Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Also, violence in this chapter.


A/N: This was cowritten with the brilliant writer par-0x-ysm who can be found on tumblr. I wrote as John and she wrote as Sherlock. Bolded words are meant to be texts. The perspectives do change back and forth.


"With power comes the abuse of power."
-Judd Rose


John woke up to an empty bed. "Sherlock?" John asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he searched around for his mate. He fumbled with the covers, standing up to see no one in sight. John furrowed his eyebrows and ran his hand through his messy hair before reaching for his phone lying on top of Sherlock's bed table. He typed in a text and sent it to Sherlock.

[To Sherlock] Hey, where are you? -JW


Sherlock sat on the roof, smoking and sending smoke rings into the sky. When his phone buzzed he quickly checked it, shifting it to the other hand.

[To John] On the roof. SH

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and carried on smoking, watching the smoke trails hover in front of him.


John climbed the stairs, pushing the door open to the roof. Sherlock was sitting at the far end of the roof, his legs hanging over the ledge. John walked over and sat down next to Sherlock. John observed as the sky transitioned from day to night. The fringes of sunlight were in the distance, and up high in the sky was the faint outline of the moon. Swirls of pink collided with blue midway. John glanced over at Sherlock and frowned as he watched him blow puffs and rings of smoke into the air. "You're smoking again." John commented.

"Yes, thank you. I didn't notice." Sherlock muttered sarcastically, flicking ash over the edge of the building and watching it with distaste. He sighed and leant back, knees pointing towards the sky. "It's very fragile." Sherlock commented, licking his lips and watching the smoke from his cigarette float upwards. "I could jump off this building right now, and I'd never have to hurt again." He turned to John with a wistful smile. "Wouldn't have to deal with this crap."

John rolled his eyes. If this was any other day, he would have taken Sherlock's cigarette and thrown it right off the roof. However, considering all that had happened, John decided to let it slide this once. John frowned at Sherlock's words. I could jump off this building right now, and I'd never have to hurt again. John leaned over the edge, staring at the hard pavement far below. He was terribly frightened at the implications of Sherlock's sentence. Life was indeed such a fragile thing, and the fact that it was so easily lost, so far out of his reach, made John feel very, very tiny. "And you would leave me behind to deal with the aftermath?" He whispered, his voice small, as he played with the strings on his shoes. "You wouldn't be so cruel, would you, Sherlock?"

Sherlock swallowed and looked at John, searching John's face for a hint of playfulness. But he was serious. Sherlock quickly moved closer to John and lent against him, gently shaking his head. "No, I would never leave you. I promise." He flicked the cigarette butt off the edge of the building and reached for John's hand. "I'm sorry." He whispered, watching John's face. He lent forward and quickly kissed John's forehead. "I'm sorry."

John gave Sherlock a sad smile, his fingers intertwining with Sherlock's. He stared wistfully into the sky, where the morning rays had overtaken the darkness. The wind whispered softly into John's ears, ruffling his hair gently as it made its way past. Down below, people were milling about, beginning to make their way out of the dorms and towards their first class. John stood up, his hands slipping from Sherlock's. "We should be making our way to our first class, yeah?"

Sherlock nodded and bit his lip, standing up as well. "Do you think they can see us from down there? We must seem so small." Sherlock glanced to John next to him, lent forwards and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "They must think we're so insignificant, and we think them the same." Sherlock paused and looked back over the edge. "What makes you mean so much to me? Why aren't you like them?" He didn't mean to sound so harsh about it, but he was genuinely unsure. He didn't understand it at all, and he'd been trying to figure it out. Chemistry and Biology didn't tell him anything, and he was starting to wonder if there was any type of science behind it at all.

"I don't know, Sherlock." John replied quietly as he mulled over Sherlock's questions. "I don't know if that is something I can answer. I don't know if there is any one that can answer that. Maybe it's just one of those questions in life that we will never have an explanation for." He looked over the edge. From this height, everyone looked the same: tiny colored dots in an expanse of green and grey. John marveled at this sight. In this sea of people, in this world where John was one insignificant star in a sky of millions, he had somehow come to form a connection with the brightest star of them all. John didn't believe in God; he especially didn't believe in miracles. But with Sherlock standing beside him, perhaps, John thought, it was something worth changing his beliefs for, because there was no way that this, what Sherlock and John had, wasn't a miracle. "All I know, Sherlock, is that I'm glad to have met you."

