Title: Of Rats and Men
Chapter: Truths
Place: University; Hospital; Pub
Characters: John Watson; Sherlock Holmes
Mood: Angry; Mournful; Sad
Warnings: Character Death
John jumped at seeing Sherlock storm in, so much for farewell. He couldn't help but smile, glad to see him again. "Hey Sherlock, you alright?" He tried to sound as casual as possible.
"Obviously." Sherlock muttered, his face pressed into his pillow, in a childish attempt to either disappear, or strangle himself.
"So much for farewell or whatever." John laughed gently, sitting up and looking at his dorm mate, glad he was ok.
"I said I have to stay until I talk to Jim. Thought it would take longer." Sherlock shrugged, as much as that was possible in his position. "We talked, I left. Richard is still alive.. End of story." The 'for now' that kept on running trough his mind was left unsaid.
John. I am back in dorm - they called from hospital, Richard didn't make it. Greg is with me. -MH
Didn't make it? Sherlock just got back, they said he's fine.. JW
John got out of bed, "Come on. We're going to Molly's." His heart sank. "Looks like you were wrong. Richard's dead.." It was hard for him to say, he wanted to scream but he knew he had to be strong. Richard had been his best friend for years.
That made Sherlock raise his head from the pillow, his eyes opened wide. What? But - oh. He couldn't quite stop himself from grinning, but at least covered his mouth for John not to see. John would punch him if he did. "I see." he muttered, talking more to himself than to John. "So it wasn't intentional.. but he used it in the end. But who pushed him?"
They just called.. He.. died about ten minutes ago. Wrong medicaments or something, I don't know.. Are you k? -MH
Greg says you to say to Sherlock, he is supposed to take care of you and make you tea. -MH
John tried to keep a straight face, but he felt like his heart had been torn out. Richard. His friend. The happy go-lucky actor. He shook his head, putting his jacket on, keeping his composure. He couldn't say anything, scared he'd break down. Richard. Bricksy.
I'm ok. Are you Molly? I'm coming over. JW
Not ok, stay home, Greg's here - we will be fine. -MH
Sherlock looked at the other male, for the first time thinking that John might actually be affected by the 'death', because a) he and 'Richard' had been friends and b) he didn't know Jim was still alive actually. He cursed himself for not thinking about that earlier, when he noticed John tapping at his phone. Probably to either Lestrade, Hooper or his stupid girlfriend. And he looked ready to break down, that wasn't good.
Sherlock hesitantly stood up, unsure of what to do - more so when John looked as if leaving. He couldn't help him if he left, could he. "Where are you going, John?" he asked, frown on his own forehead as well.
John sighed, holding back his tears and shook his head. "N-nowhere.." He sat back on his bed, head in hands, trying to be strong. "Lestrade says you have to make me a cup of tea.." He tried to sound as lighthearted as he could despite everything.
Sherlock blinked at him for a couple of heartbeats, before the words finally caught up to his brain, and nodded resolutely. "Wait." he instructed and skipped into the kitchen, putting a cattle on. He pulled out a mug and John's Earl Gray, before deciding not to make that one. That was Jim's tea, not John's. He instead opted for a herbal tea, that was said to be calming.
Few uncomfortably silent minutes later, he handed the tea to the older male, sitting next to his legs on the floor and leaning against the bed.
"Thanks.." He muttered, just holding the tea, trying to focus on the liquid and forget everything. Over 5 years he was best friend John had ever had. He didn't know what to say anymore. He took a sip, his breath shuddery. He wouldn't cry though.
Sherlock was watching him carefully. He cursed himself for not knowing how to help - he should have read some books on that, it could have been useful. But John was so tense. Sherlock sighed and leaned his head against John's thigh, thinking about what to say - the 'it will be all right' would just be stupid, because it won't, since John's - obviously - best friend just died, so he opted for the cliché "He is not really dead, you know..", muttered in a soft voice.
Well, Sherlock guessed, it was the truth after all.
"What d'you mean..? Of course he's dead." John frowned, rubbing his forehead. Was this some stupid way to make him feel better? He appreciated it, but it wasn't working.
"Well, the saying.." he started awkwardly, moving away from John with a frown. "That people aren't dead as long as you don't forget them." Not even talking about the fact that the man you knew as Richard, is actually still alive. And probably quite angry.
