Wishing everyone many blessings and glad tidings in the New Year! Sorry fortaking so long with this chapter the holidays caught up with me :) This is a long one and I'm pretty sure not everything is accurate but again, this is all from my imagination so please, don't be to harsh with me in your assessment :) Other than that...Thank you all for reading, the kudos, and the bookmarks! YOU GUYS ARE THE GREATEST!
In the back of the car, John tried to look Sherlock over as best he could. Trying not to be to rough with him, he turned his head to the side gently, hissing in anger at the two bruises darkening the left side of his face and the finger shaped bruises on his chin. He swore softly to himself that he would make both Victor and Sebastian pay for having put their hands on Sherlock. Picking up the arm across his lap, John pulled up the coat sleeve followed by the shirt sleeve. He looked at the spot where Victor had stuck the needle into Sherlock's pale flesh. "Bloody bastard, didn't even bother to try and wipe the area clean." John growled low. He started in surprise when he heard Sherlock whisper his name.
"John?"
"Yes, Sherlock, I'm here. Just relax, we're headed to Baker Street." John ran a soothing hand through damp, dark curls. Frowning at the heat coming off of Sherlock, John reached out a hand to feel his forehead. "How are you feeling? Think you can tell me what all Victor gave you?"
Sherlock shivered as he tried to concentrate but was finding it difficult with the drug in his system. "It was one of his old cocktail's but much stronger." He blinked, focusing on the face above his. He couldn't help smiling as he recognized the sky blue eyes of his blogger. "John..." Sherlock slowly pushed himself up and off of John's lap. "John, you have the most beautiful eyes, I dream about them often. Do you know that when you come, your eyes darken and your lips form this beautiful "o" shape." Sherlock pursed his lips in example, smiling when he heard the soft huff from the man next to him. Turning as he pressed closer to John, Sherlock ran a hand through the blond hair. "Your hair smells like sunshine after a hard rain." He whispered. Pressing a kiss against the blond locks, Sherlock spoke almost absently. "I wish...I wish you didn't have to leave me anymore." Sherlock said softly. "I wish..."
John listened as Sherlock drifted off, mumbling incoherently about anything that came to mind. "I wish for that as well, Sherlock." John closed his eyes against the wave of anger that hit him. He wished he'd done things differently or at the very least been able to talk to Sherlock sooner. Now, here he was, holding his best friend and lover as they raced back to the other side of London. John couldn't help wishing for a number of things, one of which was that Sherlock had never met Victor Trevor. After listening to how the man talked to and about Sherlock, John knew that upon their next meeting he wouldn't be able to hold onto his temper. Shaking his head, he groaned softly at the dull throb. Reaching up, he gingerly touched the back of his head, hissing at the small lump he found there. He'd take care of that as well once they got back to Baker Street. Looking up front at their driver, John sighed. "Alistair, who was at the flat when you and Emilie left?" He needed to know who he was going to be dealing with once they arrived.
"Master Sherringford as well as Master Mycroft and DI Lestrade, Dr. Watson." Alistair answered immediately.
John let out a soft breath, he let his head slowly fall forward and closed his eyes. Grateful that he wouldn't have to handle tonight alone. Knew that they would be there in a matter of minutes so he would need to be ready.
John jerked as Sherlock suddenly pushed away from him, his eyes wide in fear. "Sherlock. What is it, what's wrong?"
He means to harm me, Sherlock. Are you going to let someone who left you all alone hurt someone who's never left you? Sherlock tried to forget the words, to ignore the truth that rang in them...but he couldn't. Drugs were supposed to quiet his mind not put it in this whirlwind. He wasn't supposed to be able to hear Victor's voice on repeat. Not reminding him of things he had tried so hard to forget. "You will leave me again..." Sherlock whispered as he moved away from John, curling up into the corner of the seat. Shaking, he stared wide eyed at John...you are loyal to a man who married another woman while professing to love you! "Victor is right, you do not love me, you love her."
"Sherlock, what the bloody hell are you talking about?" John looked at him in concern. He knew it could be the drugs that had Sherlock believing Victor was telling the truth. "Listen to me, you know that's not true, I love you, Sherlock. You and only you." John watched as the street lights danced off the glass around them, highlighting the wide, ice blue eyes, showing the fear and mistrust in their depths. John slowly moved closer, making sure not to do anything that would cause Sherlock to bolt.
"No, he was...Victor never left me, he always...w-where is Emilie? I thought..." Sherlock broke off as Victor's words continued their cycle through his head...you remain loyal to someone who doesn't love you, someone who left you! Sherlock mumbled as he glanced around the back of the car. "I heard her voice...d-did Victor tell you to hide her? Is she safe? You do know he plans to hurt her don't you? She doesn't deserve what you're going to do to her and I can't do it. N-not to Em, never to Em." Sherlock whispered. Are you going to let someone who left you all alone hurt someone who's never left you? "Em would never leave me, s-she would stay no matter what..." Sherlock held back a soft sob. "Why...why am I never good enough? Why do you keep leaving me...Victor...Victor said you would...he wouldn't, n-not Victor..."
John listened to Sherlock ramble, the words tearing him apart as he listened to Sherlock go from one subject to another. The pain and accusation in his words hurt more than anything but John knew it was the drugs, even if what he was saying was the truth. Sighing gratefully when they pulled up in front of the flat, John exited the car and looked around. Once he was sure that there was no one else about, he leaned back into the car and spoke softly to Sherlock. "Come on, love, we need to get you into the shower then to bed. Can't have Ford seeing you like this now can we?"
Sherlock shook his head, "He wouldn't like me like this. D-do you not like me anymore, John? I-is that why you left, Victor said it is because I did not do right, I was disobedient and this is my punishment. H-he said I was never good enough to be loved...Ford won't love me like this...H-he won't want me to be his father anymore."
