5 Years Ago

by CrimsonSkeleton

Squeal of Copying with Life and It is gonna be alright.

2. Chapter One

That was 5 years ago just before John's death, just way before John returned to the Army.

Squeal of Copying with the Life and It is gonna be alright.

Chapter One - 5 YEARS AGO

John deliberately taught Sherlock for the right attitudes. Sherlock hate how John disciplining him so strictly. But John never make so strict. He just showed for how to make it the right way. Sherlock rather to make his own way, his own 'showing off' attitudes.

John explained if Sherlock want people to look up on him, he should show friendly a bit more. Sherlock find it boring. So boring to show friendly to everyone.

Sherlock lie down on the leather sofa, with his sleepwear on, usually in blue gown, curling up himself, thinking in his Mind Place.

John was making a cup of tea for himself and Sherlock. The cup of tea for Sherlock that left a bit cold.

"Sherlock, your cup of tea is getting cold."

"Yep."

"So? Are you drinking it now or what?"

"Yes, but I am thinking."

"Thinking of what?"

"Just thinking."

Sighing, John just looked at the newspapers, reading while slipping of the cup of tea into his mouth. It gives him flesh and warm in his sore throat.

Sherlock looked up at John.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you be remains in the flat, say forever?"

This question startled John. He looked back at Sherlock directly.

"Huh? Well, of course. If you are worried about me moving out with the future wife."

"Actually, I would be lonely if you move out."

"Oh Sherlock, I would visit you when I gets married!"

"Would you?"

"Of course! Sherlock, since when you bought it up? We never talk about this before. Where all this coming from?"

Sherlock silenced, snuggles up his cushion against his cheek, looking away.

"Sherlock? Would you like to talk about it?"

"No."

"Or would you like to dare to make me more kind to you?"

"Don't." Sherlock given a eye shot at John.

"I am willing. Here I come."

"Do not you dare, John!"

"Sherlock." John sat up, walked up to him, and looked down at Sherlock's panicking eyes.

"John, please, don't." he pulled a cushion to his face, try to hiding himself.

"I am not going to pressure you, Sherlock, but I want to know what's wrong, so then I know how can help you. What's with the moving out stuff anyway?" he placed his hands on his both hips.

"Nothing, it was just a thought. It's just ... I was thinking."

"With your deduction?"

"You could say that."

"Then help me. With my deduction."

"Ok, I would be scared if you move out. I would be scared if I lose you."

"Sherlock...oh Sherlock. Haha, it's gonna be alright, Sherlock. I am not gonna leaving yet. It's too soon. And plus, I was about to getting married. So if I were get married, I will always been there for you, whatever that happens. Me and Mary will visit you in one day."

"But what if..."

"Hm?" tilted his head.

"What if you're dead?" he looked up at John's eyes, shows full of frightening.

Frozen. John left his mouth open, looked shocked. And closed his mouth, then opened it again, trying to find the words.

"Ah...uhm...well...how...well, oh well, how would you...cope with that?"

"I would die of boredom and depression."

"Ah, uhm, oh god, I never expected you ask me that. Well, uhm, Sherlock, If I were died, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Stop being a fault to yourself. If I were died, it just happens. You cannot change that, you know that. And don't you dare to think about of changing back to the past time with your ... uhm, experiments. It's impossible. So, please don't be so hard on yourself. You can grieve for me, because, well, uhm, it's not good feeling to keep it to yourself, like all the time. You have to let it go. You can revel your feelings to your brother, or anyone else who you think they are very useful to you. So...just...don't..."

"Hurt myself?"

Just about John say something, he muttered. "W-What? What did you say?"

"HURT. Hurt myself, John."

"In what way, Sherlock?"

Sherlock sighed deeply, he sat up, placed his both hands together in between on his knees, looking up at John. "John, sit down, please."

John did so.

"I know it's sounds stupid to you, but I am not sure how to expressing to you. So, now I try my best to explain to you. Hurt myself is a way of cutting myself. On my arms."

"S-Sher-you did this because?"

"I failed."

"On what?"

"On you."

"What?!"

Sherlock flinched by John's yelling, so he stopped talking instantaneously.

"Oh god, I am so sorry, Sherlock. I didn't mean that. I was just shocked when you said that. I mean, why did it have to do with me? What did I make hurt yourself?"

Sherlock say nothing.

With this, John sighed. So he moved a bit closer to Sherlock, looked at his eyes properly. "Sherlock, talk to me, please. I want to help you. Please."