"Don't be ridiculous. He's dead, Sherlock. Dead and he's not coming back! So stop it. Just sto-." He didn't mean to raise his voice but he was so worked up, his voicd failed him towards the end. "Stop. Please Sherlock."
Sherlock nodded, moving to sit on his own bed. Why was it that every time he tried to do the right thing – for John - it went horribly wrong? He drew his knees beneath his chest and stared at the older, waiting to see if he would break down, or talk, or just stay unmoving.
John took another shuddery sigh, his eyes burning away. "I'm..sorry. I shouldn't have snapped there." He ran his hand through his hair. "Thanks..for the tea and everything Sherlock."
"There is nothing to thank for, as I didn't do anything." Sherlock pointed out. "Do you want to.. 'talk about it'?" he quoted another saying he often heard people saying to others when distressed.
"No no..thanks though. I..just wanna.. I wanna go on a walk." He stood up, putting his tea on the side. "Won't be long." John put his coat on and walked out quicky, wiping his tears away.
Sherlock frowned at that and ran after him, as he was still in his shoes and long-sleeved shirt. He debated catching up to John to walk with him, but decided against it and just followed steadily few steps behind, careful not to be seen.
John kept his head down as he walked, trying his hardest to stop the tears streaming down. He didn't like to cry. He didn't want to cry or let anyone see him cry let alone Sherlock. He wiped the ones on his cheeks away, quickening his pace.
It's ok. Do not cry. -
John stopped, looking at his phone. Who the hell was that?
Who is this? I'm not. JW
You are. Do not worry. Do not cry. -
John turned around, looking for the texter.
Can you see me? JW
It's ok. -
Sherlock leaned against a door frame, partially hid from John's sight when the other turned around. He looked confused. Confused and surprised and a bit lost, but Sherlock decided not to question it. John obviously didn't want to talk to him, so he will just follow to make sure he was fine.
He absently wondered if Jim kept Richards old phone and sent him a message to see if he would answer.
My condolences. -SH
What do you mean, ok? JW
It does not matter. What matters is that you are ok, John. -
Who the hell is this? JW
Think of me as your guardian angel. -
John sighed irritably, not needing this. He marched ahead, wiping his tears.
Stop this. JW
I am afraid that I cannot. I am here to help you, John. -
I don't want help. JW
You need it. -
John was walking faster now and Sherlock had to half-jog to keep up with him, however he still managed to stay covered. He didn't really fancy getting punched by angry and embarrassed John. And no response from 'Richard', so the phone probably staid with the 'body'. How dull. He would have to get Jim's contact any other way, or just wait those 5 years.
Much appreciated. JM
John sighed, walking still. He sat down on a bench nearby, just trying to calm down. Maybe he should try and text Sarah?
Hey there Sarah, how're you doin? JW
Don't ignore me John. -
Why should I talk to you? JW
I'm trying to help you. -
I DON'T WANT HELP JW
Your angel is here John. It is ok. -
[to Watson, John:]John! You didn't write yesterday, I thought you were too busy. :( I am fine. Bored. You? What about your exam? -SS
[to Brooks, Richard:] Still smart enough? -SH
Sorry, I was in hospital. Richards dead Sarah. I'm sorry. JW
Dumb enough to level you. You are an idiot after all. Everyone is. JM
Delighted. -SH
Fuck, what? When and how? -SS
Pushed of diving board, smacked head off the floor. In hospital, given wrong meds and died. A massive shame. He was a great guy. JW
Anyways. As much as I 3 our boring conversations. I'm busy. Don't bother texting this number again. xx JM
Sherlock grinned and put the phone back into his pocket. John was still walking away, probably aimlessly, and was nearing those parts of campus Sherlock didn't think wise to visit at night. With a sigh, he fished the cell back from his pocket and tapped a message to John.
Come back home. -SH
Yes, that's.. were you in the hospital? You should have taken me with you. Do you know anything about the funeral? When or where or something? -SS
No idea about the funeral. Sorry, everything just happened so quickly. I'm still in shock. Sorry. xx JW
John sighed upon getting the text from Sherlock, realizing he should head back.
On my way, mother. JW
He started walking back to the dorm, wanting to collapse in bed.
