'You don't have to do this,' Sherlock murmured as they got out of the cab.
'Don't I?' John snapped, fiddling with his tie, 'I'm all she's got.'
Sherlock stepped in front of him, gripping John's shoulders as he searched his face. Apparently satisfied with what he saw there he ran a thumb swiftly over John' s cheek, then fixed the knot of his tie.
'I'll be right beside you,' he said softly, adding, as John went to speak, 'and I promise not to speak.'
John's mouth performed a creditable impression of a smile and he took a deep breath.
'Thank you,' he said, swallowing hard and taking Sherlock's hand.
They walked into court together.
The hearing was brief, not that John noticed; still too shocked that it had come to this. He couldn't meet Clara's eyes, blank in her still swollen face as she took the stand, much less look at the dock. At Harry.
In fact the only thing keeping him from fleeing was the comforting warmth of Sherlock, steadfast at his shoulder.
Who was now poking him.
He blinked.
Oh.
Everyone was looking at him.
'Dr Watson, do you agree?' the Judge repeated. John looked to Sherlock, suddenly unsure.
Sherlock inclined his head a fraction, squeezing John's hand.
John straightened, 'Yes.'
She was his sister. He'd always post bail.
Kizzia: Written after a conversation with Bradspyjamas about Harry, Clara and Alcoholism. And before anyone yells at me re TiTB, please go and read my profile page.