John pushed himself to show kindness to Sherlock because John know this feeling could bring Sherlock to revel his feelings towards to John. Because Sherlock needed that. Sherlock needed a kindness and thoughtful. And also, more important is; listening.

"Ok. I felt I failed on you. Because of what's happened after the fall."

John tried to remember that fall part. "Fall?" then that hit him. "Ah, when you jumped. Sherlock, that was...long time ago. But anyway, forget about it."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because of your anger and upset bought me in shame and pain. After all this years, I failed you. I failed to explain to you why I did this. I wanted to tell you this before I took a suicide but I couldn't. Because if I did, you would be not acting as you know I am already dead. It would be so easier for snipers to know that you didn't show any heartbroken in the end of my death and you would be next dead. John, all I did this was protecting you so you would be alive."

"Yes, I know, Sherlock. Thanks for that, but this! This self-harm. This doesn't make sense."

"I did this because I felt awful to make you like this. Faking suicide affected you. When you punched me, I felt I had something wrong. I expected you said 'hello, it was lovely to see you again', but it turned out you just punched right of my face."

"..." John left speechless.

"With this feelings of yours has left me confused. So I was trying to deduce it. To understand it why did you do that to me. But I never get it. I was so failing to understand this feelings. I might be a machine, but I am still a human, John. Perhaps, I never have an experience with such things like this. Your anger. My faking suicide. To connect this, I felt I made you upset, and it left me to blame myself. I had to self-harm myself. To see if I have any pain like you had when you see me pretends to be dead, or see me alive again. When I slashed it on my arm, I could feel a tiny bit sore. It was weird."

John wanted to protest it, but have to listen Sherlock first when he finished, then John will say something. So John nodded.

Sherlock looked at John. "I failed to make this unity again, John, after I returned back from the death."

John quickly took Sherlock's hand, closed his eyes to try not to cry, just slightly sniffed.

Sherlock looked at him, puzzled.

"Did I make you upset? Now I am feeling bad."

"No, Sherlock, stop it! Stop this now!"

"What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing! You hurt yourself because of me! Now I feel so bad! Just like you! Because I never realized you expect me to be happy to see you! God, Sherlock! You know what was it feeling like when you appeared when I was about to purpose Mary. At first, I thought you were dead! You left me grieve for you! I visited your grave for many times! Because Sherlock, I missed you! It was like so lost without you! I thought I never have a friend like you anymore!"

"R-Right...now I understand it...well, slowly. Continue."

John growled.

"John?"

"UNDERSTAND IT?!" John yelled and sat up quickly and walked to the kitchen.

Sherlock just dumb there, blinked. "John?"

John let out of sobbing.

Sherlock sat up, walked to John in the kitchen. "John? I am so sorry to make you upset. Yes, I understand it. You thought I left you so much in grief because you thought I was playing a game with you. To see you cry in my grave, for the fun. John, everything you thought about me when I returned was not true. I wanted to appear to you just after my death because I could not see you upset anymore. You were crying all the time. I tried to do the same to you. To cry with you. To say I am sorry. To say I am so stupid. To say I am a bad friend. But all I did was protecting you. I thought you understood this. But now you just hate me for it."

John sobbed, plicking his bridge of the nose with his fingers, sighing. Sniffing, he blinked his teary eyes and turned and looked at Sherlock. "I know, Sherlock. I know, but I couldn't hate you for that. I couldn't. I just upset because it was 2 years. 2 years was a longer to be waiting for you to return. 2 years made me think you are already dead. Just dead. Nothing gonna be happens if you returns again."

"I know. I am sorry."

"You always saying sorry, Sherlock. I already forgive you. It is forgotten now. But now, your self-harm." walked up to Sherlock, eyes looking at Sherlock's eyes. "Shall I clean them up for you?"

Sherlock muttered and blinked. "So, you don't mind? You don't hate me for this?"

John shorted. "I am a doctor and a good friend. What's more can I do?"

"Yes, but this self-harm can make you feeling horrible if these stays dry."

"I don't care. This cuts are yours, your skin, your body. I cannot take it off. These scars might reminds you of something that you wish of what you have done in long time ago, but today you will remember it as I forgave you. "

Sherlock smiled. "Thanks. I shall remember it as a sign as for your forgiveness."

John went to the bathroom to find the first aid kit. Sherlock stood in the same place in the kitchen, put a hand around his back neck, rubbing it. He given it out a grunt, sighing, let a hand out of his neck, looking around. When John arrived with the first aid kit, Sherlock looked back at him, smiling with the welcome back. John knew that sign very well.