"No, Sherlock, damnit that's not true. Your son adores you, I adore you! Right now, however, I need you to come with me up to the flat. You need a shower and some rest, I'll even have Ford come spend the night." John pulled Sherlock gently from the back of the car. He cursed Victor for his taunts and doping Sherlock. He'd struggled hard to get clean and stay that way and now...in just a few short hours, Victor Trevor has put all of that hard work in danger. "We need to get you cleaned up and some food in you as well."
Sherlock nodded his head in understanding. Looking at John through a hazy fog, he sighed sadly. "You no longer love me, John. I truly wish you did not have to leave me but you will and then there will be no one there..." Sherlock drifted off as John opened the door to the flat and guided him up the stairs.
"Sherlock...John..."
John looked up at the shadow that appeared at the top of the steps. Letting out a soft breath when Mycroft came into view. "Yeah, Mycroft, it's us. Did Emilie make it back yet?"
"No, not yet." Mycroft frowned as he walked down the steps to help John with Sherlock. Looking at the pale face of his brother, Mycroft's gaze hardened. "The bruises..."
"Are gifts from both Sebastian and Victor." John said angrily. "I need to get him in the shower then in bed, where is Ford, is he here? Sherlock's going to want to see him before he goes to sleep."
Mycroft nodded, "He's upstairs with Gregory and you may wish to call your wife. She's been by twice looking for you."
John let out a soft round of curses. He'd completely forgotten about Mary in his haste to get Sherlock back home. "Yeah, ok, well, once I've gotten Sherlock settled I'll give her a ring."
Mycroft nodded again, his ice gray gaze on his brothers shivering form. "A cold shower will shock most people back to reality, the problem is that Sherlock isn't most people. If Victor stayed true to form he gave Sherlock a cocktail meant to lower his inhibitions and raise his sexual desires."
John frowned, "Why? What purpose could that possibly serve unless..."
"Unless he didn't plan to use it for his benefit alone. How much do you know, John, about Sherlock's relationship with Victor Trevor?" Mycroft asked softly. They had made their way up the stairs and were now standing in front of Sherlock's room. "I see we will need to fix any lapses of information." While John frowned in concentration, Mycroft opened the door as quietly as possible. He didn't want Ford to see his father in this state and knew Sherlock would never allow his son to see him this way either. "I will leave you to undress him and help him in the shower. I would dare say, he would not be happy to find me in the room with you both. Ford is safe for now so no need to worry." Mycroft ran a hand over the damp curls plastered against his brothers head, worry curving his lips down. "I wish I had been better able to protect him from Victor. If I had known he was involved..."
"Yes, well, we can dwell on that later. Let me get Sherlock in the shower and then to bed, we can all talk about what happened as soon as Emilie makes it back here." John pulled the taller man into the bathroom and sat him down on the floor. "Try not to fall over you crazy git, don't need you getting a concussion as well." John muttered as he turned to the shower and turned on the spray. He tested the water to make sure it wasn't to hot or to cold, once the temperature was where he needed it, he turned back to Sherlock and frowned. Some how he had managed to get out of his coat, scarf, and gloves and was currently working on his shoes. "Sherlock, just what in the bloody hell..."
"Body...on f-fire, John. I-I can't...it's to hot in here, please, John, h-help me..." Sherlock struggled with the buttons on his shirt, which seemed to be fighting his fingers and he looked up into John's eyes. "Y-you didn't leave me, John, y-you're still here?"
John let out a choked laugh, "Of course you crazy berk, just where the hell else would I be?" John brushed the trembling fingers to the side and finished unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt. "Come on, I need you to stand up now. We need to get you out of those slacks and then your pants."
"F-ford, i-is he ok?" Sherlock asked softly. He remembered Victor saying he was going to take Ford from him, to hurt him. "John, m-my son..."
"Is in the front room with Mycroft and Greg. Just waiting on Emilie to get back and for you to take a shower. Now come on, get in so we can go see your son." John finished undressing Sherlock then helped him into the shower. He waited until Sherlock had stepped under the spray of water before letting himself relax. He wasn't certain if Sherlock would want to see Ford in his current state. Until he noticed Sherlock rambling again, the angrier he became the louder his voice rose. "Sherlock?"
"He won't like me anymore, h-he will think ill of me, Ford...he will not want to see me. Victor...Victor will take him from me and I'll never...He's my son, John! Victor can not..." Sherlock broke off with an angry grunt. Sticking his head out of the shower, Sherlock's hazy gaze searched the room. "John, are you still here?"
John looked up at the pale face in front of him. "Yes, Sherlock." The drugs, they must be making him hallucinate. John stood up and looked at the shower, the pale face watching him. "Victor won't take your son, I swear to you I won't let that happen. I'll do everything I can to make sure that he never takes Ford from you or Emilie."
Sherlock looked at John, his gaze unfocused as he thought about what he said. "You can not make that promise and still be able to keep it, John." He stepped out of the shower, leaving the water running behind him. He knew John would turn it off once they were ready to leave the bathroom.
John reached for a towel and dried Sherlock off as well as he could, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand. "Well, I can bloody well try, can't I?" John mumbled under his breath. "Hold still so I can dry you off. You need to eat and get in bed."
"I would much prefer if it were your hands on me instead of the towel but this will suffice until we have more time alone." Sherlock was looking down at the blond head of his best friend, wondering how much longer this would all take now. He knew the drugs weren't fully out of his system but at least he was able to think more clearly. "John, you do not have to do this, you need to get home to Mary. I'm sure she is worried about you and the fact..."
