I don't own any of the characters, however much I wish I did. If you read the summaries and things like that, then you know this is rated M and includes Slash as Sherlock and John are so obviously meant to be together.
I visualized this story as only these two chapters, but if you want more, please say so! I'm sure I could arrange for something to happen. It's Sherlock, something is bound to come up.!
"Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock!" It was a dull roar in the back of Sherlock's mind. He blinked several times and looked around 221B. John was sitting in front of him with a concerned look on his face.
"Can I help you, John?"
"I've been calling your name for the past five minutes and you just now respond?" John laid his head in his hands and shook his head for a few moments before looking back up.
"I was thinking. We have no leads for Lestrade and another body will be found tomorrow."
"How do you-? Never mind. I wanted to ask you something."
"Mhmm?" Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes.
"When was the last time you ate?"
Sherlock thought back for a moment, but his mind was soon drawn back to the case.
"Sherlock?"
"What!"
"When did you eat last?"
"I don't know; I'm not hungry."
John returned his head to his hands and groaned. If it weren't for him, Sherlock would probably be dead from lack of food or sleep. He stood and walked into the kitchen, finding an unopened bag of saltine crackers. It was better than nothing, and most likely the only edible food in the entire flat. He returned to Sherlock's side and put the crackers in his hand.
"Eat."
"I can't, eating slows my thinking down."
"Sherlock, you can't remember when the last time you ate was, but I can guarantee it wasn't today. I can also guarantee you haven't left that seat today." He forced the crackers at the detective again.
"I'm not hungry. Go phone Lestrade and tell him to look for any distinctive tattoos on the victim. They might be faded, so tell him to look carefully."
Sherlock closed his eyes and went deadly still as he thought deeply.
"Phone him yourself." Sherlock's eyes opened and narrowed at John.
"Please John?" He was begging, but John wouldn't cave in.
"I'll call if you'll eat."
Sherlock groaned and didn't answer. He would phone the Detective Inspector himself. He opened his eyes and jumped up, only for the world to tilt dramatically. He took a step, but he didn't know which way was down. He felt the world turning and soon found himself in the arms of John, only a few inches from the floor. John's face was blurry, and Sherlock blinked to clear his vision but it didn't help.
"Dammit Sherlock. I told you to eat! I'm going to put you in bed and you will eat. "
Sherlock tried to respond, but no words would come. John helped him to stand and kept his arm around Sherlock as they slowly made their way to Sherlock's room. John laid him in bed and returned a few moments later with the crackers.
"Eat." Sherlock shook his head. "Dammit Sherlock, just eat and you will feel better." He shook his head again. "If you don't eat, I will phone Lestrade and have him remove you from the case until you eat and sleep like a normal person."
Sherlock's eyes opened and he glared at John, but reached out for a cracker. He handed him one and Sherlock hesitantly ate it. They continued like this for several minutes until most of the package was gone. Sherlock was sitting up in the bed and his eyes weren't glazed over. His fingers were absently tapping on his knee and he was avoiding John's eyes.
"Feel better?"
Sherlock grudgingly answered positively.
"I'm going to go phone Lestrade and tell him what you said. You are going to get dressed and then we will go to Angelo's for a decent meal.
John left the room and returned with his phone. He dialed Lestrade's number and sat on the bed while Sherlock slowly made his way around the room gathering clothes. Sherlock ignored the conversation, already knowing what Lestrade's response would be. Instead, he concentrated on small, slow steps to stay on his feet. He was still dizzy, and quick movements made it worse. By the time John hung up, Sherlock was leaning against the wall, lightheaded and pale, but dressed.
"Come on Sherlock." John offered his arm and Sherlock gripped it tightly.
Together they walked down the stairs and out the door. John locked the flat and hailed a cab while Sherlock stood next to him with his eyes half closed.
"How are you feeling?"
Sherlock looked at him with a face twisted in pain. "Lightheaded, dizzy, headache; the sun is bright. This has never happened before."
"You haven't eaten in at least a week. Get in the cab."
He helped the detective into the cab and slid in beside him. Sherlock kept his grip on John's arm, and even laid his head on his shoulder. Sherlock was feeling sick. They were silent the entire ride to Angelo's, and Sherlock still didn't speak once they sat down at a table. He slumped forward with his head in his hands and his elbows on the table. John ordered soup for them both, but avoided his as he watched Sherlock eat.
"Feel any better?"
"Slightly."
"Finish your soup. We'll head back home and sleep. You can continue the case in the morning."
Sherlock nodded as he finished off the food and leaned back in his chair. John finished his, paid, and turned to help Sherlock up. He stood steady and was able to walk by himself. John kept his arm around Sherlock's waist just in case as they returned to a cab.
When they returned, John laid Sherlock in his bed and pulled the covers up over him. The room was dark as John left, and the voice that stopped him seemed smaller than normal.
"Don't leave."
John stopped and turned the light back on to look at Sherlock. Dark bags lined his eyes and he still looked pale. John wondered how he hadn't noticed the fatigue before. Sherlock hid himself too well.
"You need to sleep too. Sleep with me." John didn't hesitate.
He toed his shoes off and laid his jacket on the chair. He flipped the light back off and blindly made his way to the bed. He felt the covers move as Sherlock slid over, and John crawled in beside him. Then the covers shifted again as Sherlock curled up against John's side. John unconsciously, wrapped his arm around Sherlock, holding him close to him. Sherlock mumbled something, and John realized he was already asleep. John smiled as his eyes drifted closed and he too fell asleep.