his mouth. He lifted his hips slightly against Sherlock and ran his hands along his back. "Sherlock.." John murmured into his mouth.

Stranger: "Hmm?" Sherlock replied, lost in the feel of John's hands on his back, breathing harder.

You: "Should we, uh... slow down... I.. don't want to rush into anything..." John gripped the top of Sherlock's shoulders but continued to track kisses along his neck.

Stranger: "No... don't want to... rush, either." Sherlock breathed, tipping his head back to expose more of his neck.

You: "Ok..ay." John nipped at Sherlock's skin and began to suck on one spot, running his tongue over it.

Stranger: Sherlock groaned in delight, chest heaving as he wound his fingers into John's hair.

You: Pulling back, John looked at the round red mark. He smirked, "That's definitely going to last at least the rest of the week."

Stranger: "People will definitely talk." he joked, looking into John's fascinating blue eyes.

You: John smiled at Sherlock's little rub at him. "That's my line." John reached his hand up and brush Sherlock's hair from out of this face. Leaning forwards until their foreheads touched. "Sherlock Holmes, you mean so much to me. I don't know where I would be with out you." He gave his a quick and soft kiss on his cheek.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled and brushed his lips against John's for a moment before pulling back. He wasn't good at this part, the words, and he was lucky to get this far. "John Watson, I..." the words suddenly got stuck in his throat as he realized just how true they were.

You: John looked at Sherlock's face when he heard 'John Watson, I' before Sherlock stopped his sentence. "Sherlock, you don't have to say anything if you're not ready." John felt slightly off put. "I, uh, I want to tell you something.."

Stranger: Sherlock swallowed hard, feeling like an idiot for not admitting his full feelings for the army doctor. "What is it?" he asked, knowing that the next time he could, he would tell him.

You: "Well... obviously I feel something for you then more then just flatmates..." John didn't know how to continue. He felt like Sherlock liked him, but he didn't want to scare him away if he came off too strong. He wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Stranger: "I'd be concerned for our situation if you didn't." Sherlock chuckled, then placed a hand against John's cheek, rubbing his thumb across his cheekbone. "If you don't mind can I say something first?"

You: John chuckled "Umm, yeah. Go ahead."

Stranger: Sherlock took a deep breath first, then looked in John's eyes, sure of his feelings. "I.. I have increased levels of oxytocin and vasopressin for you." That didn't come out the way Sherlock planned.

You: John blinked slowly at Sherlock. "Um, I'm sorry. What?"

Stranger: "They're, er, key chemicals in the emotion of, um... love." Sherlock chest compressed in anxiety.

You: "Are... are you trying to say... that you love me?" John asked weakly.

Stranger: Sherlock could only nod, words escaping him again.

You: "Oh, Sherlock..." John bit his lip and sucked in a shaky breath.

Stranger: His brain went into overdrive. Too fast. Too soon. Negative response. Bad. Sherlock sat up and back away a bit, wishing he could change his words, or not speak at all. He might have just ruined everything, as usual.

You: John felt Sherlock tense and pull back. "Sherlock, what are you doing." He reached a hand out and grabbed his arm lightly.

Stranger: "I... I apologize, that was too soon." Sherlock gulped, avoiding John's eyes.

You: John took in Sherlock's response. 'Oh... oh..' John's eyes widened when he finally understood Sherlock's reactions. "No, Sherlock." He grabbed Sherlock's face and turned it to look straight at him. "You just startled me, that's all." John slowly inched forward and stopped an inch away from Sherlock's lips. Looking him dead in the eyes. "Sherlock Holmes." Half an inch closer. "I love you too." He closed the distance between them and passionately kissed Sherlock.

Stranger: Sherlock's heart shed it's chains of regret and embarrassment and took off in a rapid beat as he wound his arms back around John, welding himself to John. He loved John. John loved him. So complex, so simple.

You: John smiled into the kiss. "See, no need to get worked up love." John moved his head into the crook of Sherlock's neck and nuzzled there.'Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective. Is in love with me' John thought happily to himself and he planted a soft kiss to his neck.

Stranger: Sherlock chuckled in relief. "And Captain John Hamish Watson M.D., brave, loyal, and true, is in love with me." he whispered in John's ear. It brought Sherlock only pure joy to know this as he moved back a bit and planted a kiss on John's jaw.

You: John sighed contently and looked over Sherlock's shoulder. Yawning, he tried to hide it by pressing into his shoulder.

Stranger: "Tired?" Sherlock asked, leaning back and observing John. Of course, it was past John's usual bedtime, which was routine for him.

You: "Hmm?... Yeah, but a little bit, but I like sitting here with you. I don't want this to end." John mumbled.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled softly and lifted John's chin up with his finger. "We have tomorrow, the day after that, and all those days after that. Tonight is merely a beginning." he explained. "I'd rather you didn't pass out from exhaustion tomorrow, anyway."

You: "And what shall we be doing tomorrow..?" John asked through closed eyes. "Can... can we go to bed in your room, it's much closer." he shyly asked.

Stranger: "Finishing the case, of course. I refuse to let my trivial injuries stop us." Sherlock said, "And of course." he murmured, placing a kiss on John's forehead, then standing slowly, wincing slightly as his body protested. He'd feel it a lot more tomorrow. He took John's hand and helped him off the sofa.

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