"The fact of the matter is that I'm needed here, yeah? I'm not leaving you Sherlock until I'm certain you're ok. So until then, put your clothes on and I'll meet you out front." John held up a hand to forestall Sherlock's protests. "I don't want to hear it, Sherlock, we had plans with Ford this evening and they were ruined because of your ex and Sebastian. We owe him a movie night and it's time we get some answers, so get dressed and I'll meet you in the hallway, we'll greet everyone together or you can get dressed, get in bed, and I'll bring Ford to you." John stood up, slid an arm around Sherlock's waist and pulled him close. "We do this together, remember? I've left you to deal with things alone more times than I can count, lately, this time I am not leaving." John looked up at Sherlock, his eyes pleading with him. "Let me stay, Sherlock, let me stay and help you, let me show you that you're not alone in this." He looked up into the pale face, looking into bright ice blue eyes. "Please, for once, let me help you..."
Sherlock leaned down and kissed John, it was the only thing he could think of to do. He didn't want to ask John for his help but knew things tended to go a little smoother with him around. If John were to help them then maybe this would all be over sooner, maybe they could all start to heal and move forward. Victor's words about Ford floated through his memory. He may not be mine, biologically, but he is still my son! "John, have you seen Ford? Do you know for certain that he is..."
"Your brother was here when we got here. He said Ford was with Greg so I'm pretty sure that he's ok but if you would hurry up and get dressed we can go check for ourselves." John pushed Sherlock towards the door leading to his bedroom. "Hurry up, I'm sure you need to eat and Ford is dying to see you. I'll meet you in the front with..."
"No! John stay with me, please." Sherlock slowly opened the door to his room and peered inside. He quickly stepped back into the bathroom, shaking, he remembered the times where Victor would lead him into a dark, empty room after a shower. All the times where he would force him to do different sexual things to whoever was waiting there. Until he'd seen Emilie...when he'd seen his friend, beaten and bloody, Sherlock had refused. He wouldn't use her to get his next hit, even if Mycroft had abandoned him, he would not let Victor force him to hurt Emilie. At Sherlock's refusal, Victor had done it himself, drugging him to the point that he couldn't move and raping them both, repeatedly. "T-the room is dark..." He tried to catch his breath, the sounds of Emilie's pained cries filling his ears. "I can hear them, John, all those people Victor had waiting, I-I can't go back...not again." Sherlock whispered as he backed away from the door.
John looked from the open door to the tall, pale man in front of him. "Stay right here, I'll go get you a change of clothes and be right back."
"No, John wait! T-there could be someone, something, in there waiting to hurt you let me...just, give me a few minutes a-and I will go with you." Sherlock looked over at John then back into the dark room in front of him.
John frowned at Sherlock's words but was interrupted by a soft knock. He walked over to open the door, turning to look at Sherlock behind him. "Put your towel around you, you crazy git, who knows who is standing on the other side of the door?"
Sherlock nodded his head, complying with John's orders with out complaint. He watched as the door was opened and Emilie's face came into view. "Em?"
"I thought you would need a change of clothes and John has been in here the entire time. I just...I'm sorry to interrupt but, here." She held out a bundle of clothing towards John. "You, ummm, will need these to warm up and Ford..."
Sherlock's head snapped up and he moved forward. "Is he ok, Victor wasn't able to get to him was he?" Taking the bundle from John, Sherlock pulled his shirt over his head, shaking the water from his damp curls.
Emilie turned her back to John and Sherlock, waiting for the other to get dressed. "Ford is as well as expected. A little disappointed to have missed the movie but he is willing to accept ice cream in its place."
John let out a quick laugh. "He negotiates like his father. Willing to accept the loss as long as there is something there to replace it." John flinched, certain that the sting in his words was not lost on Emilie or Sherlock.
Sherlock's head jerked up at John's statement. "Is that what you think? That I've replaced you with someone or something better? That I don't feel the loss of you not being here with me? You think Emilie and Ford are here to fill that space?" He watched John through cloudy blue eyes. "You would truly believe that I could move on from you as if you mean nothing to me? That I would be able to just move through out my everyday life as easily as you now do?"
"No, Sherlock, that's not what I meant nor is it what I said..."John started but was cut off by a soft, angry huff.
"Then what, exactly, did you mean, John? Because it sounded like you were saying that I am willing to accept anything, as long as there is a suitable replacement for whatever it is I've lost." Sherlock pulled his lounge pants on and tied them at the waist. He turned his back to the blond staring at him. "You do not have to stay John, you are free to leave at anytime. Emilie, Ford, and Mycroft are here as is Lestrade, they will stay with me. I do not wish to make you feel..."
"If that's what the bloody hell I wanted to do then I would do it! I didn't say you replaced me with Emilie or Ford and I wasn't trying to imply that either! I simply meant that you are willing to negotiate as long as you still get something you want! Now was that so hard to let me get out or for you to listen to?! Just what the hell would make you think or even say something like that?" John glared at Sherlock's back, trying to understand just what was going through his mind. "Is this the drugs talking because I know you're smarter than..."
"If you two are going to have an argument would you at least wait until Sherringford is not within hearing distance?" An angry voice hissed from the doorway.
John turned to see Mycroft glaring at them both, the dark look he sent them made John flinch. He glanced behind him at the tall, pale figure and sighed. Mycroft was right, it wouldn't do for their argument to be over heard by Ford. Before either could respond, they were cut off by a high pitched squeal followed by a round of laughter. He glanced at Sherlock, whose face held a note of alarm.
"Who is with Ford now, Mycroft?" Sherlock looked from his brother towards the doorway, trying to see past him into the living room.
"Gregory, his godmother, and her two traveling companions." He looked from Sherlock to John then back. "Again, if you two insist on arguing, at least go to the room and shut the door..."
"Do not lecture me Mycroft about what I should and should not do in front of my son." Sherlock said softly. "I will talk to him and explain why we were so loud."
"You two need to talk first, whatever is eating at you both you need to fix it before you come around Ford." Emilie looked from John to Sherlock, a sad smile curving her lips, then turned and walked back to the other room.
