Trust Fall

by FarisPants

Sherlock gets miffed when he realizes that John's first response to getting injured is to call up Detective Inspector Lestrade. He decides to prove to John that he is perfectly capable of protecting John's back. But this is Sherlock we're talking about, and he can't really handle these interpersonal relationships.

1. Chapter 1

"Keep talking to me," Sherlock ordered, sprinting down the side street.

"I'd rather not," John wheezed, and Sherlock heard the pain colouring his voice like bright gashes on the inside of his chest. "I'm not going to pass out—"

"Prove it," Sherlock said sharply, hopping a fence and dancing across a few tabletops before leaping over the other side. "Keep talking."

"Hey!" a waiter shouted at him, glaring reproachfully behind him and holding a tray of beverages.

"TALK!" Sherlock spat into his mobile.

"What do you want to hear?" John asked wearily.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Sherlock said. "Just…tell me about one of your boring days at work."

"Sherlock, I don't work at the hospital anymore. I haven't worked there for months. How did you think I was maintaining a job while chasing you about London?"

"Right, right," Sherlock said. "Your latest girlfriend, what's popular on television these days, how….there's a siren on your side."

"Yeah," John said. "But I'll tell them to wait until you get here, okay? I told Greg that nothing can be touched until you get here."

"You called Lestrade?" Sherlock demanded, running into the side of a building. He could hear the sirens with his own ears now, not just through the phone.

"But he's not going to muss your scene," John said, and he was trying to sound calming, but his voice was too lanced with pain to have much of a soothing effect.

"You called Lestrade before you called me," Sherlock said, leaning against the building he had run into.

"Yeah, well, you weren't going to call the ambulance, were you?" John said. "You've stopped running, haven't you? Sherlock, we can talk this out later, just don't leave me hanging right now."

"Tell Lestrade to take you to the hospital," Sherlock snarled. "I won't be getting around to the scene for another hour or so."

"Sherlock—"

Sherlock ended the call and smashed his mobile against the wall. It picked up a few scratches, but still worked. He fired off a text to Lestrade—Send updates—and crept forward with soft footsteps.

He needed to see John's injuries.