To say that Sherlock was a menace for the next few days would be an understatement. He seemed more determined than ever to drive John away now that he realized his medical records and his drug habit wouldn't accomplish it. He smoked almost excessively and cigarettes kept appearing regardless of how many times John binned them. He played the violin loudly at all hours of the day and night and when he wasn't playing the violin he was performing experiments in the kitchen that caused noxious fumes that required the windows to be open at all times. He refused to eat, sleep, bathe or take care of himself in general. He also refused to talk to John as he stomped around the living room acting as if the other man wasn't even there. Even though John refused to leave his side. It wasn't that he was afraid of being kicked out. He knew Mrs. Hudson or Mycroft would let him back in regardless of the time.
It was the fact that he could see that Sherlock was pushing himself to the breaking point as he desperately tried one final act to push John away and he needed to be there when Sherlock finally broke. So he sat on the couch or in his chair watching Sherlock or reading or taking catnaps as the silence allowed as he missed shifts at the clinic. His job hung by a thread as it was and he fully expected to be fired once this was over. For some reason that didn't bother him. He had plenty of money thanks to Sebastian's generous payment for their case. He would also earn more in the future working alongside Sherlock. He did worry about his medical license, though. In order to keep it, he had to actively work at a clinic or a hospital for a certain amount of time as well as go to medical conferences. That was a problem for another day though. Right now, his main focus was the mad man who was currently storming around the living room signing to himself. A cough broke the silence and caused Sherlock to pause. John looked up at him as he refrained from mentioning that Sherlock should stop smoking. The last time he dared to bring it up, Sherlock had chain-smoked for the next half an hour straight without a break. By the end, he was wheezing slightly and John feared he was going to give himself nicotine poisoning but having proved his point he went back to smoking less frequently. The coughing done, he went back to his storming around the living room. Making his way over to John he took his book from him throwing it across the room.
"Hey, I was reading that," John snapped. Sherlock glared at him. Signed something that John was positive was rather rude before storming off again making sure to stomp on the book as he went. John took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose silently reminding himself that he cared deeply about that man. Finally, pulling himself to his feet he made his way over to where his book now lay and bent over to pick it up. Before his hand could connect, Sherlock kicked it towards the staircase. John straightened up looking at Sherlock who stared right back at him. "I'm sorry, were you upset I was no longer watching your little tantrum."
"I'm not five, John," Sherlock responded.
"Sure about that are you?" John wondered. "Because from where I am standing it looks like you have been throwing a fit for the last three days because I refuse to leave and you haven't accomplished anything. I am still here and I will still be here regardless of how long this goes on. So if you want me to watch you rather than enjoy my book then fine." John didn't wait for Sherlock to respond as he flopped back into his chair. He leaned back crossing his arms slightly as he stared at Sherlock as if he were watching a television program. Sherlock narrowed his eyes in confusion obviously not expecting John to back down so easily. His fit grew worse for the next hour as he trashed the living room as John sat watching him and didn't lift a finger to stop him. Books were flung everywhere, papers scattered on the ground, the top of the desk was cleared and the drawers emptied. Finally, Sherlock stomped over to John. The fight was gone as he looked down at the man.
"I can't protect you," Sherlock informed him. Gone was the anger as he seemed to plead with John to understand.
"I don't expect you to protect me. In the military, my men and I looked out for each other. Bad things still happened, we still lost men and I treated more wounded than I care to count but I knew that I could always trust them to be there when I needed them. That is what I want with you. I want you to be by my side when I need you. To trust that no matter what happens I can rely on you as my partner and my friend," John explained. Sherlock nodded as he turned away briefly. For a moment, John thought he was going to go back to his fit as he scanned the room looking at the mess he caused but as he turned back, John barely had time to uncross his arms before the gangly man landed in his lap.
"I'm tired," Sherlock complained softly as John wrapped his arms around him holding him close.
"I bet you are. You haven't slept for over seventy-two hours now. So, how about you take a shower while I make us a small meal then we can climb into bed to sleep for a while. Then in the morning, we can clean this mess up while we have a long talk about your smoking," John told him. Sherlock nodded against him as he tried to curl up in John's lap. The chair wasn't big enough causing his legs to hang over but that didn't seem to bother him.
"We have to get up in order for you to shower," John informed him softly.
"I know," Sherlock whispered in return as he didn't try to stand up. John chuckled as he gently manhandled Sherlock to his feet. Sherlock seemed confused as the weariness he had been ignoring caught up to him forcing John to steer him towards the shower. He turned on the water to warm before leaving Sherlock to bathe. Returning to the kitchen, he made a simple meal of eggs and toast not knowing how much Sherlock would eat. He checked on Sherlock once during the process but the door was now locked as Sherlock still didn't trust John enough to be completely naked in his presence. That was fine as that level of trust would come eventually. For now, he was happy that he was able to see and hold Sherlock while he slept.
It was almost half an hour before Sherlock emerged again. He came out of his bedroom this time looking confused as he stood in his pajamas. He allowed John to lead him over to the table and he ate what little food was placed in front of him. John was both relieved and suspicious of his suddenly compliant behavior. It was as if a switch had been flipped and all of the energy drained out of Sherlock leaving him soft and cuddly while allowing John to move him as he needed. John took full advantage of it as he put the dishes in the sink then hauled Sherlock out of his chair and into his bedroom. There was no hesitation as Sherlock sunk down onto the bed allowing John to cover him with his thick comforter.
"Sleep well," John said as he turned off the light and started to close the door. He was exhausted as well and just wanted to climb into his own bed for a few hours before the chaos started again.
"You're not staying?" Sherlock wondered. His voice was soft but John could clearly hear the disappointment in his words. John smiled softly.
"Of course I am. Just let me go get changed and I will be right back," John promised. Hurrying as fast as his tired body allowed, he rushed up to his room changing into shorts and a vest. Going back down, he used the loo and brushed his teeth before returning to Sherlock's room. He fully expected the detective to be asleep but as he stepped into the room he could see tired eyes watching and waiting for him. He closed the door tightly then went over to the bed climbing under the blankets with Sherlock. Wrapping one arm around Sherlock's chest, he held him from behind as he pressed himself against his body. Sherlock sighed holding onto John's arm as he closed his eyes.
Both of them were asleep quickly and neither one noticed as Mycroft's men descended upon the place cleaning the mess in the living room and clearing Sherlock's experiments from the kitchen. During the three days, he had watched on fully expecting doctor Watson to reach his breaking point and leave. Yet, the good doctor had continued to surprise him as he stood by Sherlock's side even as Sherlock tried desperately to get rid of him. The least he could do is thank the man by cleaning up the mess as he knew his brother wouldn't be bothered. In the morning, Sherlock would have just ignored it choosing to flop on the couch and disappear into his mind palace as he left the mess for John to clean. The job done, the men left leaving as quietly as they came and Mycroft turned off the monitor to finally head home to the man he loved.