"What is wrong with you two? Have you not had enough fighting for one day? I agree with Emilie, whatever is going on, you two need to fix it before you see Ford." Mycroft glared at both men, a frown curving his lips down.
"Shut up, Mycroft. There is nothing going on with us, just a difference of opinions, which shouldn't be unusual, considering this is how John and I usually solve problems anyway." Sherlock looked from Mycroft to John then back "Now, if you will excuse me. I would like to see my son." Sherlock moved past John and stood in front of Mycroft, glaring at him until he finally moved from in front of the doorway.
"He's been upset enough for one day, little brother, do try not to upset him any further, hmmm?" Mycroft stated in a cold voice, one he knew would hit Sherlock directly where it hurt. If the tensing in his brothers shoulders was any indication, he had hit his mark.
"Then why don't you bloody well leave, Mycroft? Or I may upset him with the loss of an uncle." Sherlock said softly. He took a deep breath and continued into the front room, a smile on his face at the sight of his son. "Ford?"
"Papa! Are you ok, mommy said you were hurt and the bad man was trying to come get you and Unca Mycroft had to look for you and did you know Aunt Avie is here?! She brought me a new toy just like Sam did! It lights up when I press the buttons and it talks to me when I ask it stuff! Unca Clint gave me a new bow and arrow set too! Are we still going to watch a movie and eat ice cream?"
Sherlock blinked at the rush of questions, looking around the room he noticed the three additional guests. Turning back to Ford, he gave him a smile. "We can do whatever it is you wish to do. Can I have a moment alone to speak with you mother and our guests first? I'm sure your Uncle wouldn't mind sharing a bowl of ice cream with you."
"Of course not, I would be honored to share a bowl of ice cream with one of the smartest people in London." Mycroft spoke from behind Sherlock. He stepped around his brother and smiled down at his nephew. "If you do not mind sharing a bowl with me as well?"
Ford grinned up at both men, pleased to have their full attention on him. "Can we have chocolate? I love chocolate and sprinkles but I don't think daddy has any..."
"They're in the third cupboard above the sink. There should be red, blue, and green, if Sherlock hasn't eaten them all." John spoke absently from the doorway. He was reading a text from Mary and looked up at the silence in the room. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"
Ford let out a shout of happiness and took off for the kitchen. "I want lotsa red and blue Unca Mycroft! With chocolate ice cream please!" The small voice was pitched high in excited pleasure.
Mycroft glanced between Emilie and Sherlock then turned towards Greg. "It seems I have a date with a curly brunette, would you care to crash or..."
Greg grinned, "Damn right I'll be crashing, I like chocolate ice cream as well." He stood up from his chair and walked towards the kitchen. "Hope you don't mind an extra person?" Greg smiled as he sat down next to Ford.
"No, Unca Greg, I like you, too." Ford grinned up at Greg and Mycroft, waiting patiently for his ice cream and sprinkles.
Sherlock watched the scene from the front room. Without turning, he addressed their guests. "General, it has been a long time since we have last seen each other. Are you and your two companions here for business or pleasure?"
A light laugh floated around the room. "Why do you insist on using my title every time I see you?"
Sherlock turned to the petite brunette behind him. "Because, Aveline, it shows that I still have some modicum of respect, despite what the papers may say." He gave her a quick grin then let his gaze move to the two men behind her. He raised an eyebrow in silent question, having already determined who they were and why they were here.
Shaking her head, Aveline gave him a small smile. "You always were an ass, Sherlock." Laughing at the smile he gave her, she turned to her friends. "Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, let me introduce you to Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, former Army Captain, and of course you already know Em." Turning back to Sherlock, she shook her head, "And to answer your question, you already know why I'm here."
"Ah, yes, Sebastian Moran, Marcus Magnussen, and now added to the equation is also one, Victor Trevor." Sherlock tried to keep the anger out of his voice but found it difficult with the memory of Victor threatening Ford.
"Tell me what happened, Sherlock?" Emilie looked from Sherlock to John. "I heard Seb's voice on the phone then, nothing. It has something to do with Ford, doesn't it. Sebastian is helping Victor as well?"
Sherlock shivered, "He threatened to take Ford from us. Said that he wanted his son. He said that we were unfit to raise Ford."
John frowned, "Victor also said that, biologically, Ford wasn't his but he was more his son than yours."
Sherlock turned towards John, his gaze narrowed in thought as he went over what he could remember. "Are you sure John? I don't..." He frowned, cursing Victor again for the drugs now in his system.
John nodded, "Yes, he said, Ford may not be his biologically but he is still his son."
Emilie frowned, "There are a number of ways I could interpret that statement. If I go with the one that comes to mind first..."
"But we have never, Em, i-it's not possible." Sherlock whispered. He looked from John back to the kitchen where Ford was now entertaining Greg and Mycroft with a story. "John, what does this mean?" He turned back to John, the only other person he trusted above everything else.
John let out a heavy sigh, looking from Sherlock to Emilie. Turning to Aveline and her companions he frowned. "Are you sure, Emilie? I don't..."
"Aveline is Ford's godmother and Clint and Sam are his bodyguards, so to speak. They can be trusted and Sam is former military as well and Clint, well let's just say he is someone we want on our side.
Both men nodded their heads and John returned the gesture. "Ok, well, I can't really be sure but if we go with what Victor said," John turned to Sherlock, his blue gaze watching him closely as he finished his statement. "There are a number of ways, you could be the father and you two not have had sex." He watched as Sherlock's face turned a light pink. John stepped closer to him, keeping his tone light and his gaze steady. "Victor made it a point to emphasis his status as far as parentage. If...if he is right and he is not biologically Ford's father..."
"How would he have been able to...th-there never was a time..." Sherlock looked at John, confusion in his words, his eyes. Looking over at Emilie, he frowned at how pale she was. "Emilie, what is it?"
