The cab ride home was awkward and silent. John threw a few glances at Sherlock but received none in return, Sherlock probably noticed because the cabbie certainly did. Or maybe he was too much in thought. What if what John said really affected him? What if John had really, really hurt Sherlock's feelings this time?

All that guilt started building up and John wanted to get to Baker Street sooner than ever.
Once they arrived at Baker Street, Sherlock opened the door to the flat and they took off their coats in silence.

It was when Sherlock stood in front of the window and stared down at the street below that John finally lost his cool. "I'm sorry. For what I said before, I was angry and- I'm just. Well, sorry."

"It's all fine." Sherlock said quietly.

"No it's not because-"

"John, it's fine." Sherlock reassured by turning and smiling at John. John felt compelled to smile back but couldn't bring himself to. He knew it wasn't fine, because it definitely wasn't fine!
This man will be the death of me.

"What's going on with you, really?" John blurted. He wanted to take it back as soon as they made eye contact again, John saw a different kind of look in Sherlock's eyes, similar to the one he saw that day, if not, more intense.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.
He saw Sherlock scratching the back of his neck, but it wasn't a usual, every day scratch. It was hard, desperate, John was sure he was going to break the skin. Then it hit him and John wanted to punch himself in the face.

Withdrawal.

Of course it was drug withdrawal. Mood swings, itching, irritability.

John crossed the distance between him and Sherlock and put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, bringing up his other hand to ease Sherlock from scratching the back of his neck any more. Sherlock looked at him with confusion, then he seemed to recoil slightly at the intimacy between the two.

"Sherlock?"

"Didn't you say you wanted a shower?" Sherlock asked turning back towards the window and slipping his hands into his pockets.

John frowned, "no, I didn't."

"Oh." Sherlock sniffed.

And that was that. John looked around the living room before sighing quietly and leaving Sherlock alone. He did actually really want a shower, he assumed Sherlock realised this when he kept grimacing in the cab.

Damn John. Damn him to hell.

Sherlock paced the living room, scratching at the material covering his arms. He didn't mean what he thought, of course he didn't, it was just unnecessary anger bubbling to the surface. He just needed to stop and calm himself down.

No!

Except he couldn't calm himself down, not with the crawling sensation on his skin and the muddled thoughts playing tennis in his mind. He didn't need to stop and calm down, he needed-

He needed it. He paused and listened for the running water of the shower- how long had John been in there? Would I have enough time to search his bedroom?
Sherlock looked towards the bathroom door. He was about to dart up the stairs when he stopped himself. He promised John he wouldn't touch cocaine again, he didn't want to have to face John's disappointment when he finds out, because John would find out, it was only a matter of time.

His mind was conflicting itself and he was starting to get a headache, he felt lost. He wanted John, not the cocaine. It sounded absolutely ridiculous to him, but that was what his mind was telling him he wanted – no – needed.

A tap on his shoulder and he whipped around, almost knocking John into the wall. "What are you doing?" John asked giving a questionable look between Sherlock and the stairs. Thankfully he was wearing his pyjamas rather than just a towel or dressing gown. That would be undesirable in this moment of time.

Sherlock put his shaking hands in his pockets, looking down at John with as much strength as he could manage, now that he was thinking about it, he felt awful; exhausted, nauseas and irritated. This was John, he would see through everything. Sherlock never really gave him enough credit.

"Can't one admire the detail of the stairs?" Sherlock murmured.

John frowned, "well...yes, 'one can admire the detail of the stairs'. But why would one be admiring the detail of the stairs?"

Sherlock shrugged and walked back into the living room with John following. What was there to say? He couldn't lie to John, even if he's been lying for months about his feelings towards him, but how could he tell him?

Well there are many ways to tell him but no specific way would be considered. Why would John punish himself by having an intimate relationship with me?

Sherlock wasn't facing John – couldn't face John – when John crossed his arms. He could see the expression on his face from the corner of his eye and it didn't look pleased. It looked disappointed, concerned.

That both angered and saddened Sherlock.

John shouldn't be concerned about him, why should he worry himself with Sherlock's problems; John had problems of his own. Sherlock clenched his shaking hands into fists.

"You know I didn't throw it away, don't you?" John's voice was tight and it made Sherlock tense. Since when did I become so concerned with John's thoughts? But Sherlock knew he wasn't concerned, so to speak. He was almost obsessed.

"John, you-"

"And you were going to get it, weren't you? While I was in the shower?" John's voice rose, "You waited until I wasn't around so you could use that dirty stuff again. Why, Sherlock, why?"

Sherlock mentally flinched. This was ridiculous, he shouldn't be so involved with somebody else's feelings, not even his own. He wasn't supposed to feel at all. Why was he feeling this way?

"Answer me, damn it!" John said angrily, turning Sherlock around forcefully to face him.

"Yes!" Sherlock yelled suddenly, his head throbbing in pain. "Yes, I was going to search through your bedroom to find the cocaine, yes I was going to inject it into my veins because I need it, John, I need it more than anything." Sherlock pointed to himself, "your tiny brain couldn't possibly understand how much of a problem it is to not have that one little thing that keeps it sane. Without it, I am not sane, I feel like I'm losing myself, like I'm lost, and you don't understand, John, not one bit."

Sherlock sat down on the sofa and put his head in his hands, breathing heavily. Why was this all so distressing?

John stared down at Sherlock on the sofa, speechless. He should have expected an outburst like that, but honestly? He wasn't. Sherlock was a man of few words, except when he was on a crime scene. He was never one to discuss his feelings, especially with John.

"I know its withdrawal." Sherlock said quietly.

"It's not just withdrawal though, is it? There's something else." John sat on the coffee table in front of Sherlock, not sure of how to comfort him. "Why won't you tell me?"

Sherlock looked up and John saw those beautiful eyes. He felt himself going slightly red at the thought of caressing Sherlock's pale face and leaning in to just brush his lips against-

Focus, John, focus!

"It's easier said than done." Sherlock scoffed and turned his head away.

"So there is something else." John narrowed his eyes.

"Don't act so surprised. You knew from the start that there was another reason behind my drug use apart from being bored."

"But you didn't admit to there being another reason before." John stopped himself from reaching over to Sherlock's hand. It wouldn't help. He needed Sherlock to feel comfortable with telling John this 'reason' behind his addiction.

"I'm coming to terms with it in my own way." Sherlock murmured and rubbed his hands together, exhausted from his outburst.

John's lips set into a straight line before he stood up. "Well...I'm off to bed, I think you should too."

"Yes." Sherlock stood too, "Goodnight, John."

"Night Sherlock." John smiled and went up to his own bedroom. He wanted to wrap his arms around the other man, comfort him in some way that shows affection. Talking never helped, Sherlock wasn't a talking person and John had come to terms that he never would be.

Puttin' my defenses up

'cuz I don't wanna fall in love

if I ever did that

I think I'd have a heart

attaaaAAAAAAaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaack.

it's not really the soundtrack to this chapter, I just have the song stuck in my head.