So here is the next chapter finally! I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 4
After a moment, John realized he was still desperately hanging on to Sherlock, and quickly pulled away. He glanced down at the sidewalk and murmured a quiet apology knowing how Sherlock felt about being touched and all.
There was an awkward silence before John broke it, "I um, I was heading down to the corner store. Care to join me?" Sherlock nodded a little and murmured, "Why not."
He sighed a little and as he walked with John he spoke quietly to avoid attention, "Can we go back to your flat when we're done? We need to talk John."
John glanced over at the taller man and nodded as they walked, "What about exactly?" He stuffed his hands in his coat jacket and stared at his feet as they walked, glancing up periodically.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and said with a low voice, "You know exactly what we need to talk about John." He glanced down at the doctor and watched him a little. John looked tired, very tired. Not just physically either, mentally, emotionally. Sherlock bit at his lip and looked away from John. He didn't think that what he had done, would have hurt John this much.
After the trip to corner store John and Sherlock came back to the flat, and it wasn't until he was at the door that John realized, Greg was still there. He was internally cursing himself as he stood at the door, gripping at the doorknob.
"John? Are you going to let us in?" Sherlock cocked his head to the side curiously, watching the shorter man.
"Uh yeah. Sorry." John twisted the doorknob pushing it open. He let Sherlock go in first and followed behind him, bags in hand. He glanced around the small sitting room and looked into the kitchen and thought, Alright, where is he. Where is Greg?
John felt Sherlock's eyes on him. He was reading him, he was knew something was going on, and Sherlock was trying to figure it out. John walked into the kitchen setting the bags on the table and taking his jacket off. He glanced over at Sherlock as he eyed the small flat, taking his scarf off along with his coat. "Uhm please, make yourself at home."
John started emptying the bags and stuck a carton of milk in the fridge. He pulled some pastries from the bag, and glanced at Sherlock, "Want some coffee or tea?"
Sherlock sat at the small table, "Tea's fine, thank you." John just nodded and started to heat up a kettle of water and stared down at the counter top thinking, why...why did he have to show up now. It's one thing if he had a woman in his apartment, but no. He had another man. And not just another man, Greg.
John let his shoulders slump as he heard footsteps walking through the flat, "Hey, John. Didn't realize you were ba..." Greg stopped mid sentence and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the tall, brunette sitting at the kitchen table.
Closing his eyes, John sighed, and turned around and saw Greg gawking at Sherlock and Sherlock staring back. John watched two stare at each other for a moment and the awkward silence.
"You," Greg pointed at Sherlock, "you're supposed to be dead. Wha-." John stayed silent and watched the two and just realized, Greg wasn't wearing a shirt, which made things way more uncomfortable.
John cleared his throat a little and they both looked over at him. "Um, Greg." John tugged on his own shirt, hoping to hint towards Greg to put a shirt on. Sherlock looked at Greg out of the corner of his eyes, but didn't make eye contact. Greg blushed a little and went back to John's room where he left his shirt.
John blushed and buried his face in the palms of his hands and flinched a little as the kettle whistled. He turned around and turned off the burner and took the kettle off. He could feel Sherlock's eyes burning into the back of his head.
"So, you and Greg huh?" Sherlock asked casually, he frowned a little knowing John wasn't looking and felt his chest tighten. He bit his lip a little and thought he felt, jealous, at the thought of John and Greg together. John was his flatmate, John was his friend, but he couldn't help but feel like he brought this upon himself.
John set down a cup of tea in front of Sherlock and sat across from him and had his own cup. "Oh, God no. It's nothing like that Sherlock." John started to panic and defend himself. He wasn't even sure what last night was.
"He normally walks around your flat topless and has breakfast with you then? You can't honestly think that I don't know that something happened between you two last night. You can almost cut the tension with a knife." Sherlock stared at John across the table and deduced what he saw.
John sighed slight frustrated, "No he doesn't and there is nothing going on between us Sherlock. I was having...trouble, yesterday, and I asked him to stop by." He hadn't heard Greg come back in, and he was standing behind Sherlock.
"Nothing going on between us huh? Then what was that last night?" Greg crossed his arms over his chest and stared down John. Sherlock almost glared at John across the table waiting for a response.
"Greg, I just, I mean, yes something happened, but, it just," John ran his fingers through his hair and squeezed his eyes closed, "fuck. Greg, yes it was something but honestly.."
Greg didn't let him finish, he took a few steps closer to John and pointed at John as Sherlock stared, "You text me yesterday and told me that you needed me. I come here, I comfort you because this, moron," Greg points at Sherlock, "was a selfish bastard and left you alone! So I come here and comfort you the best I can. I don't even think he realizes how attached to you him you had become. I don't even think it registers, how hurt he made you feel by leaving you here like this and faking his death John!"
Greg moved closer and was starting to yell. John bit at his lip and looked over at Sherlock who had begun to look furious. "He has no fucking clue how hurt he made you and now he just turns up on your steps, and you bring him in and accept him, like nothing happened." Greg turned and pointed at Sherlock, "You, you have no idea what you did to him! He doesn't work any more, he doesn't see anyone, God knows how often he sleeps. Hell if he does sleep, it's not well, he's told me about the nightmares and the depression! You, have, no, fucking clue!"