"If what John is saying is true, that would mean he would have had to..." Emilie broke off as her gaze focused on Sherlock. "We need to find out, immediately."
Sherlock nodded, if Ford wasn't Victor's son that would mean he truly was the father. He needed to remember what happened, needed to clear his mind enough to go back through that time and try to...
"Sherlock?" John was watching him as he seemed to turn in to himself. "Hey, you ok?"
Sherlock leaned forward and took a deep breath. He remembered why he couldn't focus. John was still here and the drugs were still in his system and as much as he wanted to figure out the puzzle being presented, his body's demands were overriding everything else. "John..."
John took an involuntary step forward. "You're not ok, you're eyes are still dilated and you're breathings to damn fast. Just what the hell did he give you?" John pulled Sherlock towards his chair and pushed him gently down into it. "Sit, we need to figure out..."
"It is a generic cocktail of heroine, cocaine, and zolpidem. When administered to another person, it incapacitates them and renders them vulnerable to a drug facilitated sexual assault or DFSA, including rape. It is considered highly dangerous next to rohypnol, ketamine and gamma-hydroxybutyrate also commonly known as GHB."
Both John and Sherlock looked up in surprise. Turning to look behind him, John watched as a hologram appeared from the tablet on the table. "Amazing, h-how is this? Is this the new Stark tablet?"
"Yes, it's not out to the public just yet but it is available thanks to my cousin." Aveline smiled at the looks on John and Sherlock's faces. "Thank you, JARVIS, let me know if you find out anything else on what the effects are."
"Very well Madam, you have a good evening."
"He talks to you?" John moved closer to the table looking at the tablet closely. "This is amazing, Sherlock would be able to show people how he does his work and not have to worry with the mundane details or questions." He grinned at the soft huff from behind him. Looking up at Emilie, he felt his smile falter. "Emilie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"No, it's ok, this has all been a lot. I thought Victor was still in France and we were safe here. I should have known he wouldn't stay away but I never would have thought...he's always said he never wanted Ford."
"Then there is a specific reason why he's after my son." Sherlock sighed, a small smile curving his lips. "But I told him he couldn't have him, I would kill him myself before I would willingly let him have Ford. He wasn't happy about it but I think he understood? I-I'm not to sure, the drugs are making things a bit fuzzy and my head's beginning to hurt, John, please, do something." Sherlock looked up into the sky blue eyes, silently pleading with him to make things better.
"Come on you, let's get you in bed. You need some sleep, after a good night's rest, we can figure out what the hell is really the truth and what's not in the morning." John pulled Sherlock up from his chair and led him out of the room. He turned to Emilie before leaving the room. "Emilie, if your first theory was the same as mine, what were you planning on doing?"
Emilie looked at John, her face pale, gaze bright. "I'll have to find out the truth." She turned towards the kitchen, her gaze on her son. "I need to know if what we've been told was a lie or not, I owe it to both of them to know the truth."
John nodded, he agreed with her statement but could feel something cold settle low in his stomach. He had seen how Sherlock's face had lit up at the idea of Ford being his biological son and not Victor's. He'd never seen Sherlock interact with a child before, had simply assumed that he'd never had an interest in children and now...now John could see that his assumption was wrong. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he wouldn't have minded? That he would have wanted to help you, I don't know, possibly raise the baby?John held in a sigh as he remembered Greg's words the night of his wedding. He hadn't known about Ford back then, of that John was sure but he had to have known Sherlock liked children. Why else would he make that statement, why else...
"John?"
John looked up at Emilie, confusion in his gaze. "Yeah, uh, sorry, just thinking over some things."
"I wanted to thank you for not leaving him. He usually would have gone alone but he's told me you've yet to leave him and I thank you for that. I know your wife must be upset with us for having monopolized all of your time this evening. If you will allow us to make it up to you both?" Emilie offered the gratitude and apology as a way to give John an out. He could stay if he wished and see Sherlock through the night or he could leave, go home to Mary and wonder if Sherlock was ok, was he being tended to, did anything happen that they hadn't anticipated. "He wouldn't mind if you stayed and neither would I. Besides, I have company and I believe Ford has his Uncles occupied for the remainder of the evening."
John nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "No thanks are needed, he means everything to me and I thank you for letting me stay to help him through this."
Emilie smiled, "He would do the same for me." She turned to Sam and gave him a smile, flushing at the wink he gave her in return.
John watched the interaction between the two and wondered just how close they truly were, shaking his head, he turned and walked to Sherlock's room. He came to an abrupt halt when he stepped through the doorway and was greeted by a fully nude Sherlock. "Sherlock, what, uh, what's going on?"
Sherlock could feel his face heating but he was determined not to back down. "I need you, John. Just...just for tonight, please. I know we shouldn't, I can think of a number of reasons why we shouldn't, however..." Sherlock was interrupted by a hard kiss and the feel of a hard, warm body pressed against his. Moaning, he slid an arm around John's waist and pulled him closer.
"Christ," John gasped. "I should leave, you have company and I-I should..." John was cut off by a kiss, all other thoughts disappearing with the heat of the body pressed against him. Groaning, John walked Sherlock back towards the bed. He tried to get out of his clothing, while staying as close to Sherlock as possible. When it came time to remove his jumper and shirt, he did so with quick efficiency. The desire to feel Sherlock overriding all else. Until his phone rang...groaning in frustration, he knew it was Mary. He should have left as soon as Sherlock had gotten out of the shower but hadn't wanted to leave him alone. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, John silenced the ringer. He felt Sherlock shift against him, his tall, lean body pulling away. "No, Sherlock, where..." John chased after the lips that, only seconds before, had been pressed sweetly against his.
"Y-you must go, John." Sherlock said softly, sadly. "She will keep calling until..." Sherlock looked away from the pleading sky blue eyes in front of him. It hurt to say the words. More than anything Sherlock knew he wanted John to stay. Stay the night if that was all he could have but Mary would not allow that and Sherlock knew that right now, John was safer with her than with him for the moment.