Do not return back to Sherlock Holmes. Please stay out here. For a while longer. -
Why? JW
I like to see you. You amuse me. You are simple. I need that. -
He increased his pace, starting to get worried and quickly ran to the dorm, running in and shutting the door behind him.
Sherlock lost John for a moment when the older quickened into a jog - while he would like to think it was because of him; to get to the dorm as soon as possible, he doubted it, something was seriously wrong with John - so he arrived to the dorm few minutes after him, having stopped to light a cigarette to have a good reason to be out. In only his shirt. "What's wrong, Watson?" he asked carefully, slipping off his shoes.
I see.. If you know something, let me know.. I will get back tomorrow morning, can't stay home. -SS
Alright, be safe x JW
"I've got some weirdo texting me. I don't know how, I don't know why but they were watching me and Greg today and they were watching me on the walk." He looked at Sherlock, slightly panicked, frowning at his cigarette. "Richards dead. I'm worried about you going the same way! This is all too much."
"You are the one going into a war zone." Sherlock commented a bit bitterly, thinking that John didn't really have any right to be worried about him, since he wanted to leave anyway. "And Jim won't kill me yet and anyone else -" he grinned widely, an insane light appearing in his eyes. "They would get it from him, if they did." he moved closer to John, towering over him with the same expression on his face still, and reached into his pocket for John's cellphone.
John looked up at the taller other, unused to the close contact and blinked rapidly. "Wh-what the hell are y-?" He shut up when Sherlock took his phone, having no objections to it. "The guy's crazy. Absolutely mental.."
"Obviously." Sherlock snorted. He narrowed his eyes at the John's reaction to his closeness and stepped away, fake smile on to calm him. He read the older messages as well, stopping at those labeled 'tW'. "Watson?" he asked tentatively, his grin growing wider and genuine. "You texted with Irene?"
"Irene?" He asked, confused, before remembering that name in the file about Moriarty. "Adler? I don't remember texting her.. D'you know who the freak is who's texting me?"
"No." Sherlock grinned and flopped onto his bed. "But 'tW' is Irene." he smiled serenely. "I thought you did read the files - Irene Adler, also known as the Woman. The ri-left hand of Jim Moriarty." he grinned wickedly and tapped a response to the 'tW' number.
Miss Adler - is Jimmy in relationship with his Right hand? :)) -SH
"Irene..the woman. Oh right yeah. She's a dominatrix right? That's what the report..said." He watched Sherlock text, feeling out of breath from the running, the adrenaline.
His right hand or his Right hand? ;) xxx I'm aware he had many relations with his right hand. TW
Sherlock read the message and tossed his head back, laughing. "Yes." he managed to get out trough his giggles. "Has quite nice sense of humor as well." he noted, sending John a wink. He passed the cellphone back to John.
John took his phone back, going back onto his own bed with a sigh. He laid down, looking up at the ceiling, eyes locked upwards. The day had just been so hectic. He shoved his head against the pillow.
He sighed as well, the previous good mood forgotten and lost, subsiding to worries. "What did you want to talk about anyway? When you sent me the message.." Sherlock asked, hoping the topic - whatever it was - would take John's mind off of Richard.
John cringed, not knowing what to say but decided he wasn't in the mood to beat around the bush. "That night we all went out. Did we have sex?" He turned over to look at him, serious.
Sherlock blinked, shocked, for a few seconds, the only thing running trough his mind being 'oh fuck'. And he normally didn't even curse. Though his face remained calm, a mask he had perfected long ago, and Sherlock raised an eyebrow, the tone of his voice mocking and confused. "No..? Should we have? I thought you were straight."
"I told Greg, I had a very..well..vivid dream. I thought it was odd but..he told me somethings, since he said if we weren't going to see each other again." His voice influxed, looking at him hopefully for any sign of truth. "He told me, that it wasn't a dream, Sherlock. I was plastered, I don't know what happened." He shrugged, admitting. "I thought I was straight too."
"What else did 'Greg' say, Watson?" Sherlock asked coldly, his eyes narrowed as he trained his eyes over the older male. He was going to kill Lestrade. He honestly was. And then he would have to make it look as an accident - thankfully he saw enough murders to probably be able to pull it off.
