Hugs
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.
Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates.
John ran home from Harry's house. It was at least two miles but he ran anyway, and it was raining, his shoulder was sure to play up, but he kept on running. He needed his husband and he needed him now.
Sherlock had been stood at the window, playing the violin when he saw John running through the rain out in the dark. The consulting detective put his violin down and heard John enter 221B and then run up the stairs.
Sherlock turned to face the door that his husband would enter in a few moments.
John ran into the living room and stopped as soon as he saw his husband in his pyjamas and dressing gown.
"John?" Sherlock asked in concern and approached John slowly.
That moment, when John saw his husband and heard his comforting voice was when John broke. His barriers shut down and tears flowed down his cheeks.
"John?" Sherlock repeated.
John shook his head and took tiny steps towards Sherlock.
Sherlock took quick strides towards his army-doctor and embraced him. John didn't wrap his arms around Sherlock, he brought his hands up so they were bent between them and rubbing at his own eyes.
But Sherlock hugged John tightly, offering John as much comfort and love as he could.
John's legs gave out but Sherlock kept him up as the quiet crying turned into sobs, choking sobs that racked the strong soldier's body.
Sherlock gently started walking to the sofa, taking John with him.
He sat down and John sat on his lap and curled up, his head burying in Sherlock's neck.
One of Sherlock's hands ran through John's hair while another rubbed his back
"What happened, love?" Sherlock asked.
"Haven't you deduced it yet?" John said through sobs.
"I want you to tell me." Sherlock requested.
"W-well... I went t-to H-H-Harry's... and she was...drunk. She's b-b-back on the booze... b-b-but you see, Harry can be either a happy drunk or an a-a-aggressive, both physically and verbally, drunk. Clara's g-g-gone, so it was j-j-just us." John said, his arms wrapping around Sherlock's back tighter.
"She didn't hit you, I can see that. What did she say?" Sherlock asked gently.
John cleared his throat to compose himself so he could talk without the stammering.
"I've always looked up to Harry, her opinion always meant a lot to me ever since I can remember. She always stuck up for me at school, telling people that I wasn't a weirdo who didn't make friends too easily. Don't get me wrong, I had friends, I just never had many and not for long because I never found one who would like me always and who never broke my trust. So I guess the words hurt a lot more than if just a stranger had said them." John explained.
"What did she say, darling?" Sherlock asked.
"She just said that I was insane, I told her a few weeks ago about my recent PTSD attack. She said that I should be over the war by now, that I was stupid. Then she said that you were a f-f-freak and that I could have done better. But I don't want better. You are the best and I don't want anyone else. You're perfect to me, no-one else even comes close. And then she said that those kids were right and she never should have stuck up for me, she said I was a freak too." John said.
"You're not though, John. And you're not insane. If you put her out in a war zone and put her through what you went through out there and I can almost guarantee that she would have come off a lot worse mentally. She's scared. When she's sober she's scared for you, because she doesn't want you to have to experience your PTSD attacks because she knows how scared you get. And we're only scared of things we can't control or understand. When she's drunk she's worse because the alcohol confuses her and makes her scared of you and your attacks. So she lashed out. She didn't mean it, John. Love; as you've told me before, she isn't the real Harry when she's drunk. You are an amazing person and everything she said was wrong." Sherlock said passionately.
John gave a small smile and kissed Sherlock's neck and said "Thank you."
"Come on, let's get you out of this cold clothing, then I'll get you some ibuprofen for your shoulder, yes, John I know it's hurting, we can either go straight to bed or bring the duvet down here and watch your new box set of Doctor who. How does that sound?" Sherlock asked and then added "And I'll make tea."
John gave a small giggle and nodded.
Sherlock stood and took hold of John's hand, leading him to their bedroom where he helped John out of his clothing and into some nice pyjamas. He then took the duvet downstairs and put it on the sofa where John crawled under and snuggled in.
Sherlock gave John a glass of water and a pain relief tablet. Once John swallowed it he went to the kitchen to boil the kettle and make two mugs of tea. John got the remote and turned the DVD player on.
Sherlock returned and went to the DVD shelf, getting the new Doctor Who box set out and putting the DVD in. Once everything was set up Sherlock gave John his tea and then joined him under the duvet, snuggling close to him.
"I love you." John said and kissed Sherlock's temple.
"I love you too." Sherlock replied.
The next day they awoke in the same place with the TV playing the doctor who titles again and again.
Then there was a knock on the door.
Mrs Hudson could be heard answering it, so John fell back into Sherlock's arms. Sherlock lay on his back with John on his chest.
Footsteps came upstairs and Sherlock recognised them and his grip on John's back tightened.
Harry entered, sober from last night. John saw her as he put his head at an angle and he turned his face to the back of the couch.
"I don't want you here, Harry." John said.
"John, I'm so sorry, Clara came back just after you left and took the drink away, so I'm sober and I remember what I said to you, I'm sorry, John, I'm so sorry." Harry apologised.
"He doesn't want you here." Sherlock said and ran his fingers through John's hair to keep his husband calm.
"Please, I didn't mean it." Harry urged, not moving.
"What didn't you mean? I've heard that alcohol can be like truth serum in a way. I'm insane, am I? I'm a freak whose married to a freak, am I? I'm stupid, hmm?" John asked, finally turning his face to look at Harry.
"No, you're not, you're not, John. Please, you have to believe me! I love you, you're my brother and I think you're the bravest man in the world. And in my opinion I'm the stupid one out of us two." Harry said.
"You're not stupid, Harry." John sighed; he hated hearing Harry putting herself down.
"I'm really sorry, John. I promise, I'm going to an AA meeting tonight and if you don't want to see me any more... then I understand." Harry said sadly.
John pushed up and off of Sherlock, who sat up as John stood and walked to his sister and gave her a hug.
"Just... please, try your best not to get back into the drink again. I know you didn't mean it. And I never want to break ties with you. I was just a bit upset at what you said." John explained and pulled away.
Harry gave him a small smile.
"Well, I'll just be going then. Still mad about doctor who then, Johnny?" she asked with a smile at the screen.
"Of course!" John exclaimed and smiled.
They smiled at each other and then John said "Take care of yourself. You know if you need help I'm here."
She nodded, kissed his cheek and then left with a wave to Sherlock and an apologetic smile for her hurtful words about him last night. He just gave her a courteous nod.
John rejoined Sherlock on the sofa "Thank you for last night." John said and gave Sherlock a quick kiss.
"No problem." Sherlock replied.