Sherlock smiled, biting his lip and turning to John. He took his hand and squeezed gently. "I'm glad I met you too." He leant in closer to John and closed his eyes. He had no idea what he would have done if he had never met John, he would probably be on the concrete below, a mess to clear up. He supposed, even alive, he still was. But at least someone was willing to try and make him clean again. Sherlock stepped away from the edge and pulled John with him. "Time to go I think." Sherlock mumbled, suddenly very scared of the edge of the building. "Class." He reminded John gently.

"Right," John checked his phone for the time. His eyes widened. "Bloody hell. We're going to be late, Sherlock! First period starts in a minute. Run?" he asked, his lips quirking into a grin.

Sherlock suddenly had an idea. "I'll beat you." He said playfully, already rushing down the steps and sliding through the window. "First one there gets a prize." He yelled, grabbing his clothes and shoving them on. He chucked John's proper clothes across the room, childishly pushing his bag under the bed and laughing as he tried to put his shoes on.

"What!" John shouted, laughing, as he chased after Sherlock. "That's completely unfair!" he grabbed Sherlock's other shoe and threw it across the room, before scrambling for his clothes. John threw off the clothes he was wearing, pulling on his shirt, and struggling to put his feet through his pants with his shoes on. "Damn it." John cried out, as he slipped and fell flat on the floor. "Jesus, Sherlock, you sodding cheater." he pouted as he watched Sherlock make for his shoe. John got back up, zipping up his pants, before fumbling for his bag underneath the bed.

Sherlock laughed and got his shoe, pushing John forward onto the bed and grabbing his bag. He managed to pull his sweater on and grabbed John's shoes. He bolted to the door, wrestling with the handle and giggling. "I'm not cheating, I'm winning." He yanked open the door and threw John's shoes to the other side of the hall, dashing down the other way and hitting the elevator button.

John pushed himself off of the bed, slinging his bag over his back before padding barefoot into the hall. At the end of the hallway were his shoes. He let out a groan before running over to slip them on. If John waited for the elevator, there was no way he would win against Sherlock. Stairs, it was. John smiled. He wasn't the captain of the rugby team, swim team, and part of the track team for nothing. John pushed open the doors to the stairs and began sprinting his way down.


The elevator doors opened, and Sherlock ran out. He sprinted towards C block, where his next class was and tried to keep an eye on where John was. When he didn't see him, he quickly detoured, cutting through two buildings to get to the entrance quicker. Sherlock slowed down as he turned the corner, only to walk straight into someone. "Sorry!" He said, reaching to steady himself. The person he walked into grabbed him.

"There you are." A voice Sherlock recognised murmured, pushing him against the wall. "I thought you were avoiding me."


John pushed open the doors, dashing outside but slowing down when Sherlock was nowhere in sight. The courtyard was empty, save for John. Sherlock was probably already three-quarters of the way to class. "Bloody hell." John chuckled. "That git is faster than I thought." He began running towards C block to join Sherlock in their first class together.


Sherlock struggled slightly, but that only caused Seb to push him harder against the brick. "You really think I'm stupid?" He hissed, mouth close to Sherlock's ear. "What. Do. You. Take. Me. For?" He spat, emphasis each word with a shove. Sherlock tried to slide under his arm and out into the courtyard.

"Let me go." Sherlock choked out, pushing himself off the wall and struggling. Seb laughed harshly, and struck Sherlock across the face with the back of his hand.

"Not until I'm done."


John opened the door to the classroom, and stepped in. Class had just begun and the students had been sectioned off into groups, chatter and laughter filling the air. John looked around, scanning the heads of every student, but he did not see Sherlock anywhere.

"John, got pissed last night, did ya?" John turned to his side to see Lawrence, his friend and fellow rugby teammate come up to him. "You're late. That's a first."

"No mate, I actually didn't."

"You're a bloody liar." Lawrence laughed, elbowing John before throwing his hands over John's shoulder. "Better invite me next time, yeah?"

"Sure thing." John shrugged, unable to hold his attention on Lawrence. He felt a sliver of worry worm its way into his mind. Where was Sherlock? He looked over the room again, catching his friend's attention.

"Ya lookin' for someone?" Lawrence raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, have you seen Sherlock?" John asked, turning to his friend. Lawrence shook his head in reply.

"No, haven't seen him at all this morning."

