It's nothing to worry about

Chapter 4- Leave me alone (show me you care enough to stay)

"Freak!" Donovan shouted at Sherlock. It wasn't uncommon for Donovan and Anderson to gang up on Sherlock on a crime scene, especially if John wasn't there. But the DI didn't bother to interfere; Sherlock could hold his own ground and preferred to do so than for someone else to defend him.

"Sergeant Donovan, may I suggest you buy a thesaurus. It may help to widen your very limited vocabulary."

"Shut up freak!" Anderson retorted after a momentary hesitance on the part of you Donovan.

"Oh, Anderson, perhaps you would benefit from buying a thesaurus too. Though, it would be more financially viable if you shared one, maybe you could keep it at your house. I mean, she stays there enough. When your wife is away though, of course."

By this point Anderson was positively quivering with rage and Sherlock had a cocky smile on his face. This time it was Donovan's turn to take over the Sherlock-bashing. "At least we have people who care about us. Who do you have? You have no one; you're just a sad lonely man." The consulting detective gave a snort of derision.

"I have John," he stated simply.

"Really?" asked Anderson in a scathing tone. "What makes you think he won't drop you in an instant if he gets a better rate on a flat or makes friends with someone else? I know that if I lived with you that's what I'd do." A flash of hesitance and worry shot across his face but Donovan and Anderson were like sharks, they could sense fear.

Immediately he replaced any look of doubt he may have had with his usual cold, calculating and uncaring look but the Sergeant and forensic investigator saw it and they both knew that they had him. "To be honest I'm surprised he has stuck around for this long," Sergeant Donovan commented nonchalantly as she resumed whatever she had been doing before the shouting had started, Sherlock didn't care, he was no longer interested. Anderson and Donovan had caught a raw nerve and they knew it. "Nobody likes living with a freak, especially not one as messed up as you." Sherlock backed up a little at this, was that really what John thought of him? He knew that everybody else thought that but he thought John was different. John was his friend, wasn't he?

"What's wrong freak, where's your boyfriend or has he abandoned you to?" Anderson demanded in sick pleasure. He was enjoying their new found power over the detective. Despite being slightly shorter than the man Anderson approached him threateningly and Sherlock, who was suddenly not feeling himself, backed away. He felt the sadden urge to escape the repulsive man.

"He's my friend," muttered Sherlock, just as much for his reassurance as to inform Anderson of this fact. Sally looked up from what she was doing and smiled. The usually cocky detective was almost backed up against the wall and she knew it would only take a little more to push him over the metaphorical edge. She walked over to where Anderson was standing and took her place next to him. "What was that Freak? You didn't sound very confident there. Are you sure he's your friend because if I were you I wouldn't get your hopes up. I've heard him talking to Lestrade whilst you're distracted and I'm pretty sure friends shouldn't be saying that about each other." Now the younger man was up against the wall and there was a horrified look plastered on his face. Donovan put her hand on his shoulder in a mock-comforting way causing the detective to freeze. "Face it Freak, John would be better off without you."

"What the hell is going on in here?" demanded the unusually angry voice of one DI Lestrade. The two Scotland Yard employees immediately backed off and Sherlock darted past Lestrade, knocking into him on the way past, but not bothering to stop. Lestrade turned a glare towards the two members of his team. "I don't know what happened in here but I fully intend to find out. It took years for him to trust anyone and if the two of you have ruined that you're going to have John Watson and me to answer to. I'm going to go and find him now. I hope you two realise how unprofessional you have been. You're off the case. Go back to Scotland Yard and wait in my office. I'll meet you there as soon as I know he isn't going to do anything stupid."

Lestrade hurried out of the building and was relieved to see Sherlock standing outside. He had been afraid that the younger man would have run off and hidden himself away somewhere. If Sherlock wanted to hide the only person who had any chance of finding him was Mycroft and Lestrade wanted to keep the power-obsessed older brother out of the situation at all costs. The DI gave the consulting detective a quick once-over with his eyes. He had regained his cold and aloof exterior but there was something not quite right with the man and Lestrade knew it, even if he couldn't put his finger specifically on what it was. "Come on Sherlock, we'll get you back to Baker Street." Sherlock nodded and followed the older man into the back of one of the police cars. "Could you take us to Baker Street?" the DI asked the constable who was driving who nodded and sped off.

A couple of times Lestrade tried to get out of Sherlock what had happened but the younger man wasn't having any of it. He just rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window and stared out. In the end Lestrade sighed and dialled John's number. "Hello Greg?" John answered a few seconds later.

"Hi John, I was just wondering if you were in the flat."

"Um, yeah but I'm about to go out and get some shopping. Why? Is everything alright?"

