"Ouch, shit!" I hiss in pain when I accidentally burn my hand cooking.
Instantly, I rush over to the sink and run my hand under cold water.
Wait, I smell something burning...
I look at the food and see it burning.
No, no, no!
I jerk my hand out from under the water, and grab the food moving it off the burner.
Ouch, ouch, ouch.
I try to ignore my hands burning from the pan.
I set it down and return my hand, with the addition of the other, to under the water.
I burned food, I'd going to be in trouble.
When I hear the downstairs door unlock, I start panicking.
I haven't had time to make anything new... no, no, no.
I take my hands from under the faucet, dry them off and notice the burns on them.
Those are not good.
I go and wait at the door that enters into this flat.
I'm going to be in trouble.
The door into this flat unlocks and Jake walks in, looking tired.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock." Are the first words from his mouth.
"Nothing to be sorry for, Jake." I force a smile, still ignoring the burning in my hands.
"...Sherlock..." He looks around. "Did you cook and clean again?"
Was I not supposed to?
"... I'm sorry." I look away from him. "I burned it."
He follows me into the kitchen, and I point at the burned pan.
"Sherlock." He gasps.
"I'm sorry." I brace myself, but instead of an attack, he grabs my hand.
"Did you burn yourself?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burn everything." Words start pouring out while I try to apologize. Jake hold a hand up, silencing me and making me flinch.
"Come here." He leads me into the living room.
"Sit." He tells me to sit on the couch, I comply.
He disappears for a few seconds, and returns with the first aid kit.
"I'm going to take care of your hands, roll up your sleeves, please."
I feel uncomfortable at his request. I know what I did to myself isn't wrong because I did it to keep myself in line, but I still don't want him to see.
"Here." He starts rolling them up for me.
No, no, no.
He pauses partway up. I can hear his breathing accelerate.
"Sherlock... did you do this?" He motions at my bandaged arms.
"I..." Hesitantly, I watch him, waiting in a reaction.
"Let me see." He steels his expression, and rolls up both of my sleeves.
This may not end well.
He removes the bandages and upon seeing the cuts closes his eyes taking several deep breaths.
"Why did you do this, Sherlock?" His voice cracks with emotion, me opens his eyes and I see tears in them.
"Jake... I... it's..." How do I explain this?
"What did you use?"
I remain silent. I guess we're playing quiet. This is going to hurt worse than answering.
"I'm not mad, please, just tell me what you used."
"Razor blade." I look away in... shame? Why am I ashamed? What am I ashamed of? Myself...
"Where is it?" He sighs.
"My bedroom." Refusing to look at him, I answer his questions.
"Why?"
Why?
I glance up at him, wondering what he's asking me.
"It's okay to talk, why did you do this to yourself?" He's holding back tears.
I hurt his feelings.
"It keeps me in line, and it makes me feel better..."
He takes hold of my arm. I close my eyes and duck my head in anticipation for the pain sure to come.
I'm shocked when I feel a gentle hand lift my chin instead of a harsh punch.
"Look at me." Jake's voice is rough, yet soft at the same time.
Slowly, I open my eyes.
Is this a test? Is he going to make me watch whatever punishment he gives me? I hope he's fair with it... oh god, what if he takes my violin.
My eyes flick over to my violin that is sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
Allan burned my violin... will Jake burn this violin?
I don't want to lose it again, I can't lose it again.
Allan was doing what's best... Jake will do what's best as well.
But, I don't want to lose my violin.
"Sherlock, it's okay." Jake's words bring me back to the present.
"I'm sorry." I press my lips into a thin line and try not to cry. "Please don't take my violin."
"Never, I would never take it." He pulls my into him and hugs me tightly.
"I'm sorry I burned dinner."
"It's alright, I'm not mad, it's okay." He tries to reassure me.
"What are you going to do?" I pull away, missing the comfort, but knowing that I don't deserve it. looking at him with a mixture of apprehension and maybe a twinge of trust, I wonder his intentions and ponder my level of trust in him.
Do I trust Jake? I've only known him for a short periods of time... do I trust him?
Something inside of me tells me that I trust him, but another part of me says to never trust him.
"What do you mean?" He furrows his brows.
"I burned dinner."
"Yeah, and it's alright." He still looks confused.
"But... I burned dinner, it's normal practice for me to be in trouble for burning our food."
"What-, Sherlock, no..." He realizes what I'm saying and shakes his head no several times.
I watch him, wondering what he's thinking.
"It is not normal practice to be in trouble for burning food."
"Yes it is." I protest. "Allan says-"
"Sherlock." He cuts me off. "Listen to it like this, it's not normal practice to be in trouble for burning food anymore."
Oh.
"I have new rules?"
"Yes, you have new rules."
"I'm no longer in trouble for burning food?"
"No, you'll never be in trouble for that anymore."
"Can I close doors?" That is something I've missed.
"Of course, you can close doors as much as you want."
"Can I go outside?"
"Yes, you can go outside." He smiles.
"Do I still need to call you master?"
"No, you do not, and should not, call me master."
"Can I talk to people?"
"You can talk as much, and whenever you want."
"to anyone?"
"Yes, to anyone."
"Gererd?"
"Yeah, to Lestrade."
"Molly, and Mrs. Hudson?"
"Yes, them as well." His smile keeps getting bigger.
"Can I..." I shift anxiously.
"Can you what?" He looks patient.
"Can I solve cases?"
"Of course, there is nothing stopping you from solving every case that you want to." He chuckles.
I smile brightly, without forcing it, for the first time in forever.
I can solve cases!
However, just as quickly as the sun shone through, the darkness swept back in.
"What's wrong, Sherlock?" Jake's smile fades and he looks concerned.
"Do we still have to... um..." I feel my face heating up. "have... sex a lot?"
His face pales for a second, then turns red.
"No, god, no." He runs a hand through his hair. "You never, ever, have to do that with anyone unless you want to."
"But, the rules-"
"The rules are changed, remember?" he reminds gently. "You don't have to have sex with anyone unless you want to."
"Okay." I look down. I disappointed him.
"Sherlock." Jake's voice draws my attention.
"Mm-hmm?" I hum in response.
"You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"
"Mm-hmm." Once again, I hum in response.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Why won't you call me by my name?" He pauses then continues. "You know, by John."
"I'm not allowed to talk, think, speak to or about, John." I glance at him. "John would get hurt if I did."
"I'm John, Sherlock..."
"You're Jake, if you were John I would be in trouble..."
He is John.
No, he's Jake.
"How so?" he sounds interested.
"John would be angry that I burned food."
"Would he?" Jake's voice rings with an emotion I don't recognize.
"Yes."
"okay." I think the emotion is one expressing hurt.
"Jake."
"Yes, Sherlock?"
"Am I allowed to talk to John, now?"
"Yes." He breathes, looking relieved.
"Jake..."
"Yes?"
"Can I call you... John?"
"Of course, Sherlock."
"Thank you... John."
"You're more than welcome." He smiles once more.