"Ok, Sherlock. I want you please to sit down and allow me to dressing your arms. It might be a bit sore when I sponge the cuts with the special liquid for stop bleeding or also to create a new skin to cover it, but I know you will be bear with it. Now, sit down please."

The tall figure walked up to the armchair and sit down, patience for John to finding the right dressing for him.

John came over to Sherlock, with the dressing and special liquid and a small yellow sponge. He sprayed a liquid onto the sponge, squeeze it and gently placed on the raven-haired's arm. Sherlock gritted his teeth, whining lightly.

"Sorry, it is going to be a bit hurt. But soon it will go away."

John gently tapped a sponge on each of Sherlock's flesh cuts, to clean the small bleeding away and at same time the dry cuts. When John finished with that, he placed a long dressing pad and wrapped around it with the flesh banagae. When he done with that, he did another one arm as well. Same thing when Sherlock let a painful whine as John placed a sponge on another arm. After he finished with that, John put things away to the bin provided. He returned to Sherlock and sat on edge of armchair, crossed his arms and looked down at Sherlock.

"Feeling better now?"

"Yes, thank you. And thank you for not walk away when I told you this."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because sometimes you always do that."

"Not when you had a bad attitude."

"What is the difference between with my problems and my cold attitude?"

"Heh, your cold attitude made me fed up so I had to left because I needed a peace, from you. But when you have or had a problem, I couldn't leave you like this."

"Oh. Besides my cold attitude, you couldn't stand with the objects in the fridges."

"Oh, god! That is disgusting! I wish you shouldn't put those there!"

"Shall I clean them away?"

"Huh? Uhm, that's would be great if you do that."

"Because I didn't want to see you to think of me weird."

"Ah, well, I thought you were weird at the first place but then I realized it was only for your experiments. You are not weird at all. You just a strange one sometimes. Mad scientist. But I couldn't stop you there, because it's your hobby."

"Not as hobby as my own Mind Place."

"Ah, thinking is your hobby? Interesting."

"Yep. John, thank you for everything. So what would you like to do?"

John blinked at this. "Sherlock? You never asked me this before."

"Well?"

"Ah, uhm, dunno. What would you like to do?"

"I would be tempted to go back on my experiments but you hate to see the limbs in the fridges, so..."

"How about Boys Night Out?"

"What's that?"

"Its...it's for the boys who hang out together for the night out. Like drinking, or dancing, or whatever."

"Dancing? How do you dance in the night out?"

"In, uh, the pub?"

"Oh, where people having a fun, drinking, screaming, laughing and smashing people's heads with the glasses. Sounds dull. Shame. Not my thing."

Snorted in giggles. "So, Sherlock, what exactly would you like to do?"

"You asked me like third time. You don't have to be repeat and I don't have a faintest clue. What did you do when you go on the Boys Night Out?"

"Uh. . . in the pub."

"Ohhhh! Ok, pub then. Let's go."

"Ok, but I would look out for you, just in case."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, you can't trust people there. They were like the shark to catch the prey."

"Hmm. I would be curious to see that."

"Uhm, ok, let's change a plan. Not good idea to bring you in the pub. How about a Sleepover?"

"Sleepover?"

"Don't tell me you don't know what is it."

"Something you sleep over on the bed?"

"No. Sleepover is where you spend the night at a friend's house or flat."

"Oh. But you sleep upstairs." Sherlock pointed his finger up.

"Yes, and I sleepover here, which means I sleep here."

"Oh, right so you can sleep on my bed and I sleep on the sofa."

"No Sherlock."

"Huh?"

"First of all, it has absolutely nothing to do with any sexual activities, Sherlock. It can be sharing with the bed. We can watch TV together. Or order a takeaway Pizza and eat together. Talk each other. Pillows fight. Something that we can do something crazy as the teenage."

"Ah. Ok...so, what do you want to do now?"

"Now this is gonna be a long night to ask this same questions."

"Sorry, I am not really good at this 'friend-zones' things."

"Ok, how about start with the game then? Like Truth or Dare?"

"Oh, sounds quite fun. Ok, you first."

"Truth or dare?"

"Hmm. I start with the dare."

John raised his both eyebrows in surprised. "Really? Ok, I dare you to...go downstairs and tell Mrs Hudson that how much you appreciated her caring and look after us, mostly you."

"What? Isn't this kind of joke game?"

"Nope, Sherlock, this is serious game. Now go, or I will stay here until you have to complete this game."

Sherlock groaned so he had go downstairs and knocked on Mrs Hudson's door.

In the few minutes, John heard nothing downstairs, no screaming or yelling, nothing. I hope Sherlock would do nothing weird. Or perhaps he pretends to knocks on the door and say hi quickly to her and just wait, do nothing and maybe come up with the fake dare.