Hearing the coldness in his voice, John thought that they didn't need another death within their group. "Oh uhhh..nothing. I forgot. Completely. Something about uhh.." He tried to think about something about the man he already knew, "You and Lestrade sleeping together."
Sherlock barked a laugh at that. "You know you can't lie, Watson. What did he say." he repeated the question, purposely talking a bit more softly. Well, maybe not kill him, but redecorate his face a bit - hell yes!
"Don't kill him. Ok? He said..I know it's a lie but..uh.. He said..you like me?" He didn't look at him as he asked, looking at his hands. He could feel his heart beating rapidly as he asked.
"Oh fuck him." Sherlock cursed and jumped onto his feet. He normally never cursed, what the hell was wrong with him anyway? He blamed his hormones, since he was still technically a teenager. For few more months. Back to the matter at hand, he snapped at himself and stopped staring wide-eyed at Watson, moving over the room in few long strides. And of course he slammed the door shut - loudly - after himself, when he left, running away like a coward. Wouldn't Jim be pleased to hear that..
John was surprised entirely by Sherlock's reaction. He shouldn't have said it. John sprinted after the man, leaving everything as it was. "Sherlock!" He tried to catch up with the other. "Sherlock! Please wait!"
Sherlock disappeared into a dorm he knew to be empty, hoping very much John won't be able to find him there. Looks like he will be going along with the 'hide till Monday' plan after all. He jumped to sit on the window sill, lighting a cigarette to calm himself.
I am going to kill you, Lestrade. -SH
What did I do this time? -GL"
Sherlock! Sherlock come on.." John shouted as he walked past the dorm the other was in, unknowing. He went outside, trying to find him. Why did he run off like that?
There you aree, John. -
Not in the mood. JW
Sherlock's ran away. Run run run away. Coming back on Monday. -
Who the fuck are you and why are you doing this? JW
I am here to help. Friend. I can see you. -
John spun around, looking and trying go see if anyone was there, but they weren't. Giving up, he went back to his dorm.
Do not think you are safe there. -
Sherlock raised his arm and used his sleeve to rub his moist eyes. He was not going to cry, nope. He will just wait for John to leave and then it will be safe again.
Why the hell did you tell John? What for? -SH
He needed to know, idiot. And right now has more important things to worry about than you being a bitch. Go talk to him. -GL
Sherlock sighed and stood up, running out into the corridor. Because Lestrade usually knew what was best, right? "John!" he called after the retreating male.
Like? -SH
Like Richard being dead. -GL
He is not dead, can't be, since he never existed in the first place. But I guess you are all too stupid to get it. -SH
What d'you mean? JW
221-B. Do not think you are safe there -
He will burn you. Burn you both. I can save you. Your gaurdian angel. -
John spun around, relief washing over his previously panicked eyes. "Sherlock..there you are! Why'd you run off like that?" He approached the other properly.
Whatever. Deal with John. -GL
Sherlock looked at him, trying to look calm. What was that John said? I know it's a lie but.. He could use that - a lie. That sounds possible enough. "I was angry. I wish Lestrade would stop saying things like that, it's getting annoying."
"Oh.. Right." John nodded, a pang of dissapointment hitting him. "Greg, he was.. he was lying then? Just taking the mick?" He tried to ask as casually as he could, given their situation. He felt like an idiot. Had John just given his hopes up there..? "Uh.. Good. Good then. Wouldn't want things to uhh be awkward between us." John stated, licking his lips slightly out of habit, knowing the akwardness hung in the air regardless of what he said. He needed to change the subject. "A-any idea who this weirdo is?" John handed him the phone.
"I believe you already asked me - no, I don't know." Sherlock bit down the sigh of relief when John obviously believed him. That was good. And Lestrade was still an idiot. Utter and complete. "How are you doing? With J-Richard and all.." he asked carefully, leaning against the euter wall of the dormitory. Fishing up his cigarettes again, Sherlock offered one to John.
John took his phone back but refused the cigarettes with a shake of his head. "I'll be fine. It's..it's still kinda a shock. I'll get over it though..I just wish it didn't have to happen. That's life though." He started walking back to the dorm with Sherlock, "I just feel bad for Molly."
Sherlock, fancy dinner tommorow night? ;) tW
"Molly will be fine, Lestrade will take care of her." Sherlock absently commented, grinning down at his cell screen. He didn't respond, though, yet. "When is your girlfriend coming back?" he turned to look at John, disgust clearly coloring his voice.