"I'm not leaving until I'm sure that you're better. If this is what you need from me, then please, Sherlock, let me give it to you. If this is all I can do for you right now..." John looked up into the pale face, a face that haunted his dreams with promises of more than just sex and adventure. A face that showed him a future, a love strong enough to survive anything life threw at them. "Let me, please, Sherlock." John knew that he shouldn't push right now. He knew that in the current state of mind he was in, Sherlock, already at war with himself from Victor's earlier taunts, John knew he should just put Sherlock to bed. Put him to bed and make sure he went to sleep, then leave. He knew that of the two of them, he needed to be the strong one right now.
John knew all of this but he couldn't get Sherlock's face from earlier out of his mind. That broken, devastated look of someone who had nothing left to fight for, of someone who felt as if everyone who loved them had abandoned them. His earlier ramblings, of why he wasn't good enough made John's heart ache. Then he remembered the look on Ford's face the first night he'd met him. The fear that had shown in those silver eyes had shown in the ice blue ones before him. "In the car, you were scared of me." John whispered. "The look on your face, you kept repeating how I kept leaving you and he never did. I can't..." John broke off with a harsh sound. "I need you to know that I'll never leave you, Sherlock, no matter where I am or who is around me there will never be anyone but you." John pushed Sherlock gently back onto the bed, smiling as he landed with a soft omph. "I'll stay to make sure you get to sleep, as much as I would like to, uh, to do..." John felt his face flood with heat as his gaze traveled the pale body splayed out in front of him. "Christ, I want nothing more than to stay and just...just..." John drifted off as he watched the man in front of him. He could feel his resolve slipping as Sherlock writhed on the bed, moonlight spilling into the room, making the already pale body look almost translucent. "I won't leave you like this, I'll make sure you get to sleep, nothing else." John whispered hoarsely.
Sherlock bit his bottom lip, watching the man standing over him. It was so hot in the room and he was overly aware of the desire to be touched and rubbed by this man. "John?" Sherlock blinked up into the tan face. "I do love you, John, so very much."
The words were spoken softly, so softly that John almost missed them. If he hadn't been leaning forward to kiss Sherlock, he was sure the statement would have gone unnoticed. Pressing a gentle kiss against Sherlock's neck, John sighed. "I love you too, Sherlock. More than I've ever loved anyone in my life." John ran a hand over the pale chest, enjoying the soft rumbling sound. When he reached a nipple, John gave it a gentle tweak, smiling when Sherlock gasped.
"John..."
"I've got you, love, trust me. This is exactly what you need to quiet your mind and get some sleep." John leaned down and gave the other nipple a gentle bite, tugging at the small nub until Sherlock was arching off the bed, whimpering softly. Using his other hand to play with one nipple, John used his mouth to tease the other. Leaving one hand free to touch and explore the pale body beneath him. Crawling onto the bed, John moved away from Sherlock briefly. He maneuvered himself alongside Sherlock's flushed body, balancing his weight on his legs, John went back to teasing Sherlock's nipples. He couldn't help the soft groan that left him when Sherlock gasped loudly, arching up into his mouth. Giving his nipples one last teasing lick and pinch, John moved downward, running his hands over the smooth alabaster skin over corded muscles. The usually ice white skin was flushed a beautiful rose, the cupid's bow mouth was swollen and slightly parted as Sherlock tried to catch his breath, and the ever observant eyes, those eyes that seemed to know everything about a person, were now wide and dilated with pleasure.
John moved down Sherlock's stomach, rubbing his sides as he went. He knew what he wanted to do, knew how he wanted to make Sherlock feel but if he did the wrong thing...
"Y-you can do whatever it is you wish, John." Sherlock said softly. He smiled at the man currently pressing kisses against his stomach. He could see his dilemma, John's desire to please him as well as not make him feel less than he was truly meant to feel. "I trust you."
John took a deep breath, nodding his head once. He leaned up on his knees, spread Sherlock's legs and looked down. Down at the small pink hole that was slightly hidden in shadow. Glancing up at the window, John gave a silent thanks for a clear night and a full moon. "Are you sure, Sherlock?"
Sherlock bucked his hips at John, his impatience showing in his movements. "John, you said you would...d-do you not want to? Am I wrong in thinking..."
"No, Sherlock, I want to. I swear to you, I want you so very badly, I just want to be sure that you want the same thing. I don't want to take advantage of you." John looked up to find wide ice blue eyes blown wide with lust.
"I trust you, John, above all others. Now please, will you just get on..." Sherlock broke off with a sharp gasp. His back arched slightly off the bed as John slid his mouth down over his cock. "J-john..." Sherlock chocked out. His hands curled in the sheets as he tried to keep from crying out. He could feel John's tongue as it wrapped around the head of his cock. Biting back a moan, Sherlock pressed his head back against the mattress, the desire to thrust up into John's mouth becoming stronger the harder he sucked. His hands clenched in the sheets as he tried to push down the desire to moan John's name out loud, strangely aware that they were not alone in the house.
John moaned around the cock in his mouth, relishing with fierce pleasure the way Sherlock's muscles clenched. John looked up the long, lean body, his eyes taking in the flushed skin stretched taught as Sherlock tried to keep from moaning out loud. As tempting as the desire was to hear Sherlock, John knew that as long as Ford was in the house, it was better he didn't know everything that was going on. So he slid his hands under Sherlock's hips, keeping his eyes on his face, and lifted up, hollowing his cheeks as he moved his head up and down. Groaning, as Sherlock's hips moved in counter to his mouth. John knew his mouth and throat would be aching in the morning but he didn't care, as long as he could do this for Sherlock, he would.