Sherlock stood and stared Greg in the eyes and tensed, speaking in a low and threatening voice, "Yes. I do know what I've done to him. Do not for one minute tell me what I do or do not know! I came back, for John, I did what I did, for John!" Sherlock stepped closer, their chests almost touching, and continued, "I was protecting my one friend, I did what I had to do! He may not know it, but I care for him, like I never jave for someone else! So do not be so ignorant and say, I don't know what I've done or that I don't care!"
The two of them stared each other down, if looks could kill, they'd both be dead in the middle of John's kitchen. "Further more, you should not be so bold and assume you know how one feels about another! You weren't there the day I jumped, you weren't there when I talked to John over the phone," Sherlock's voice got louder and started talking through gritted teeth, "and you were certainly not there as I watched and heard him as I broke his heart over the phone! If I didn't have to do that for him, to protect him, I wouldn't have. If I didn't have to do that, you wouldn't be in this bloody flat getting off with my friend!"
John's face reddened and buried his face in his palms. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and he didn't know how to handle what was going on. He felt tears burn his eyes as he kept he face in his hands. He just wanted this to stop he just wanted everything back the way it was before Sherlock jumped. Back at 221 B Baker Street, solving crimes and writing a blog about them.
God, he hasn't touched that blog in months, hell after that one visit to his therapist, he stopped going after. He didn't see the point, it wasn't helping with his depression after Sherlock jumped, it didn't help with his 'ptsd' either. It was suppose to help him adjust back to civilian life, but it wasn't helping.
John kept his face buried in his palms and kept listening to the voices in his kitchen.
After the last comment that Sherlock made, Greg was beyond upset. He clenched his hands tight into fists and stared back at Sherlock. He was fighting off the urge to punch the guy in the face. "If you were alive then why not come back for John sooner huh?! Why the fuck did you wait so long?! The poor guy has moped around his flat for months, because you decided you had more important things to attend to!"
Greg took a step to the side and stuck a hand out in John's direction, "Fucking look at him! He's exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally! I sat here in his fucking kitchen for an hour, holding him because he was crying! He was fucking bawling his heart out because you left him! He thought you didn't fucking care, and you know what?! I did get off with your friend! He fucking loved it too!"
John picked up his head quick and saw the heartbreak in Sherlock's face, but it was only brief and then taken over with anger. Sherlock shifted in his spot and glanced down at John, who then felt two inches high. John felt guilty, not sure why, but the way Sherlock had just looked at him and the way Greg had just told him that, made him feel like he had cheated on Sherlock.
Greg nodded and stared at Sherlock. It felt good to hold something over the bastard's head. When he saw Sherlock get even more angry, he kept going, "What's wrong, Sherlock? Jealous that I sucked John's cock and got him off?" Greg took a step closer to Sherlock and stared up at him, "I was able to get him to stop crying and stop thinking about you last night. I had been a better friend to him, than you have in some time."
John sat there in his chair stunned unsure what to do. Each bash that came out of the men's mouths in that kitchen would break his heart even more.
All Sherlock could think, You don't even know. You know nothing of what I had to go through, what I had to do to protect John. I did it for John, all of what I did, was for John. He felt his back stiffen when Greg brought up that he got John off, and started to feel even more protective of his blogger. Sherlock tightened his fists and what really did it for him was Greg accusing him of being a better friend to John than himself.
Not even thinking, he just reacted and punched Greg in the jaw, and was soon tackled to the floor by the Detective Inspector. Greg got a few punches in as they wrestled on the floor and Sherlock fought back.
John stood up quick and tried to get their attention, "Guys! That's enough!"
The two on the floor ignored him and kept wrestling and fighting each other.
John strode over to Sherlock and Greg and yelled at the two of them, "I said, that's enough for fucking Christ's sake! How old are you two!? You've got to be fucking kidding me?!"
Neither of them stopped and kept grunting, and cursing at each other. John sighed a little watching the two of them and limped a little to his room and pulled his gun from his dresser. He came back and opened up a window in the sitting room and shot off two rounds out the window.
Sherlock and Greg froze and looked over at John standing at the window, "Now that I have your fucking attention, and now the police!" John closed the window and put the safety back on his gun. He set his gun down and stared at the two men on the floor, battered and bruised.
"Both of you, out, now," John pointed at the door to his flat and stared at them seriously, but neither of them left. They stood up and smoothed out their clothing and stared at John with shock.
"John, please. I really think we should talk," Sherlock stated and straightened his back a little. Greg glanced at Sherlock and rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
"Please just. Leave both of you, I need time to think." John ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes sighing.
Greg and Sherlock remained silent and nodded a little. Greg turned and left the flat, Sherlock however, stood in front of John and hugged him gently whispering, "I'm so sorry I hurt you. When you're ready, you have my number."
And with that, Sherlock let go of John, grabbing his coat and scarf, and left.
Well then! Wasn't that a buttload of fun and angst! Thanks for reading if you've stuck around this long! I appreciate hearing from you guys soo reviews are very much so welcomed! It's what fuels me!