"Uhh..tommorow morning, why?" He asked, not quite understanding why Sherlock was interested in Sarah. He had a problem with her obviously. "What's got you grinning like a cheshire cat?"
"Irene asked me out for a dinner." he grinned again. Tomorrow morning, hmm.. He wondered if the girl would feel the need to visit John when she arrives - probably yes, if what Hooper said about her was true. He would need to plan something. That will be fine, Sherlock's grin only widened.
"Oh." That's all he could find himself saying before he corrected himself. "Oh ok. You going? She's uhh..kinda dangerous though, right? Working for Moriarty and all." He opened the door to 221-B, stepping inside and sitting down on the bed.
"Irene is brilliant. Well, Jim's too. Not dangerous right now." he shrugged and moved to make a tea. "You want one?" he called at John, hesitating only for a second before preparing an earl gray for himself.
"Yeah, thanks. Just a normal tea." He sighed, leaning against the wall as he checked his phone. Obviously ignoring the weirdo wouldn't make him go away.
I have eliminated the threat. -
Threat? Did he mean Moriarty? He shoved it in his pocket, blocking the number. "Brilliant hm..? I think I can hear wedding bells. Someone Sherlock Holmes thinks is brilliant?"
"I am not going to marry either of them." Sherlock rolled his eyes, though John wouldn't be able to see him anyway. He poured the water into the two mugs and padded into their shared room, handing John's tea to him. "If only for the fact that Irene is gay and Jim is.." he stopped himself from saying 'in relationship with his right hand', since John wouldn't get the primar joke. "Jim is.. Jim is Jim." he shrugged.
He took the tea with a nod of thanks, raising a brow. "Jim is Jim? What do you mean by that?" John took a sip of his tea, sighing gently at it's soothing effect. "That's the same as saying Sherlock is Sherlock. Maybe Jim and Sherlock would work?" He didn't even know what he was saying.
Sherlock took a sip of his own tea, face screwing in disgust. "He likes Earl Gray." he muttered, shaking his mug, as if it explained everything. "And I like our relationship just as it is." he grinned. "What about you and.. her?" Sherlock realized he didn't even know her name. Or did he? Was it still the Sarah John went on date? Or not? "Is it.. serious?" he hoped it wasn't, though couldn't be sure.
"Richard practically lived off the stuff..never ate really. Constantly obsessed with his weight. Wanted to look good for his roles. We'd always tell him he looked fine. Had a yo-yoing problem in year 11." John shrugged, thinking back to his friend. "Never liked sports. Played all the lead roles in school productions. Loved the spotlight." He wasn't even aware he was talking at that point before snapping back to reality. "Hmm Sarah? I dunno. We only had one date. I wouldn't call it serious right now.
Sherlock nodded at the information about Sarah, caring more about the statement about Jim. Or Richard. He couldn't quite help but imagine the Jim he knew, standing in front of a mirror, looking all mournful about his looks. Sherlock laughed out loud, tossing his head back. It was just way too funny.
When he stopped laughing, he handed his mug of tea towards John. "Do you want this? I honestly don't like the Earl Grey.." he shrugged.
John frowned, annoyed that he was laughing but decided to ignore it. His best friend had just died and there was nothing funny about that. "No thanks. I..uhh.. I think I might wanna just go to sleep. It's been a long day."
"Right. Of course." Sherlock commented a bit moodily and retreated to the kitchen, pouring the tea into the sink. How could Jim even drink that? It was disgusting. "I will leave you to your sleep." he frowned, thinking that maybe he should sleep as well. After all, he had gotten only about two hours before John woke him up, and he was way past the dead-exhausted state.
"Thanks, Sherlock. I'm sorry for y'know.. Being an ass." John smiled gently, putting the cup on the side and heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He returned shortly, getting into bed. "G'night"
Sherlock soon followed suit, but even though he knew he had to be very exhausted, he woke up somewhere around two in morning, sweaty and panting. He hated nightmares. Moving out of his bed, Sherlock took quick shower and amused himself by plotting how to get rid or Sarah. In the end, he decided to go for the easiest way, and retreated back to his bed, facing the wall, and pretending to be asleep.