Sherlock tried to hold in the moan that rose in his chest, panting as he thrust up into John's mouth. The drugs were making it hard to focus as pleasure raced along every nerve of his body. "John, please..." Sherlock gasped. He thrust his hips up, groaning as John sucked harder, his hands squeezing his thighs as they moved down. When he felt a finger press gently against his hole, Sherlock whimpered with the need to be filled. "John, hurry." Sherlock panted. He spread his legs further apart, silently begging John, wanting more than what he was going to give him. "I-I need you." Sherlock gasped.
John closed his eyes, groaning as he resisted the temptation to give Sherlock exactly what he wanted. He wanted nothing more than to get undressed fully, slide up and over the body beneath him, and press inside the tight, warm heat that was Sherlock. He wanted it more than anything but knew it would be unfair to them both if he couldn't
stay. So instead of responding, John slid a finger into the tight, fluttering hole in front of him, pressing gently, not wanting to hurt Sherlock. When his finger slid in up to the second knuckle, John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this, he could get Sherlock off with out going any further.
"John..." Sherlock moaned, he tried to control his breathing as John pressed another finger inside him. The pressure making him gasp, his hands clenching in the sheets as he tried to remain still. Sherlock groaned in frustration, he wanted more...more than just John's fingers and more than his mouth. He wanted to feel John inside of him, to have John take him apart then put him back together again. He wanted...
"Oh, god John...please." Sherlock panted weakly. He was already on the edge and as much as he wanted John, the need to come, to escape the coil of pleasure tightening around him was stronger. His body demanded release, the only kind he could achieve from the hands of his blogger, his best friend...the only man he would ever truly love. It wasn't until he felt John hollow his cheeks and add another finger did he finally let go. The orgasm had been just on the edges of his senses and now...now it was wrapping him in a warm blanket of pleasure. The release was just within his grasp, teasing the edges of his senses. Sherlock moaned, the sound echoing around the room as his hips pressed down. "John..."
John took as deep a breath as possible, groaning as Sherlock's hips moved in time with his fingers and mouth. He knew Sherlock was close, could feel the tension in his muscles as the orgasm raced through the pale body. Letting Sherlock's cock fall from his mom with an obscene pop, John raised up and over the man beneath him. Leaning forward, he whispered in Sherlock's ear how much he loved him. Loved the feel of him, how he tasted. John told Sherlock of how much he dreamed of him, wanted him, missed him. Told him it was heaven when they were together and hell when they were apart. When John felt the tight hole around his fingers throbbing, he twisted the digits until they brushed Sherlock's prostate and the reaction was instantaneous. John watched as the flushed, writhing man on the bed fell apart. "That's it Sherlock, let it go love. I'm right here, I'll always be here no matter what." John panted softly. He raised his other hand, wrapped it around Sherlock's cock and squeezed. When Sherlock let out a loud moan, John moved to catch it. Covering the cupid's bow shaped mouth with his own, he swallowed the sound as Sherlock's hips thrust up into his hands. The small needy noises were driving John wild with the need to come but he forced back the urge. Choosing to focus solely on Sherlock and his pleasure. John plundered Sherlock's mouth as he hands worked on his cock and thrust in and out of his hole. It wasn't until he'd felt Sherlock stiffen that John pulled back. Looking down into the flushed face, John whispered encouragement to his lover. "That's it, come for me Sherlock. Let me help you ease the tension, show me..." John breathed. He watched as the orgasm hit Sherlock hard, the pleasure in the ice blue eyes was more than John could have asked for and the sweetest sight for John's tired soul to see. He listened to the broken gasps, the soft whimpers that left the long, pale throat as Sherlock struggled to keep as quiet as possible. "Come for me, Sherlock, please."
Sherlock arched up, his body tightening in pleasure as he struggled not to cry out in ecstasy. "John," Sherlock panted. He could hear John's voice, heard the encouraging endearments that left his lips. His body tightened as the orgasm moved through him, robbing him of his breath. Moaning out loud, Sherlock let go, his head fell back against the pillows as pleasure surged forward in one giant wave. Cresting then crashing over him as he shivered and shook, his hands clenching tightly in the sheets as his hips moved up then down. Straining to escape the tight coil wrapped around him, Sherlock gasped when John's mouth replaced his hand around his cock. "N-no, John, y-you must..." Sherlock broke off when John hummed, moving his head up and down, sucking every drop he could from Sherlock's oversensitive body.
John didn't stop, looking up the tall body, John continued to use his tongue and mouth to turn Sherlock into a quivering mass of need. Moaning again around the cock in his mouth, John licked the tip the slid all the way down, humming when he felt Sherlock hit the back of his throat. John repeated the action three more times before Sherlock was gasping with the need to come again.
Gasping harshly, Sherlock struggled to keep as silent as possible but couldn't hold in the small whimpers of pleasure. "John...John..." Sherlock chanted his name as he came again, this time in John's mouth and harder than before. His body tightened then went limp as he emptied himself into the mouth wrapped around him. Shaking and sated, Sherlock tried to catch his breath as well as focus his gaze. He blinked rapidly, groaning when John let his cock slide slowly out of his mouth and gently removed his fingers from his body. Turning his head slowly, Sherlock watched as John left the bed then padded over to the bathroom.
"I'll be right back, don't move, ok?" John gave him a small smile, trying to ignore the insistent erection throbbing in his pants. He wanted to crawl back in the bed and slide into Sherlock's hot, willing body. To ease the ache for the man in the bed but he didn't, instead John walked to the bathroom, picked up a flannel and wet it. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down his racing heart as well as his raging libido. "This is good, this is is very good." John whispered to himself, he knew that despite what he'd said, Sherlock was not in the right frame of mind to consent to anything. If they had done anything more, John knew he'd hate himself in the morning. So, after wetting the flannel and squeezing out the excess water, he walked back into the bedroom. His gaze immediately went to the bed, looking for Sherlock.