"I have no idea mate if I'm honest. We're on our way over, probably be with you in 5 minutes. Just make sure you're in when we arrive. I'll explain when we get there."

The five minutes it took to get to the flat were possibly the longest five minutes of Lestrade's life. Sherlock refused to talk and Lestrade could do nothing but stare at the younger man in concern. When they did finally arrive Sherlock ran straight out of the car and past John who had obviously been waiting downstairs for them. The doctor watched the detective as he went up the stairs and then turned his attention to the DI who was now standing in the doorway. "What the hell happened?" John asked with concern permeating his voice.

"I haven't got the full story yet but I will find out. We were on the crime scene and I left the room to see if anyone had done a background check of the victim. When I left Sherlock was doing whatever it is that he does and Donovan and Anderson were working. A couple of minutes later I heard shouting, nothing out of the ordinary there, but the shouting stopped quickly so I went up to check Sherlock hadn't knocked them unconscious or anything. It was quite the opposite I'm afraid. Anderson and Donovan had him backed up against the wall and he looked scared. I don't know what they said to him but trust me; the two of them are in a lot of trouble."

John nodded slowly trying to imagine what on earth Anderson or Donovan could have said that might have triggered such a reaction in his normally unemotional best friend. He came up with nothing. "Do you know what sort of thing might have elicited this reaction?" John asked Lestrade.

"Haven't the foggiest I'm afraid. I was kind of hoping that you'd be able to tell me."

"Right, well, I'll go and see if he's ok. If he tells me anything then I'll let you know, ok?"

"Thanks, I haven't got a word out of him since so don't get your hopes up."

The doctor closed the door as the DI left and sighed, this was not going to be easy but nothing ever was when Sherlock was concerned. Slowly he headed up the stairs trying to put off the inevitable. Sherlock was not on the sofa where he usually would be which was not a good sign. The next place to try was Sherlock's room. "Sherlock, are you in there?" he asked as he tapped gently on the door. No reply, not that he had really expected one. He opened the door. His friend was sitting on his bed staring at the wall opposite him.

"Are you alright mate?" John asked approaching him. Still no reply, not even a flicker of the eye to show Sherlock registered John's presence. This time John placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder to try to evoke a response and he got one. The younger man flinched violently from the contact and he sharply turned his face up to see John. When he realised who it was he relaxed slightly but there was obviously still some tension there, tension that he wasn't used to seeing in the man. "John, what are you doing here?"
"I just came in to see if you were ok."

"Hmm, what? Yes, I'm fine. You can leave now."

"Are you sure you're fine, you've been acting a little weird lately?" John asked, partly as a friend and partly as a doctor. He sat on the bed next to Sherlock.

"I'm ok, really. I just need to think." His voice sounded unsure.

"Sherlock, look…"

"Please John, I am fine. There is nothing wrong with me. So please, just leave me alone!" He sounded angry so John just nodded, stood up and left closing the door behind him.

There were noises coming from the kitchen, John was probably making himself a cup of tea. Sherlock sighed, the room felt inexplicably empty without the army doctor in there with him. He'd left so quickly, it was like he had no resolve, no desire to actually help him. Perhaps Anderson and Donovan were right, it would be the first time they ever had been, but it was always possible. What if John didn't really like him? It was probable; there were very few people who genuinely liked him, if any, and even fewer who could put up living with him. Normally this didn't bother him but it was a problem when John was involved.

He lifted a shaky hand and opened the top drawer of his bedside cabinet and lifted out the pen knife and slowly rolled up his sleeve. He laid the cool blade against his scar-littered alabaster skin and just held it there. Part of him was telling him to stop because John would not approve but the other part of him was telling him John didn't like him so wouldn't care. It was this part of him that won out in the end, causing him to press the blade into his skin and blood to pool around it. It was this moment John chose to knock on the door again. With practised speed Sherlock rolled down his sleeve and threw the knife under the sheet, out of sight.

John didn't bother waiting for an answer from the younger man, he walked straight in. "Look, I know that you wanted me to leave but I thought I'd make you a cup of tea. We're British so it's an unspoken rule that tea is the cure for anything." Sherlock took the steaming cup and gave John one of his genuine smiles as a way of saying thank you. Just before he left John leant on the doorframe and spoke to Sherlock. "You do know I'll listen if there's anything you want to tell me?" Sherlock nodded and John walked out of the room.

"John!" Sherlock shouted just before he shut the door.

"Yes?"

"We are friends aren't we?" Sherlock asked after convincing himself this was the only way of really knowing. He could always tell if John was lying.

"Yes, we are."

"Good, um yes, that's good. Thank you."

Thank you for reading. You all know the drill now. I wrote a chapter so I would be very, very happy if you were to write a review. 3