The footsteps has disturbing his thought. Sherlock has returned and sat down in the front of John.

"Well? Oh..."

John chuckled when he noticed a lipstick mark on Sherlock's lips' side.

"I take it pretty well?"

"Yep, I don't know why but she looked so pleased to hear me this and gave me all this kissing stuffs on me."

John smiled. "Glad to hear that. Now your turn."

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Ah, hmm...John, you know me that I know you very well. But is it true that you don't hate me?"

"Huh? Of course I don't hate you! You are my friend!"

"Ok, second question; you don't hate me if I were self-harm myself?"

John sighed deeply, arms crossed tightly, looked up then looked down on the floor, smirking. "Sherlock, like I said before, it's your body. Whatever it comes to your mind, and you feel you want to do this to clear this awful thoughts away, you feel you cannot control yourself and you want to cut your skin to distract your negative thinking. When you feel the pain, you feel much better. I know it's sounds weird. It's like an opposite from the people who have so soft with the pain, they can be screaming or crying. But for you, you feel strong. You are fine now, right?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Then there you go. I can't stop you there. You just wanted to. You might think if I let you do this, but, Sherlock, when I heard you said you had self-harm yourself, and you know how I feel about this? Awful. Because self-harm is absolutely no good. You do know that, don't you? But, I know this can help you to think something else, like push aside on the negative thinking. I never have an experience this before, but I have a bad shot on my shoulder, that's different. This doesn't affected me when I had it, it does reminds me of something , but it's just a small mark, nothing serious. Your is worse. You got so far, more marks than me. But to me, your marks are beauty. It's just the skin."

"Ok...you are too nice, John."

"Wanna hear more?"

"Oh god, no, no more. That's enough. Your kindness is too far to take in for me. It's just...when I see this scars,...I feel I enjoy it...you know?"

"You. Are. Just. A. Mad. Scientist, Sherlock. Nothing more." with a smile.

"I might be or not might be. But I am so glad that you accepted me."

"Sherlock, I am your friend, don't forget that. And don't make me kiss your scars for make me sorry for you."

"Oh. That's would be necessary for that."

John raised an eyebrow. "Say it again?"

"I mean, it is no need for that. I'm fine, thank you."

"Unless...?"

"Unless if I ask you to."

"Oh Sherlock!" bursts out a laughter. "I was just a kidding!"

Sherlock blinked, surprised. "Oh. I thought you were serious."

"No."

"How about now?"

"Huh? I'm serious."

Sherlock pulled a sheelve up and drop arm at John, waiting for him to kiss it. "My scars are needed to be kissed. Just a quick one."

John blushed lightly and chuckled nervously. "Sherlock...Sherlock, I-I am joking. I mean, they are alright now, right?"

"No. They are sore."

John gritted his teeth, speaks thorough it. "Sherlock..."

"They are necessary to be changed. It looks old."

"SHERLOCK. YOU NEVER CHANGED!"

"But, I'm hurt, and I am starting to think of another one to cut on."

"Oh, no! DON'T YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT!" John yelled, with an anger face. Now this is showing the true of his emoticons.

"Ah, now this is truth."

John calmed down a bit. "Huh?" a confused.

"You said it's my body and do whatever I want. And now you are against it."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, it's just I hate it. I hate how to hear every time you want to cut yourself."

"Then help me."

"How?"

"How? You are a doctor, for god's sake!"

"I am, but I have no patients who have this self-harms before!"

"Then I will be your first patient with a self-harm. What would you do now with it?"

"I-I. . . I am not sure, Sherlock."

Sherlock sat up, walked to his bedroom, and locked his door behind.

"Oh, Sherlock. . . ." John placed a hand over on his face, yelled in shame.

Just for about 15 minute, John decided to check up on Sherlock. He walked to Sherlock's bedroom door and knocked on it twice.

"Sherlock?"

No response.

"Sherlock?" he knocked it again, twice. "Sherlock?"

Everything seems silence, like no one is there. What's going on here?

"Oh, god, don't tell me. . . ."

Don't tell me that Sherlock is thinking about . . . .

"SHERLOCK!" he yelled. John's left shoulder give a strong bang againist the door, to try to break the lockpins. "Sherlock! Are you there?!" he kicked a doorknob, now the door left open with just one shot. His Army training taught him of how to a good kick against the door, even it was locked. He had been training for it.

"Sherlock!"

When the door was busted open, John saw a figure lying on the bed, unmovement.

"Sherlock?"