Hello! I've been listening to the Script alot lately and I wanted to do a fic based on a song from their newest album, which i really, really love, but then i decided that the whole album fits so well with Sherlock and John, so I decided to do all of it! I dont know how it'll turn out, but i hope well!
I dont own Sherlock and John, but I love them very very much.
All credit goes to Sir Arthur, and Moffat and Gatiss for the BBC Series.
One: You Won't Feel A Thing.
There is an unspoken understanding between John and Sherlock that whatever the other does, whatever trouble they get in or whatever life throws at them, the other will always be there for them. They will be there to pick up the pieces, mend broken bones or smooth bandages over cuts. They will be there to get help, to provide help, to offer support and an unquestioning shoulder to lean on. They will be there to breathe life back into the other should things get bad and they will be there to carry each other from the debris of a collapsing world.
Most of all though, there is the understanding that they will be there to carry whatever burdens the other has. They will willingly trade scars, give life, soothe cuts and bruises and take on pain. They will stand in the way of threats to each other's safety, because they look for safety in each other.
John knows all about Sherlock's past. He knows that he has fallen, physically and metaphorically, more times than he can count, or would want to count, but he also knows that he will always be there to help pick him up if it happens again. Sherlock has been stabbed in the back, laughed at, disgraced, lied to and beaten. He's been kicked down and left for dead, but he got up and moved forward alone. Well, John thinks, he doesn't have to be alone anymore. John carries it all for him, protecting him against all the emotional scars, and most of the physical ones too. He wakes up in the mornings and sees Sherlock's tired face and he tells himself that he will always carry them, because Sherlock doesn't deserve them. His face is enough to settle the deal, and John doesn't expect anything in return.
He gets it though. Even if it's not spoken about.
Sherlock carries everything that John has ever seen or done or had to do as an army Doctor. All the lives saved, the lives lost, all the horrific injuries he's seen and the ones he's sustained. Sherlock carries them, and he doesn't mind, because anything is better than John living with this, he thinks. He knows that people think him incapable of empathising with people or registering emotions, but with John it's different. He feels like he needs to, has to, not because John lives with him, or because he does it for Sherlock, but because he likes John. He loves John actually, and he knows that what they are doing is normal for people who love each other. He likes to think John loves him too. It's confusing, but Sherlock feels like he must, not just for John, but for himself. It makes him feel better to know that John feels better. All he really knows is that he loves John (which is odd in itself, because he's never really loved anyone in his life) and he will do anything to help him.
He watches the small man late at night sometimes, when they are both still in the living room and John has fallen asleep in his armchair. He sees the lines and wrinkles on the man's weary face and thinks that it is all worth it if John can sleep soundly at night, and in the mornings when he wakes and Sherlock sees his face, he knows that he will do it all again for him. Every time.
The bond between them never slips, never wavers. Not even for a second, because for all the sleepless nights, crazy experiments, moaning and idiocy in the relationship, each of them know they will never find another with the same regard for them, anywhere.
Sherlock and John also know that if they didn't have each other, who would pull them from the wreckage of themselves?
Sherlock looks at John and smiles, and John offers one back and mentally both of them promise to the other that they will never have to feel a thing.
-'Cause I will take it on the chin, for you, so lay your cuts and bruises over my skin.
I promise you won't feel a thing, oh, cause everything the world could throw,i'll stand in front and take the blow, for you.
And If I fall here, at least you know my dear that I would die for you, promise you won't ever feel a thing."
-The Script-You Won't Feel A Thing.