Dear John, I see it all now that you're gone.
Don't you think I was too young
To be messed with?
The girl in the dress
Cried the whole way home, I should've known.
The next day 221b Baker Street was filled with the noise of shouting, things being moved and of course, more shouting.
The main reason for the shouting (which was mostly coming from John) was Sherlock. He was slouched in the sofa complaining he was bored and muttering about his brain cells dying. John was attempting to pack his things so he was ready to move out. He never realised he had so much stuff. John had asked Sherlock plenty of times already to help him but Sherlock's answer was always no.
"I'm bored!" Sherlock shouted from the living room.
John who was currently attempting to get down the stairs whilst carrying a box that was nearly bigger than him, was fighting the urge to run back up the stairs and punch the man.
"Well why don't you come and help me then?" He shouted back up at him. The consulting detective was really starting to annoy him now. The genius always insisted on being so childish.
"Boring!" Came the curt reply.
That's it John though. John dropped the box and stormed up the stairs and into the living room.
"For gods sake Sherlock just come and help me carry some boxes down the stairs! It doesn't require much effort! You and your bloody long arms and legs should be able to manage it if I can!"
Sherlock was looking at John questioningly and raised his eyebrow slightly.
"You can barely manage it John."
"That's why I need your help! Oh I see..."
"What do you see John?"
"I see that the so called genius Sherlock Holmes is incapable of lifting a box because he is to lazy and probably doesn't even know how to. He probably deleted it! I can't wait to put that on my blog!"
John knew that it would get Sherlock's attention.
"Actually John you are mistaken. I do in fact know how to lift a box. I can't delete everything you know. And see if I care if you write that on your blog. I've seen worse."
John could see however that Sherlock didn't want him to put it on his blog, it bothered him what people thought of him. He didn't like to be thought of as stupid.
"Sherlock can you stop being so childish and stubborn and come and help me!"
"So basically you want me to stop being myself?"
"Yes!...wait what?" John wasn't sure if he has just heard that right. Sherlock Holmes had a sense of humour?
"Problem?" Sherlock asked looking up at John.
"No...no I'm fine...just thinking."
"Yes John, I am capable of making a joke...when the opportunity rises. I just don't see much point in them so I don't do it often." Sherlock had a mischievous grin on his face as he looked up at John who was looking at him, completely baffled.
"Ok. Well you should do it more often, and stop being a serious twat all the time." When John said this there was nothing mean about it. That was something Sherlock was going to miss about John, how he never said anything that was meant to hurt him.
"Dull." Sherlock remarked.
"Ok just a suggestion. Anyway...are you going to come and help me or not?" John folded his arms and gave him a glare.
"Fine" Sherlock sighed. He didn't want to help him pack. It was dull. Nothing exciting about it and Sherlock didn't want to help John move out. To normal people that would have sounded selfish, Sherlock thought, but the truth was, he didn't want John to go.
"No no no no no! Sherlock stop! That doesn't go in that one it goes in the other one!"
John was starting to wonder if he had made a mistake asking Sherlock to help him. The man was a genius but seemed incapable of doing small things like this. The detective was currently trying to squash 6 of John's books into a box that was meant to be for all of his underwear.
"Sherlock, can you please try and keep some of the stuff organised."
"Why? Your only going to take it all out again." Sherlock didn't see any point in keeping everything in certain boxes when it would be taken out and reorganised again.
"I would like to be able to find my things." John was trying to look annoyed but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when he saw he worlds only consulting detective wrestle with a box that was to full and wouldn't shut.
"John! Stop laughing and help me! The box is too small! You need to go buy some bigger boxes!" Sherlock sat on top of the box to try and close the lid. However this didn't work quite to Sherlock's plan. Instead when he sat down on it the box gave way beneath him and broke causing everything that was in there to scatter all over the floor.
"No, you need to stop filling them to much!" John was laughing so hard that his stomach started to hurt.
Sherlock was laid out in the floor completely stunned. Mrs Hudson, who must have wondered what all the noise was, came in and burst out laughing as well.
"Oh Sherlock!" She was finding it hard to speak whilst laughing. "What happened?"
Sherlock sat up and glared at both John and Mrs Hudson.
