Title: Home and Dry
Fandom: Sherlock
Summary: Post Reichenbach. Harry & Sherlock get into a row with John right in the middle of it.
Word Count: 1,277
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.
…
Harry and Sherlock had never really been 'best mates' or gotten along but ever since Sherlock's stunt of of jumping off a building and disappearing for 3 years the two had really been hostile towards one another. John of course was being placed right in the middle of the battlefield.
"You don't deserve my brother." Harry spat at the detective, her voice dropping an octave or two from it's usual register. "What you did was terrible..."
"Harry..." John scolded from his place against the wall near the kitchen. He had been hanging back in an effort to try to stay out of the bickering but like always he was being pulled back in.
There was a coldness that swirled in Sherlock's deep blue eyes, a sudden change in them and then it was gone. His lips twitched to form a sort of smirk as his mind had seemed to work something out. "Do you really think you of all people should be reprimanding someone? How is Clara?"
Harriet stepped back a few paces brushing her long chestnut hair back from her face. She'd lost all of her bite with that comment and her face showed it. The ache and distress danced across her features. She licked her lips before turning sharply and walking away from the tall man.
Sherlock smirked to himself, clearly he had won the argument. He was quite proud of himself for that one. John's face came into view once Harry's figure had retreated and he could see it was full of reprehension. It caused Sherlock's smile to disappear completely and he was left feeling very rueful.
John glared at the man but it wasn't one of those playful glares he was used to seeing back before his... departure. No, this was an almost hateful and menacing glare. The doctor shoved past him going after his sister probably to make sure she was alright.
Sherlock was left alone in the living room with his thoughts. He frowned remorseful that he had angered John but truly he couldn't have let Harry get away with that. Who was she? Mother Superior? Truly, she loved playing the part nevertheless she always came up lacking no matter how hard she tried. And really, all of this was none of her business. He wouldn't have anyone coming in here and trying to tell him or John how to live their lives.
He heard the two speaking diligently in the hallway just outside the living room door. They'd probably be heading out soon to dinner or something... anything to get away from Sherlock, no doubt. He strolled over to the window and grasped his violin. Deciding to play a soft and lulling tune he let his gaze wander out the window and down towards the street as he played.
John and Harry were heading up the stairs to John's bedroom to speak more discreetly. The violin's sounds filtered up the stairs behind them and the doctor sighed. He wasn't sure what he feeling in that moment... anger? Tribulation? His emotions had been all over the map lately.
Shutting the door behind them John turned to see Harry already sitting on the edge of his bed in quiet contemplation. Her hazel eyes stared intently at one of the baseboards near the floor. He couldn't help but frown at her.
A long time passed between them as the silence seemed to be deafening in the room. Although, faintly you could still hear the sounds of Sherlock's violin being played.
"I don't think it's healthy for you to continue to be with him. I think you should end it."
Harry's voice seemed to have come out of nowhere and it slightly startled John when she had began speaking. Her words however had startled him all the more.
"What?! No... uh, no..." he chuckled uncomfortably. "What makes you think that we're together?"
He peered down at her bemusedly.
His sister lifted her eyes slowly and met his gaze with a look that screamed 'are you being serious right now?'.
John shifted under her gaze from one foot to the other and then opted to simply lean against the bedroom wall. "Look, I'm... I'm angry with him too. You have no idea how much. The man... he's..."
He frowned unable to get his words out quite right and felt a burning beginning to build within him. All of the hostility that had been swirling inside of him the last few weeks was starting to seep out of him and he feared he would be unable to keep it inside much longer.
"He takes off for 3 years and he comes back and he says it was for the greater good and he was... he was doing me a favor." John laughed bitterly strolling towards the window to peer out in an effort to hold back the floodgates of his emotions but it was simply too late.
He began to move all around the small room wildly waving his hands in a spectacle type way.
"All I know is that I... I can't forgive him. I can't, Harry. He has done so much... he's hurt people... Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade... and... and me..."
John trailed off quietly in anguish as he felt tears begin to prick at his eyes. He turned away from her and faced one of the walls which were wallpapered with some sort of design Mrs. Hudson probably loved. He had never bothered redecorating his room after moving in and it had been so many years now. Why was that he wondered?
Harry was still as she sat on the edge of her brother's bed completely unmoving. She was feeling a lot of things at the moment but most of all right then she felt the need to cause severe misery to that man downstairs. She hated him she decided. She did. She had always tried to just get along with the man for John's sake. She'd held her tongue when she could around him, when she wasn't inebriated and therefore incapable of doing so. She dealt with the detective's criticisms of her and... Clara. She didn't mind so much having to put up with it all because she knew that he made John happy. Her brother was the only family she had left in this world and she only wanted what was best for him.
But seeing now just how truly broken the man had become had really pushed her over the edge. She stood up and grasped at his shoulders gently turning him to face her. He really was a wreck. Tears had streamed down his face causing a ruddy complexion on his skin. She noted with interest that the violin music had ceased from down below and she wondered if the detective was now 'listening in' to their conversation and trying to deduce something. No matter, they wouldn't be staying much longer anyway.
"Hey! Let's go out, my treat, yeah? We can get some Chinese." she smiled at him trying to inspire some sort of positivity in his down trodden spirit.
John blinked at her for a moment before scrubbing at his face wearily. He was so bloody tired. Not physically but emotionally... spiritually. "Sure... yeah, that sounds bloody great. I'm starved."
The two stood for a moment more both in reserved deliberation inside their own heads. The blonde man seemed to come to a decision about something because when he met her eyes again he smiled at his sister in such a chipper way, one she had not seen for god knows how long.
"Alright... I know a place. Let's go!"
