Hello all. Happy Tuesday. Apologies for not updating this weekend. We were both incredibly busy driving all over the state. MJCF leaves tomorrow afternoon (sob sob) and that's coincidentally also the day I go back to work. It will be a sad day all around.
MJCF: Sherlock
Me: Greg
Warnings for this chapter: Sherlock has a wet dream about Greg, feels, Sherstrade feels, daddy!Greg (NOT AGE PLAY), and a bit of angsty stuff.
Sherlock yawned loudly. 'Tired. Are we almost there, Greggy?'
'I was gonna stop at Tesco's first, but I suppose we can find a hotel first and go shopping later.' He drove around for a bit until he found a hotel far away from Myc's mansion. He parked the car in the lot and went inside to get them a room. Once he'd been given the keys, he went back outside and hoisted the sleeping Sherlock up and carried him in, ignoring the strange looks he got from the people at the bar. He carried Sherlock up to their room and laid him down on the bed, taking his shoes and jacket off and tucking him in. He went back out to the car and grabbed their things, boxes of pastries included. He stayed up, watching Sherlock sleep, and ate a couple small cakes while he waited for Sherlock to wake.
Sherlock whimpered and shook in his sleep. 'Greggy!' He cried out for the nice man. 'Greggy, I need you!' His dream started out as a horrible nightmare with Old Croft getting angry. It swiftly changed to a different scene. 'Oh god, Greggy! Mmm!' His hips jerked upwards in his sleep and his body turned bright red. 'Gah! Greggy!'
Greg groaned but made no move toward Sherlock. He needed to work through that wet dream on his own. He wasn't about to make it worse with his presence. He decided a cold shower was in order, so he got up and moved to the bathroom, turning the water on icy cold and stripping quickly before standing beneath the freezing water.
Sherlock felt sticky again but the dreams were now gone. He slept on peacefully in a dreamless sleep.
Greg emerged from the shower freezing cold but refreshed. Sherlock was fast asleep again. Thank god. If he was gonna be having erotic dreams Greg wasn't gonna risk sharing a bed with him. He arranged time off work, citing a family emergency, but said he would be back Monday. No questions were asked. He fell asleep hunched over the table, snoring softly. He knew his back was going to kill him later but he didn't care. He didn't want to risk molesting Sherlock in his sleep.
Sherlock cracked open an eye and glanced across to the sleeping Greggy. He didn't look at all comfortable. Sherlock rolled from the bed and padded over to him. He slid an arm around Greggy's waist and levered him up. He'd discovered he was surprisingly strong for an eight year old. He plopped Greggy down on the bed and crawled in beside him, pulling the covers over them.
...::-::…
Greg woke a few hours later, sprawled on his back in the bed. What the hell? How had he gotten here? He glanced down and noticed Sherlock had curled possessively around him, head on his chest, arm around his waist, and a leg draped over his own. He groaned slightly but didn't budge. He was far too comfortable and exhausted to move. So he let his head fall back against the pillow and fell back into a dreamless sleep.
Sherlock awoke fully a good few hours later. He cuddled Greggy tighter and kissed his cheek.
'Greggy,' he whispered. 'I wuvv you.'
Greg groaned something in reply and let out a loud snore. He vaguely wondered what time it was but he fell back asleep before he could check.
'Greggy?' Sherlock whined. He rubbed himself against Greggy frantically. 'Greggy, wake up.'
'Mmm. Sh'lock? Whuz wrong?' Greg mumbled, yawning widely.
Sherlock sighed and rolled away from Greggy. 'Nothing. It doesn't matter.'
'Didn't sound like nuthin a second ago.' He turned to Sherlock and wrapped him up in a soft hug. 'Tell me what's going on.'
'It really doesn't matter. I just wanted to ask you why you constantly do something to me. I... just don't understand it.' Sherlock clenched his legs together, hiding the lump that had grown there.
Oh good god. Please no. Greg swallowed and moved away slightly.
'I'm certain it isn't me. It's your growing body changing and telling you what's happening. It's perfectly normal for you to experience these things at your age. I went through it too. But my dad told me a trick that's helped me a lot in the past, and I'm gonna tell it to you now.'
He took a deep breath before continuing. 'To get rid of the lump in your trousers, try thinking of the ickiest thing imaginable. Think about it so hard and for so long that there isn't a lump anymore. Or, if that doesn't work, because sometimes it won't, take a very cold shower or bath.'
Sherlock shook his head. 'I don't want to think of the ickiest thing imaginable. You have no idea how much that would hurt. Some of the things in my mind, Greggy... they aren't nice. They're terrifying.'
'A cold shower then. Plus you should clean yourself up. You're all sticky from that dream I heard you having.'
Sherlock blushed and curled in on himself. 'Sorry, Greggy. It won't happen again. Promise.'
'It's hard to control your dreams, Sherlock. It's fine. But trust me when I say your dreams aren't about me affecting you, it's your growing body. Now go take a shower. I'll get a few pastries out for ya.'
Sherlock scrabbled from the bed and hurried into the bathroom, his head hung in embarrassment. He quickly switched the shower on and hopped on in.