"Shit." John's eyes widened with realization. He yanked the door open and sprinted out of the classroom. If his intuition was right... Sherlock was in danger. He needed to find him now.


Sherlock winced almost audibly as Seb hit him, wheezing a little when he hit him in the stomach. "Why are you doing this?" Sherlock whimpered, trying to turn away.

"Because you were with John last night weren't you?" Seb murmured deeply, almost caressing Sherlock's collarbone before he smacked down on it. Sherlock collapsed against the wall and grimaced in pain. Sherlock didn't know what to do, so he just let Seb hit him, hoping he'd grow tired and leave him alone.


John heard the sounds of struggle behind one of the school buildings and immediately made a sprint towards the noise. As he got closer, he could hear the quiet sounds of conversation. Sherlock's quiet voice drifted towards him before it started to get violent.

Fuck. He could only hope he wasn't too late. John turned the corner to see a tall, blonde-haired bloke shoving Sherlock against the wall and throwing punches into him. Sherlock was curled defensively against the wall, his arms taking the brunt of the blows and trying ineffectively to ward off the stronger boy's ruthless hits. Sebastian. John's fury fuelled every thought, propelled every step, and the only thing John was focused on was protecting Sherlock.

"You fucker, get off of him!" John hurled himself at Sebastian, knocking the taller boy into the ground. Sebastian's head collided painfully with the cement, a loud crack snapping through the air. Then John punched, bone colliding with bone.

"Don't-" And punched again.

"You-" And again.

"Ever-" Again.

"Touch-" Again.

"Him-" Again.

"Like-" Again.

"That-" John stood up, giving the bloodied boy a deadly look. "Ever again. Do you hear me, you piece of shit? If I see you near him, next time, I might not be able to stop." John hissed, his hands gripping Sebastian's shirt tightly.

Sherlock was still against the wall clutching his collar bone and trying not to cry. He was shaking, unable to form words. He watched in fear, waiting for Seb to get up and start hurting John instead. When he didn't get up, Sherlock quickly sunk to the floor, head in his hands. He swallowed loudly and reached for John, wanting to thank him but not finding the words. Sherlock bit his lip and looked up at John, looking in his eyes, hoping he understood.

John watched Sebastian, his eyes never leaving the boy until he had gotten up and limped out of sight. John immediately ran over to Sherlock, his hands cradling his friend. "Oh Sherlock!" John cried, his eyes frantically scanning over Sherlock's body. Sherlock's arms was littered with fresh bruises, his lip was split and bleeding profusely, and his collarbone was most likely broken by the way Sherlock was clutching at it. John's forehead furrowed, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's cheek. "I'm so sorry for being late." John whispered. He looked into Sherlock's soft grey eyes and frowned. "I'm sorry." he repeated.

Sherlock shook his head, words still having difficulty forming. He lent his head against John's shoulder and closed his eyes. "It hurts." He mumbled, still holding his collar bone. His head was starting to spin dangerously and he held John tightly. "Ow." He mumbled, black starting to creep around the edges of his vision. The adrenaline was wearing off, and Sherlock was starting to feel the pain. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on John's face, searching for anything in his face. Sherlock was scared, even through the fear that Seb induced, and the pain. He was scared. Scared John would leave now he saw him at his worst, scared that now John had seen it with his own eyes he wouldn't want to keep saving him. Sherlock bit his lip to stop it wobbling and blinked quickly, pushing away tears that were starting to form.

John ran his hands through Sherlock's hair soothingly. Sherlock's face was contorted with pain, his jaw clenched painfully, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay awake. If only John had come faster. He was always late. Always. And now Sherlock was in this position again.

John shuddered and let out a shaky breath. What would have happened if he came too late? He didn't want to think about the possibilities. John looked back down at Sherlock, his arm wrapping gently around Sherlock. "You can close your eyes," John whispered, as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Sherlock's forehead. "You're safe now." John pulled out his phone, dialing the emergency number before he looked down at Sherlock. John watched as Sherlock's eyes slowly shut, his breathing evening out. John spoke. And then he waited.

It was a few minutes before John heard the sounds of sirens fill the air and the steps of people rushing over to him.


A/N: Another chapter done! Mollie also wrote as Seb in this chapter. Thanks for the favorites and follows and much appreciation to KittiBell and innenlebenaussenwelt for the reviews! Please don't forget to leave a review and let Mollie and I know what you think of the chapter! :) Virtual cookies to all that do!

-omnomchocolate