"You did not come, John." Sherlock said softly. He watched the man walking out of the bathroom. Could tell by the bulge in his pants that he was still hard but couldn't understand why John hadn't wanted to go further. "A-are you angry with me, have I done something wrong?"
John looked at Sherlock, surprise on his face. "What, god Sherlock, no you haven't done anything wrong." John walked back towards the bed. "As much as I would like nothing more than to finish this, we can't. I won't take advantage of you while doped up on whatever Victor gave you. That's something he would have done and I am not him. I love you and that means I'll do everything I can to take care of you." John said softly as he cleaned the mess off of Sherlock. "Even if I have to deny myself but that doesn't mean I'm angry at you, Sherlock. I just wouldn't be able to look in the mirror at myself knowing what I'd done."
Sherlock looked up at John, "Then would you stay until I fall asleep? I-I know you should go but..."
"I'll stay until you fall asleep, Sherlock. Anything you need, remember?" John tossed the flannel back into the bathroom. He looked through the dresser drawers for a pair of boxers then crawled back into the bed next to Sherlock. "Put these on, I'm sure Ford will be in later to make sure you're ok and we can't have you caught unaware." John smiled at the blush that covered Sherlock's face. "Come here love, let me hold you while you fall asleep."
Sherlock pulled his boxers on then moved closer to John. "Thank you, John. I understand you do not have to stay but it is appreciated." Sherlock whispered in the dark. He draped an arm across John's waist as a yawn escaped him. "I love you as well, Captain John Hamish Watson."Sherlock said sleepily.
John smiled down at the curly head laying on his chest. "And I love you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes. More than anything in the world." John listened as Sherlock hummed his pleasure at John's response then promptly drifted off to sleep. He couldn't help running his fingers through the dark curls, enjoying the way they wrapped around his fingers. He remembered Victor referring to Sherlock as heaven's angel. "If that was heaven then it looks like hell's demons have decided to take over. I won't lose you again, Sherlock, not to another madman bent on revenge. I wouldn't be able to survive that, not a second time." John whispered desperately. He was sure Sherlock was sleep, could hear the even cadence of his breath. Trying not to dislodge the man lying on top of him, John slowly eased off of the bed, looking back once. He didn't want to leave Sherlock but he needed to get back to the flat and make sure that Mary was ok. Despite how things were going, the possibility that the baby could be his was still very real and he didn't want anything to happen to the child. Sighing in resignation, John gathered up their clothing, making sure that he placed Sherlock's things where he could find them, got dressed then left the room as silently as possible. He was startled to find Emilie standing in the doorway of the sitting room, watching him.
"Is he alright? I-I've not seen him look like that in years." Emilie watched John as he walked towards her. She didn't miss the flushed face nor did she miss the tenseness in John's shoulders. "He rambles when he's high, makes lists too." At John's look of surprise she gave him a sad smile. "I've known him long enough, seen him at his worse. The things he's done and gone through weren't pretty but he worked hard to put all of that behind him and now..."
"Now Victor has put all of that in danger." John finished softly. "Do you love him?" John couldn't help blurt out the question. He still wasn't convinced that he wasn't going to lose Sherlock to the tall, beautiful woman in front of him. "I-I mean, you two are close and he's never told me about you or Ford."
"He wouldn't for safety reasons, well for Ford's safety I can take care of myself but Ford..." Emilie glanced behind her then turned back to John. "Come, Dr. Watson, let's have a talk, shall we?" Emilie grabbed her coat, waved to someone behind her then turned back to John.
John squared his shoulder's, they should have done this a long time ago but hadn't been able to. "Ok, where shall we go?"
"Feel like getting a drink?" Emilie smiled at the man in front of her. "Sam is going to stay here with Mycroft, Greg, Aveline, and Ford. Clint will be joining us." At John's wary look she laughed, "Don't worry John, Clint looks dangerous but he truly isn't. Not without his bow and arrows and a scowl on his face."
"Hey, just so you know, I can still hear you!" Clint shouted from the other room.
Emilie laughed, the sound light but strained. "Are you ready, we can't be out to long, Dr. Watson needs to get home."
John flushed, he'd rather stay if he were honest but Emilie was right, he did need to get home. "I'll be back tomorrow, if that's ok?"
Emilie smiled, "Of course, John. Shezza would truly be hurt if you did not. Now, let's go have a drink and talk for a bit. I'll have Clint make sure you get home safely." Emilie handed John his coat then headed down the stairs.
"You know, you could do worse in your choice of friends. She actually likes you or she wouldn't be doing all of this."
John looked up at the soft tenor, "She loves Sherlock, that's why she's doing this, for Sherlock and Ford." John watched as Clint walked towards him.
"Yeah but if she didn't like you she would have put you out when she got here. You don't have to worry though about her and Sherlock. She loves him but she's in love with Sam." Clint whispered and gave John a wink at the incredulous look on his face. "Come on, I'll let her explain it to you then you can decide for yourself." Clint looked behind, a frown on his face. "Ave, you'll be ok for a few, right? No extra heavy lifting or running after people taller than you and don't forget to eat, please."
"Get out dad or I may have to tell mom you're harassing me." Aveline stated with a soft laugh. She gave Clint a soft kiss on the cheek, "Be careful please."
"I'll see you when we get back." Clint gave her a light hug then pulled away. Turning to John, he gave him a quick grin. "Ready, Dr. Watson?"
John nodded, the group in the front room made him wonder how well they knew each other. Is this the group that Sherlock had once been a part of? John took a deep breath and followed Clint down the stairs. "As ready as I'll ever be." John looked back once to find Aveline watching them, at her small wave, John gave her a small salute and head nod. He wasn't sure what to think about their new guests but if they could help them end this faster, then he was willing to listen to who he needed and do what was asked, all for the right to finally be with Sherlock.