Ah, you know what I just realised? John was supposed to go out with Sarah this episode. That can't happen for his and Sherlock's relationship to work. Oops! Let's just push their relationship to the side… and over this cliff and into the abyss. Good.
This is the reason I'm not going into the case so much as the relationship aspect. I have to fuck everything up to fit the Johnlock in. But it's worth it.
Another note: I do mean six years instead of eight. You'll see what I mean.
Another note, sorry: I tried to keep everything third person limited by Sherlock, but some of John's thoughts and feelings might have slipped in there.
Thank you all so much for sticking with this story :)
For a few months, Sherlock kept to himself more than usual, avoiding every place he knew Sebastian or one of his friends would be. He tried to tell himself he didn't care anymore, and that he didn't need Sebastian to function, but sometimes it hurt too much to even think of him.
He still used, coming into class high as a kite, but he didn't talk enough to have it noticed. He burned through his allowance from Mycroft for morphine and coke, losing more weight than he could spare. Without Sebastian, there was no one to force him to eat, or beat him until he blacked out for a night, so he drifted around the campus as light and pale as a ghost.
It almost wasn't worth living anymore, but he survived, wishing and hoping that Sebastian, even with his flaws, would take him back.
At the very end of his second year, Sebastian cornered him in an empty lecture hall and propositioned him. He accepted, got a good hard fucking over the lectern, and Sebastian went on his way. Sherlock couldn't keep the smile off of his face for some time.
"Here," John murmured, handing Sherlock a cigarette as they walked out of the flat, leaving Dimmock and the rest of the Yard behind. "You look like you need it."
Sherlock couldn't be sure if it was a test or not, but he really didn't need the caress of smoke in his lungs just yet, and he was already sporting two nicotine patches, so he pushed it back into John's hands. "I'm fine."
The doctor's relieved smile confirmed that it was a test. Sherlock was mildly proud of himself. "Good." John straightened his jacket against the cold. "That DI seems like a clot," he said conversationally, gently brushing his arm against Sherlock's as he waved for a cab.
Sherlock hummed in agreement. "Lestrade is much smarter than him, no matter how big an idiot he is." John opened the door for him and he slid inside, hesitating only a moment before telling the cabbie where to go. He wouldn't say he was dreading going to Sebastian, but he definitely wasn't looking forward to it.
"Ta," John replied wryly. "Sebastian is going to be disappointed that his trader is dead, isn't he?"
Pale eyes flickered over him, and then Sherlock looked away. "I hate him," he said, his voice as cool as if he were talking about the weather. "Our murderer needs to change his targets."
John's warm hand found its way into his, holding tightly. "I know enough about him that I hate him as well."
"I couldn't pass up this case," Sherlock began as if he were defending himself. "He needs me for the first time, and I want… I want to…"
"Prove to him that you can do it." John nodded. "Of course, Sherlock. I'm happy to help."
Sherlock chuckled and gave John's hand a squeeze, slipping their joined hands into his pocket. "Where would I be without you?"
The consulting detective had called ahead, asking Sebastian's secretary where he would be at that time—it was unlikely that he would be in his office all day, and Sherlock had gotten a glimpse of his desk planner: meetings all the way down the page.
He and John walked into the restaurant with purpose, Sherlock with slight trepidation. Sebastian was there with some of his coworkers, his sharp canines glinting in the low light. He looked like he was in the middle of a story but Sherlock strode over anyway, his head held high. "It was a threat; that's what the graffiti meant."
Sebastian looked as if he was smiling, but his eyes were hateful. Just as Sherlock remembered. "I'm kind of in a meeting," he said slowly, glancing around at his colleagues. "Can you make an appointment with my secretary?"
"I don't think this can wait. Sorry Sebastian. One of your traders, someone who works in your office, was killed."
"What?" Sebastian asked, not the slightest frown marring his features.
"van Coon," John supplied. "The police are at his flat."
"Killed?" Sebastian repeated. His usual smirk was gone; Sherlock took a perverse pleasure in knowing he made it happen.
"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion." Sherlock's gaze landed on every man at the table before settling back on Sebastian. "Still want to make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?"
The banker looked away from him, loosening his collar, then excused himself from the table and led the way to the restrooms.
Sebastian began to wash his hands, his back to Sherlock and John. "Harrow, Oxford, very bright guy." He looked in the mirror at Sherlock for a moment, his gaze loaded. "Worked in Asia for a while, so…"
"You gave him the Hong Kong accounts," John surmised, one assuming eyebrow raised. Sebastian barely nodded in his direction.
