Hey guys! Here is the second chapter of Love is a drug, as I promised! This time it is from the eyes of Sherlock. Hopefully this will clear up some questions from the first chapter! The next chapter of Why does this always happen to me is on its way, so will update soon! It may take some time because I want to write a few chapters in advance. So yeah. My next Sherlock story, The first fall, will be uploaded soon, just have to write it first! Enjoy. =]
Ugh! Lestrade has roped him in again to solve a mundanely boring case once again. Or at least it sounded it over the phone. Apparent suicide, happens all the time, but he still came since he has been on edge all week. Mycroft said there had been some difficulty over in Afghanistan. When he arrived he looked it over, instantly seeing that it was most defiantly not a normal suicide. Serial suicides, who would have thought? He looked it over and his brain instantly started to whizz around. He noticed a thousand things that everybody else, especially Anderson, had missed.
"Well it was really quite obvious, but of course you with your little brains can't figure it out. Wet coat, so it was raining, so is the underside of her collar, so it was windy, but not just windy, since she has a dry umbrella, plus since her coat is still wet it must be at least an hour since she got here. Checking the weather forecast the only place around her that was due to rain and have strong winds within an hour of here, Cardiff." He started to speak out loud. It must be awfully boring inside their heads. They should have noticed all of this!
" Look for-" Sherlock started again. BEEP!He was cut off. 2 beats, text message. Mycroft. He quickly whipped his phone out of his pocket.
To: Sherlock
From: Mycroft
John's been shot, wait at 221b, I'll send the car. -MH
Sherlock quickly looked up. John can't be shot, he's not allowed to be. Who's going to look after him? Sherlock thought. Tears pricking behind his eyes and the occasional traitorous tear escaping down his cheeks. He shakily stood up and started for the door. Before he left he would have to talk to Lestrade.
"L-lestrade" Why did his voice sound so weak? Is this emotions? Mycroft was right, Caring wasn't an advantage.
"I will be ne-eeding a f-few days off, emotional l-leave" He would leave this job for good if it meant that John would be okay. He quickly pushed pass Lestrade and made for 221b. Today would be a long day.
He headed back to 221b. He was nervous. Sherlock Holmes doesn't get nervous. Well he did when his John's life was on the line. He walked towards his decidedly empty, new flat. He had been living with Mrs. Hudson, in 221b, for a few months now. He moved there so that the NSY could keep an eye on him. They moved him here when they found the drugs. It wasn't like moving him could stop the drugs. That was John's job. The thought of having John disappointed in him, scared him more than anything, so he straightened himself out.
But right now, with the thought of John in a hospital bed in some foreign country, bleeding out, because of a shot, mad him want his first fix in months. He just wanted the gnawing pit of anxiety to just disappear. His train of thought was cut short at the sight of the smart, black car, belonging to his brother. Mycroft was here.
Sherlock wouldn't usually lean on his brother for support, but this time was difference. Normally he was strong and independent, but right now he really needed some compassion. He could even bare a hug from his sibling. But most of all he would like a hug from his lover. His John. But he couldn't have a hug from John because he was currently in a different country, possibly dying.
He got into the rear seat, behind his brother. They took the 45 minute drive to his brother's house. They spent the entire ride in a eerie silence. Mycroft in his usual quietness and Sherlock in his nerve induced visions. They finally arrived at the Elder Homes' house and were ushered towards the private office. Mycroft sat behind his desk and Sherlock sat opposite him. His posture was slouched, elbows on his knees, his hands steeped beneath his chin. His eyes were shut, to prevent the worry being conveyed through them.
"Sherlock I-" Mycroft started. Sherlock swiftly cut him off and getting to the point.
"How is John?" Sherlock snapped quickly.
"John is stable, and alive" Mycroft said stoically. Sherlock let out a breath he was aware he was holding. A sense of relief flooded his system, John was alive. His john was alive!
"And he is coming home tomorrow. Officially dispatched, he's not going back." Mycroft said. This was amazing, John was coming home and staying home for good.
His phone started to ring. He looked down at the name. Lestrade. It was probably about before. He picked up the call.
"Hello? Sherlock, how are you feeling?" Came Lestrades voice from the end of the phone. He sounded, odd.
"I'm feeling great, you?" Sherlock responded, his voice filled with glee from the previous revelations.
"Good. So Sherlock about be-" Lestrade went to speak again but Sherlock cut him off.
"Actually Lestrade, I am going to need a few days off, you know for personal reasons" He was going to have to get John's possessions moved to their new flat.
A large noise from the hall way signified that it was time to go. He would have to be home soon.
"OOOH, Got to go now Graham." Was that his name? "You can ask me whatever it was later. BYE!" Sherlock hung up the phone. He really wanted to get home in order to make their flat perfect for John's arrival.
He stood up after saying his goodbyes and well wished to his brother and made to the driveway where a black car was undoubtedly waiting for him to take him home.
He and Mrs Hudson was going to be redecorating.