"The boxes that John bought are not big enough and obviously not strong enough!" He said waving his hands around wildly.
"Sherlock!" Cried Mrs Hudson, she had finally stopped laughing. "Your bleeding."
"Hmmm? What? Oh yeah...I think I hit my head on the bed frame as I went down. Nothing to worry about." Sherlock was completely unfazed by the cut on his forehead and instead continued to glare at John.
"When are you going to stop being so childish John?"
John who had just stopped laughing snorted at this.
"I can't believe you just said that! Anyway...let me look at your head."
"It's fine." Sherlock said and was about to get up but John grabbed hold of his hand and made him stay sat down.
"Seriously John? I am fine! I'm not going to die from a cut!" Why did John have to be so protective Sherlock thought. He felt fine. A little dizzy but completely fine.
"Mrs Hudson can you go get the first aid kit out of the bathroom?"
When Mrs Hudson hurried off to get the first aid kit John turned to Sherlock.
"You are going to let me look at that!"
Sherlock realised that he was now in full 'Doctor John Mode' so it was best for everyone in the situation that Sherlock did as he was told.
Sherlock huffed "Fine!"
Mrs Hudson came back with the first aid supplies in her hand and gave them over to John. She stood at the door awkwardly for a moment then did the only thing she could think to do; go make cups of tea for everyone.
John inspected the wound on Sherlocks head, he was fully aware of the detective glaring at him. If looks could kill John would be dead immediately.
"It doesn't seem too deep and the blood is clotting so it doesn't need stitches. You should go to bed."
He applied a piece of gauze to Sherlock's head along with a bandage. Sherlock realised how soft John's hands were. They were strong but gentle and he was disappointed when they disappeared.
When John looked at the detective still glaring at him, with the white bandage around his head, he had to try hard to stop himself from laughing. He looked ridiculous. His hairs was ruffled and sticking up in every direction. The bandage gave him an almost surreal look.
"Something funny?" Sherlock asked with a hint of sarcasm. However in his mind he was already missing John's soft hands.
"No." John couldn't help the grin that appeared on his face when he said this.
Sherlock stood up, aiming to prove to John that he was fine, however it didn't work out like he had hoped. A wave of dizziness hit him and he would have fallen over if John hadn't been there to catch him.
"Not so fine after all are we?" John said mocking Sherlock slightly.
"I am fine! It's nothing. I can walk on my own thank you!" Sherlock pushed John away and started to walk out of John's bedroom and down the stairs.
He was swaying slightly and it was amusing to see the usually graceful detective stagger around like a toddler. However John was right behind him ready to catch him if he fell.
After what seemed like hours they made it to the living room. Sherlock refused John's help and went straight to Mrs Hudson who handed him his tea.
Mrs Hudson couldn't hide the little chuckle that escaped her at the sight of the detective. She stood in the kitchen with John watching as Sherlock stumbled across the room and landed on the sofa heavily.
"He needs to be more careful." Mrs Hudson sighed.
"Yeah he does. I'm really going to worry about him when I move out. He just doesn't look after himself." John shook his head.
Mrs Hudson nodded in agreement.
Sherlock knew that they were talking about him. They need to learn how to be more discreet he thought. He felt his eyelids dropping. He didn't want to fall asleep. Sleeping was boring. He felt someone take the cup of tea out of his hands.
Mrs Hudson found a blanket and gently laid Sherlock down and placed a pillow beneath his head.
Sherlock struggled to keep his eyes open.
"Sherlock just go to sleep yeah. You need it."
So Sherlock did.
John looked down at Sherlock's sleeping form. He looked so peaceful and childlike. Although John would never say it, he loved the man. He knew Sherlock loved him too but not in the way he wanted. He wanted Sherlock and he wanted Sherlock to want him too but he knew that would never happen.
John felt guilty for thinking all of that. Mary was lovely. Everything he wants...but she isn't Sherlock, he thought. I'm not gay! I'm straight and I love Mary! He tried to convince himself. Besides, he was going to propose to her soon so he needed to get Sherlock out of his mind.
Oh John...if only you could see. Thanks for reading! You all know how much I love reviews so...Review! Next chapter will be up soon!