"Lost five million in a single morning," Sebastian continued, "Made it all back a week later. Nerves of steel, though."
John shifted a little, taking in Sherlock's pensive expression, and then looking back at Sebastian. "Who'd want to kill him?"
"We all make enemies."
"You don't all end up with a bullet through your temple," John said. He was immediately followed by the beeping of Sebastian's phone.
"Not usually," Sebastian said, then pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. "Excuse me."
Sherlock remained still, only glancing toward Sebastian's mobile. Even after six years, being in a confined space with Sebastian made him think of blood and drugs and screaming, and he tried to keep as much space as wouldn't be suspicious between them.
John seemed to notice though, his eyes on Sherlock while Sebastian explained. "It's my chairman. The police have been onto him. Apparently they're telling him it was a suicide."
Sherlock had shifted, looking at the floor, but he looked back up at Sebastian's account of the text. "Well they've got it wrong, Sebastian, he was murdered," he insisted, trying to keep his voice level.
Sebastian paused. "Well." He shrugged a bit. "I'm afraid they don't see it like that," he said dismissively.
"Seb!" Sherlock shot back.
"And neither does my boss," Sebastian cut in. They stared at each other for a moment, and it was as if they were back at University: Sebastian, the popular boy who used Sherlock as he pleased, and Sherlock, the forced, abused addict who clung to Sebastian like a lifeline. "I hired you to do a job. Don't get sidetracked."
Sherlock turned to watch him go, his lips pressed together to stop an outburst of insults, feeling as if he was unable to strike back.
"I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards," John murmured sarcastically, recognizing Sherlock's expression for what it was—a ticking time-bomb. Sooner or later, Sherlock was going to get angry, and it would not be pretty.
That night was spent in relative silence. John sat at one end of the sofa, his laptop balanced on the side table, one hand scrolling through the comments on his blog and the other slowly stroking Sherlock's hair, the detective's head in his lap. Occasionally Sherlock would push his nose into John's shirt, making a small sound of discontentment as he thought. John would just rub his thumb across Sherlock's left temple until he calmed again.
"We need to find out what those symbols mean," Sherlock murmured eventually, only mildly startling John. "They're the only thing we have to go on right now."
"I need to sleep," John replied softly. "I have a job interview tomorrow."
Sherlock huffed, the hot breath dampening the fabric of John's shirt. "I told you, use my card."
"I'm not going to rely on your brother's money, Sherlock."
"It's my money! I do get paid for cases, John, it's how I pay half the rent."
John twirled a lock of Sherlock's hair around his finger. "I'm not going to rely on your money either. How am I to pay my half?"
"Pension."
"It's not enough."
Sherlock blinked a few times, and then turned over to stare at the doctor. "Your army pension isn't enough to pay for half of our rent? Even with Mrs. Hudson knocking off a couple hundred quid? How did you stay in your other flat?"
"I—" Sherlock could tell John was holding something back, but he didn't push. John had been patient with him and he would return the favour. "I was used to army rations, so I didn't need that much food. It was a small flat, so I didn't have to spend that much on electricity…" He went quiet again.
Sherlock sat up and pressed his lips to John's, a chaste kiss, before pulling back and searching John's eyes. "It's not going to happen again," he murmured.
John didn't seem to have a reply to that, cupping Sherlock's pale face in his hand to bring him forward for another kiss. They were innocent brushes of lips for a while, neither one of them willing to push the other, but John eventually took charge, ever-so-gently slipping his tongue into Sherlock's mouth and coaxing his into play.
Sherlock pulled back after only a few minutes, his cheeks red with half embarrassment and half arousal. "John, that—"
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, I should have asked."
"No, it was fine." He cleared his throat, his face going redder. "It was good."
John smiled crookedly at him. "A bit of necking on the sofa? We can do that any time you want, Sherlock." He stood up, snapping his laptop closed and going to put out the fire in the fireplace. "Except for right now. I do want that job."
Sherlock watched him putter around, two fingers resting on his bottom lip. "Sure. I'll be… researching." John leaned down to peck his forehead before making his way upstairs for bed.
Sherlock's eyes closed and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. It had taken him half a decade, but he did find someone who wanted him back. Sebastian was wrong and it had never felt so good to know.
Thank you for reading and please review!