Greg hummed and rolled back over, trying not to fall back asleep. Further inspection revealed it to be just around midnight. Damn. He'd slept the night away. Great. Now he'd have to get up and take Sherlock out to Tesco's for some activities to keep him occupied. Wait... Was Tesco's even open twenty four hours? His sleep muddled brain wasn't allowing him to think properly. He groaned and got up, managed to put a box of pastries on the table for Sherlock, and then promptly plopped back onto the bed. He was too damn tired to stay up. He'd need coffee. And soon.
Sherlock shivered under the cold spray. It was a good kind of cold though. It calmed him and made his body behave itself. Once the shivering became too much he stepped out of the shower and turned the water off. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He glared at his reflection in the mirror right above the sink. It took every ounce of concentration in his eight year old mind to not lash out at the man staring back at him. Instead he turned and all but ran back into the room where Greggy was already falling back asleep. Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed, a frown driven into his features.
'Am I mad, Greggy? Am I crazy?'
'Mmm?' Greg cracked an eye open and looked at Sherlock, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist. 'No. I dun think ya crazy. Why do ya think ya are?'
'Cus, look at me Greggy,' Sherlock whispered. 'I'm so... wrong.'
'No, you're not,' Greg assured him. 'You aren't wrong, or a freak, or whatever else you think you are. You're a smart boy who's just had bad things done to him. But I'm not gonna let that happen anymore.'
'I don't understand my life. It's... confusing. And sometimes I feel like I've lived another life. That I was someone else. Is that silly?'
No. Not at all. Because you're the mind of a little boy in the body of a grown man. And he live and he loved and he lost everything. And I'm so sorry.
Instead of saying that, Greg merely shrugged and clasped one of Sherlock's hands. 'Yes, you silly boy. It's quite silly. I often feel that way, but then I realise I just had such a vivid dream that it all felt so real. You're not mad, you're growing. And it's perfectly normal to feel the way you do.'
'Don't do that. Don't lie to me, please. I don't like it when grown-ups lie. Just tell me the truth.'
Greg swallowed. 'I... I can't. You'd never believe me. And you'd leave again.'
'Try me, Greggy. Please?'
Greg sighed and went to grab his wallet. He pulled an old photo out of it and handed it to Sherlock. It was a shot of him and John. It was a stupid thing he'd taken while the three of them were investigating the Hound at Baskerville, taken outside the vegetarian bed and breakfast where they were all staying. And, as an added bonus, Sherlock was actually smiling in it. He didn't say anything at first, just let Sherlock look at it and absorb it.
Sherlock stroked the picture and tears swelled in his eyes. 'Nice man. Saw him at Tesco's once. He walked away from me. He's always out of my reach. He's always in my dreams. I carry him in my heart.'
'His name is John Watson. He's a doctor over at Bart's. You two... Well, at first you merely lived together. He was a great friend to you. And... he loved you. Not like I love you, mind you. He loved you in the way I love Myc. He wanted to marry you.'
'What happened?' Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'Why didn't we... I... what?'
'You... How do I explain this?' Greg paused and sat up. 'Before the bad man hurt you, you were a consulting detective. You helped the Yard solve complicated cases, but you helped me most often. You worked alone for five years until John came into the picture. He was a soldier in Afghanistan who had been injured and sent home. He became your partner and he helped you solve crimes. Then, and I'm not exactly sure when, you two fell in love and became a couple.
'But there was this man, a very, very bad man, worse than the man who hurt you, and he wanted Sherlock to stop investigating because he kept solving everything. He threatened and hurt you two quite often, until he finally got what he wanted. He made you kill yourself in order to save the three people you cared about most in the world. John, me, and your landlady.
'But you didn't kill yourself, seeing as you're right here in front of me. You faked your death to go after the man and stop him from committing more crimes. But you came back with the mentality of your five-year-old self. You're a child in the body of a grown man.'
He looked at Sherlock to gauge his reaction, swallowing thickly. He could react in any number of ways. Rage, fear, confusion, sorrow, or all of them at once. Greg just couldn't tell what Sherlock was thinking as he took in all that information.
Sherlock blinked. He didn't feel anger. He just felt numb. 'This explains a lot.' He laughed, though it held no humour. 'I am mad! Utterly mad! That's what he says. The voice inside my head.'
'Voice?' Now Greg was a little concerned. 'What voice?'
'It must be my older self trying to break through.'
'He's broken through a few times,' Greg admitted. 'Most recently before we left. I was crying because he said he didn't want to come back. And I miss him. He was a good man and a really great friend. He could just be a bit of a show off.'
'He wasn't showing off then,' Sherlock said softly. 'He really doesn't want to return. I can't hear him anymore.'
Greg sniffled and wiped at his eyes. So Sherlock would really leave? Just like that? Damn it all to hell! Myc! You utter bastard! This is your fault!
'I believe he's deleted himself,' Sherlock whispered. 'I'm sorry.'
'Deleted himself?' Greg choked out. 'Is that... Can he... No. Please no. I can't... I can't lose him again. No.'
'Blame Old Croft. He put my older self through so much... sadness. Maybe he just doesn't want to deal with him. Cus he's a monster.'
