A/N: Here's another 221B for you and I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer same as the other chapters.
Sherlock pulled the blanket over his head, ignoring the sounds of the movie John was watching. It even had a ridiculous title, 9.
As the movie ended; John heard a noise coming from the settee.
"Sherlock? Are you crying?" John asked, tearfully.
"No." A muffled, shaky voice scornfully replied.
"You are. Your blanket is wet."
The blanket sniffled. "It's a shock blanket, it's made for shock and I feel like I've been run over by a large truck..."
"That was the saddest movie I have ever seen in my life..." John said weakly.
"Why do they make things like that? It made my emotions betray me... Just like Winnie The Pooh used to. Those shows are hazardous to my transport and mental reputation."
"It's alright to cry, Sherlock." John said, looking at the damp, orange covered lump on the settee.
"It's weakness, John, for any reason."
John nodded. "Maybe, but I think it takes a pretty brave man to cry for something he cares about."
"Do you ever cry, John?"
"Yeah… sometimes."
"Well... maybe it's not a weakness then..."
John was surprised by the sudden change in Sherlock's attitude.
"Why is that now?"
"You are the strongest, bravest man I know and if you cry, it could never be from weakness."
A hand appeared from underneath the blanket.
"I need your tissue box."