Sherlock was ecstatic! Sherlock was waiting for John in the airport. He just couldn't believe that John, his John, was finally coming home! When John finally came into view Sherlock couldn't help himself and literally ran at John and enveloped him in the biggest bear hug he could muster. A little grunt from John reminded him though that he had been injured. He pulled away slightly, taking Johns good arm, and mumbled sorry. This just gained him a big smile and a kiss from John.
When they got home they went straight to the bedroom. They shared stories and let's just say things got a little heated. After that Sherlock left, telling John to relax, to get dinner. When Sherlock came back though he was not as happy. Lestrade had organised a drugs bust in the middle of the day! Even after he had asked for some time off. He walked straight towards the bedroom where John still was.
When he was in the corridor he saw Donovan, Donovan of all people, advancing quickly toward his bedroom. There was no way that he was going to let Donovan in there with a potentially inappropriate John. No way!
"DO NOT GO IN THERE!" Sherlock shouted at Donovan. She sneered at him.
"Why not Freak? You could be hiding something in there" Sally responded sarcastically.
"You think I am doing drugs again?" Sherlock asked exasperatedly. He had been clean since John and he had gotten married.
"Of course, freak." Donovan made another advance towards his bedroom. Without thinking Sherlock hit her away from the room.
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO IN THERE!" He shouted.
"JESUS, freak no need to get all over protective of your precious little room, but I have to go in there" She looked at Sherlock incredulously and Sherlock grunted. Sherlock froze when a grunt also came from a most likely sleeping John. Donovan walked away with her hand up in fake surrender and Sherlock relaxed. He looked over to Donovan who was murmuring something to Lestrade, but he didn't care.
Once they had all left he and John returned to what they had planned for the evening.
A week later Sherlock and John were just about used to having each other around and even though John had been back for an entire week they hadn't gotten bored of each other just yet. I mean Sherlock could never be bored of John but they were still making out like there was no tomorrow. Whilst they were enjoying each other's company Sherlock got a text.
From: Lestrade
To: Sherlock Holmes
Where are you? We need your help on the Serial suicide case.
Sherlock couldn't believe it. Couldn't Lestrade tell that he was busy?
From: Sherlock Holmes
To: Lestrade
Busy -SH
Sherlock was glad when Mrs Hudson told them that she had send Lestrade away during one of their make out sessions later that day. Otherwise that would have been very awkward indeed.
Finally after another few days of domesticity Sherlock grew restless and needed another case. So he got in touch with Lestrade and travelled to the address he was given, with John in tow.
"Hello, nice to see you back, Sherlock!" Lestrade greeted Sherlock back warmly. Not even fazed by John's presence.
"Hello Lestrade." Sherlock replied less fondly, but then gave him a smile after John gave him a nudge and a stern look.
"Ahh, Hello freak! Who have you got there? Did you kidnap him?" Donovan joined in on the conversation. Of course Donovan had to get involved. When the word 'freak' left her lips he felt John tense behind him. He would make her pay for using such a word.
"Hello, Sally I presume, I am John Watson, I am Sherlock's new... Colleague, I am helping him out with a few things" John was obviously trying to suppress a giggle. Yes John definitely was helping him out with a few things indeed. Leave it to John to brighten up a moment. He truly did love this man.
"Who would want to spend time with freak?" Donovan sneered and declined the hand that John had outstretched to shake hers.
Sherlock ignored her and started on the case. With John right by his side he would get this done very quickly.
Sherlock had solved the case. It was easy really. It was the cabbie obviously. With Johns help though, it went a lot smoother than planned and Sherlock wasn't killed!
He and John were walking away from the crime scene and were headed for a celebratory dinner when Anderson just had to go and ruin a moment. I mean even Donovan had warmed up to John, so at least there were no harsh words from either of them. But obviously to Anderson the idea of someone willingly spending time with him. So instead of thinking to himself he could only pass jibes and insults.
"So how many times did he have to drug you?"
"Why didn't you try to run like the rest of them?"
"Are you a freak to?"
"Are you being held at gun point?" At the word gun John tensed again and started to shake, a lot. Sherlock couldn't believe how stupid Anderson could be sometimes. Really? Asking someone suffering from PTSD and just returned from war if they were being held at gun point? Sherlock quickly rushed to Johns aid and pulled him into a comforting hug and whispered comforts into his ear. Anderson had gone too far this time, how dare he be so insulting sometimes! He shot a death glare at Anderson over Johns shoulder. From what he could also see was that Lestrade was also glaring at Anderson along with Donovan.
When John finally stood up Sherlock gave him support and walked towards their car. Then Sherlock had a great idea. Obviously John had the same idea because they both looked at each other and nodded. Sherlock leaned down and planted a kiss on Johns mouth which John then deepened.
"Freaks got a boyfriend!" Anderson shouted at them from behind.
"Husband, actually!" Sherlock shouted back with a smirk and a nod at John. They walked back to the car once more, hand in hand.
Anderson's mouth was open as the pair drove away and Sherlock couldn't help but feel proud of the dumbfounded expression. He couldn't believe that he had just ousted their carefully hidden relationship. But he couldn't care less because love makes you do crazy things and in Sherlock's opinion Love is a drug and is the best kind.