'But he can stay away from him!' Greg cried, tears running down his cheeks. 'He and John can get back together and heal and go away, far away from here and be happy! Is there a way to undelete things? Please! I just... He can't leave like this. It's unfair to everyone, but you especially.'
'From my understanding it's impossible to undelete things. Well... not impossible. Chances are it would make our body very ill.'
'Ill how?' Greg sniffled, looking up at Sherlock. He was still only wearing a towel, but neither of them seemed to mind.
Sherlock shrugged and sniffled. 'How does coma ill sound?'
'Not good at all. So... He's really gone?' He choked on a sob. 'I don't want to risk you falling into a coma just to get him back. I'm not that selfish. But if you meet John again I can't promise he'll feel the same as me. He might have you do it because... because he loves you and he wants to marry you. Last I saw of him he was still wearing your engagement ring.'
'He really loves me?' Sherlock asked in a small voice. 'I can barely remember him. I... what do I do? Greggy, what do I do?'
'Well, we'll let you heal a little more, grow up a bit. Then maybe we can go visit him. I don't know. I'll have to prepare him a bit. He still thinks you're dead.'
'He deserves to know, doesn't he? If he loves me. Why keep him away? He seems like a very nice man.'
'He is a very nice man,' Greg smiled softly. 'But... he's not well right now. He should get better first before I tell him.'
'Not very well?' Sherlock crawled further onto the bed, the towel barely covering him now.
'No. Not well at all. He misses you terribly. So much so he's made himself dreadfully ill. Hmmm. Maybe seeing you're ok would do him some good. But I still think you should be a little older before you see him again.' He thought it over, blatantly ignoring Sherlock's falling towel.
Sherlock sighed loudly. 'Why must I make everyone so sad? Made Croft sad. Made you sad. Made nice man sad and ill.'
'We thought you were dead,' Greg said softly. 'We love you so much and we missed you terribly. We were sad because we missed you. And John is still sad because he still thinks you're dead.'
'Why did older me fake his death? It was silly. Didn't he care at all? Couldn't he have at least let you in on the lie?'
'He was protecting us from what I've gathered. Maybe he was told that if he didn't die then we would. And maybe we weren't to know because if we knew then we'd all be in danger again.'
'So he loved you all then. Lots and lots.' Sherlock crawled closer, cuddling up to Greggy.
'Yes. But he loved John the most.' Greg hugged Sherlock close and ran a hand through his growing curls, humming softly.
'Obviously not enough if he's deleted himself.' Sherlock closed his eyes and clutched Greggy tighter.
'I'd like to believe that he wouldn't do that. He couldn't leave John. They were... They were gonna have a family together. And they have a cat too. Her name's Lily. He rescued her. I think maybe he's hiding inside your head. Your mind palace is a big place. Are you sure he's deleted himself? Maybe he's hiding in there.'
'Croft pushed him over the edge. He was still in my mind when Croft hit me and yelled at me. Perhaps... perhaps he didn't think he had anything to come back to. That John wouldn't forgive him. That Croft would hurt him... no. He was worried that he'd kill Croft. He's so angry at him. Or he was before he deleted himself.'
'Croft is an idiot. Sherlock isn't. I don't think he'd delete himself. He's not that... I don't want to say stupid, but that's the only word coming to mind. Could you maybe search for him? I just want to know if he's really gone or if he's jus hiding. Please?'
Sherlock swallowed. 'Greggy, he's gone. He went. I felt him leave. He was an idiot.'
'I... I never got to say goodbye,' Greg sniffled. 'Both times. He just left.' He hugged Sherlock close and cried softly into his shoulder.
'Greggy,' Sherlock choked out. 'I could try to get him back. I'll try... for you.'
'No. No, it's ok,' Greg choked out. He pet Sherlock's hair soothingly. 'I've got you. That's better than no Sherlock at all.'
'You'll always have me. Not sure Croft likes this me though. I'm glad to be away from him. Though... Greggy, I made him cry. And the older Sherlock told me Croft was thinking of... of...' He fell into heavy sobs. 'Of killing himself so older Sherlock comes back. Dun wan him to die!'
'He threatened to... He and I shall have a very serious talk once we go back. But for now, let's get dressed and go to Tesco's. We can get you some new toys and some colouring books. Maybe some movies to watch. Ok?'
'You're tired,' Sherlock mumbled. 'Go sleep. We can go to Tesco's later.'
'Stay and cuddle me?' Greg yawned, pulling Sherlock closer to his chest.
'K. I'll cuddle you.' Sherlock entwined his legs with Greggy's and held onto him tightly.
'Thanks, love,' Greg hummed. He'd never been one for pet names, and he briefly wondered why it was Sherlock who suddenly brought them out. He'd called him love, dear, hun, and sweetie since he'd arrived. He didn't dwell on it long as he fell fast asleep, snoring lightly, with Sherlock cuddled to his chest.
Next chapter will be posted Saturday while I'm at work. I have a super long shift Saturday, so I'm allowed to bring my laptop to do stuff or to watch Netflix. We'll see you then.
~TSA + MJCF
