You might not like me very much for this chapter but please bear with me this story will have a happy ending:)
I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but I'd written it and didn't see any reason to delay so here ya go!
Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever
Before he spoke, Sherlock seemed to realise that his expression wasn't in it's normal indifferent mask and schooled it quickly,
"I didn't need any help with him, I handled it just fine." Sherlock spoke with his usual arrogance but John felt a pang of hurt at his words; did Sherlock not need him at all?
"No John, don't look like that. I didn't need help but I knew you would be there just in case I did, you always are. This-" Sherlock tried to raise his arm and then thought better of it and just pointed to it instead, "this is nothing! It's only transport, I've told you that before, what does it matter if I get hurt so long as the case is solved."
He knew Sherlock thought his body was transport but it was the way he said it that riled John, he could feel himself becoming angry and he wasn't so reserved now that Sherlock had stopped looking like a kicked puppy.
"Sherlock. You have to understand that I don't like seeing you hurt, you see everything, you must see that. But still you run off by yourself after dangerous people, for God's sake, you went after Moriarty alone and nearly got yourself blown up." John would never forget the horror he had felt when he had woken up with the dead weight of Sherlock's body draped over his legs after the bomb had blown.
"You refuse to ever let anyone help you and sometimes it makes me wonder if you really need me at all. You've said it yourself that Molly is a capable mortician so what could you possibly need me for. I do all of the housework, I run all sorts of stupid errands for you and what do I ever get in return? Nothing, yes my limp is gone but I would have eventually fixed that myself but I get nothing from this, you do not appreciate anything that I do and you demean me regularly. Anyone else would have left by now but I stayed. God knows why!"
John was breathing heavily and was staring straight into Sherlock's eyes, it was true that Sherlock didn't really acknowledge him but if he had not met Sherlock, he would probably be dead right now. He had been in such a bad place and Sherlock had saved him from making a truly foolish decision.
It was too late to take it back now, no matter how much he wanted to because Sherlock had frozen. His pale grey eyes were focused totally on John and he didn't like what he saw there, Sherlock looked broken, like John had said he was never allowed to take another case again. However then Sherlock's face cleared and became blank, his eyes hardened and the look in them almost made John flinch.
He prepared himself for the onslaught of hurtful comments that were bound to come his way but was still surprised by how cold Sherlock sounded, "You know what John, for once, you're actually right about something. I don't need you. I don't need your medical expertise or you following me around everywhere trying to keep me safe, I managed fine before and I would manage fine again if you left so really it's up to you. If you think you can make your own way then please by all means move out."
There it was. Sherlock had never needed him, never wanted his help, when he'd asked John to come with him for the Study in Pink, he had probably just wanted to show off and John had been convenient. The problem was, he had no idea what to do now. He had wanted to provoke Sherlock enough that he would tell John how he felt but he had never thought about what he would do if it turned out Sherlock didn't want him. It seemed like the only thing he could do was leave and try to maintain his dignity, he didn't want to leave but he had clearly been delusional when he thought they were friends.
"Right, okay then. I'll just go pack then shall I?" John was impressed with how steady his voice was and slowly got to his feet from where he had been perched on a kitchen chair. As soon as he stood though, he felt a dull ache start up in his leg, a worryingly familiar ache. He tried to ignore it as he took a step towards his room but couldn't and his leg almost buckled, tears of sadness, heartache and frustration started to burn the backs of his eyes but he kept his face stoic as he slowly limped his way to the stairs.
John could feel eyes on the back of his neck and had only one thought, 'I was warned about you, I never once thought I should have listened. Until now.'
Please review I would very much appreciate the feedback, this is my first story after all and I don't how well it's going unless you tell me :)