A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to put up. I've been ill and life won't let me relax. Thank you all for following my story!

Ayno23 – I'm so glad you like the songs! I love them; I think they reflect Johnlock pretty well in this story :-) You're the best for reviewing!

And please keep the reviews coming! They encourage me so much.

Chapter Six: I'll Protect You

.o.o.

.o.

Love ain't fair

So there you are

My love

Your heart's a mess

You won't admit to it

It makes no sense

But I'm desperate to connect

And you, you can't live like this

Your heart's a mess

You won't admit to it

It makes no sense

But I'm desperate to connect

And you can't live like this

Goyte – Heart's A Mess

.o.o.

.o.

Sherlock barely slept all night, his only thought on John's new boyfriend Adrian who seemed far from relationship material. He had barely talked to him and the detective already knew that this man was trouble that he didn't need. He fiddled with his phone and occasionally listened to Lestrade snore peacefully outside his door. At least one of them was able to get some rest during the night.

He watched as the English rain poured steadily outside his window and thought how he should go about this. John wouldn't believe Sherlock if he told him his deductions he had made of Adrian, and he might even be mad at the detective. However, at least he'd be aware of the kind of person his partner might potentially be. That would be worth losing his friendship with John if he made the doctor at least conscious of the risks he was taking. He didn't think he could talk to his friend face-to-face about this matter, though.

Sherlock caressed the outside skin of his phone before he finally speed-dialed the doctor.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello?"

"Err…" Sherlock hesitated. It wasn't John's voice but more importantly, it wasn't John. He cleared his throat. "Adrian… could you possibly be bothered to put John on the phone? It's rather important."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. It would appear that John's not available to come to his mobile right now. I'll gladly let him know that you called though," Adrian replied coolly in a tone that left Sherlock highly unsettled.

It was a snide tone that let the consulting detective know that Adrian was going to do nothing of the sort; he wouldn't tell John about Sherlock calling at all. He clenched his jaw and then couldn't resist the next words that came out of his mouth. "Adrian, I know what you are. I've seen so many vile creatures like you and all of them have managed to turn my stomach. If you so much as harm a hair on his head, I promise you the next place you'll end up living will be a very cold cemetery."

Adrian snickered on the other line. "I'm sorry, Sherlock… are you… threatening me? Do you realize that I could have call the police and have you thrown in jail for conspiracy to commit a violent act against another person? That's quite a serious offense."

"I'm not too worried about that. I know the people of Scotland Yard personally and I doubt your word will hold any water against my own. You see, Adrian, I can tell when people are dangerous. I have a magnificent gift of seeing how people truly are and Scotland Yard has seen my deductions come to live before their very eyes so I promise they'll side with me and won't believe a single word you tell them," Sherlock threatened calmly although his heart was hammering hard against his ribcage.

"You can try to intimidate me all you want but I know that your friendship with John means more than all the threats in the world. You wouldn't want me to tell him that you called here and threatened to bury me, would you?" he asked rhetorically before letting out a low, sick laugh. "Now here's how this is going to work: you never called here, Sherlock. And you'll never call here again or else I really will hurt him. In all honesty I was planning on it anyway but it'll just be that much sooner that I do. Boy oh boy, Sherlock Holmes… you really have me figured out, don't you? I'm warning you. Don't call him again. He's mine now and the sooner you realize that, the better."

He heard Adrian hang up John's phone and he growled in frustration, fighting the urge to throw his phone across the room. Sherlock stood up and then walked out of his room before he gently shook the sleeping DI that was laying on the couch.

"Mmm…?"

"Wake up, Lestrade. I just called him…" Sherlock walked into the kitchen and started to make a pot of coffee.

"Mm… called who? Who did you call?" Lestrade asked, almost in alarm as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Called Adrian… well, I meant to call John but Adrian picked up instead," he explained as he made his way back towards the detective.

Lestrade blinked a few times, trying to process this. "What did he say?"

"Almost exactly what I expected an abuser to say to John's best friend, for me to leave him alone and not call John's mobile again. You need to go over there and make sure that he's okay, Lestrade. Make sure John's all right…"

The DI groaned and ran a tired hand through his tussled hair. "I can't just go over there, Sherlock! That's not how it works."

Sherlock started to pace back and forth, frustrated that he couldn't do anything about this until an idea hit him. "Fine then, I'll go over there and make sure he's okay."

"What?" Lestrade stood up now. "No, you bloody well won't, Sherlock! You need to stay here. I'm sure John's just fine…"

"Aaargh!" Sherlock yelled out in Lestrade's direction. "You don't know that! He could be covered in bruises for all you know! What good are you if you won't even do your job?"

Lestrade sighed and moved over towards Sherlock. "John's a soldier! He's practiced in combat and defence. I'm sure he can handle himself, Sherlock. Now please, just… sit down and try to relax, will you?"

The detective finally did as he was told and sat down in the chair opposite of what used to be John's but tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair nervously. He watched as Lestrade went into the kitchen and then came back with two cups of coffee, handing one off to Sherlock before he sat down in John's chair.

Sherlock felt an emptiness and he chewed on his bottom lip, needing to do something productive. He grabbed his violin from the side of the chair and placed it on his lap before he started to strum it slowly, watching the steam from his coffee cup float upwards.

"He met this man in the military in Afghanistan, Lestrade. They're both trained in combat. They both know how to break bones…" Sherlock trailed off and then closed his eyes, refusing to let himself think that way.

No, he couldn't think about Adrian even touching John in a way that was inappropriate and harmful. It hurt Sherlock too much. He didn't understand why John chose this kinds of people, people who had the capacity to seriously hurt him physically and mentally. He knew that this didn't exclude him but at least Sherlock knew for certain he would hurt John in a way that wasn't loving.

"John can protect himself, you know. He's not as helpless as you seem to think he is. You don't always need to be the person to come to his rescue…"

Sherlock continued to strum the cords with his long, dexterous fingers. "I know he doesn't, but I can still feel the need to protect him, can't I? Or is that against the law now as well?"

Lestrade rolled his eyes and gave his friend a helpless look before he sipped his coffee. "I know you'd like me to but I can't just burst into this man's flat and arrest him on suspicions and hearsay."

Sherlock gave a disgusted look. "Suspicions and hearsay? Please, Lestrade. You know me better than that. You know my deductions based on a person's appearance has never been wrong. Something terrible is going to happen, just wait… you'll see."

"Yeah? Well I hope this time, that you are wrong, Sherlock. You're just looking for any reason to go after Adrian and it's going to get you into trouble. Do you hear me?"

"Yes… of course. I always hear you…" Sherlock sighed as he finally set his violin down and then took a sip of now lukewarm coffee.

Sherlock heard the ringing of Lestrade's phone at that moment and looked at him curiously.

"Yeah, I'll be right there! Keep everyone away from the murder site," Lestrade ordered into the phone before he hung up and looked at Sherlock. "Murder case. I've gotta run."

Sherlock stood up excitedly, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins. "Murder! Excellent! I'll come too…"

Lestrade placed a solid hand on the younger man's chest and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. We don't need you for this one. It's pretty straightforward but if you want me to, I'll come back here afterwards."

Sherlock pouted grimly and sighed. "No, don't even bother. Just… go home if you like. I'll be fine here by myself."

Lestrade shot him a doubtful look. "Are you sure? Do you promise me you'll eat?"

"Yes, yes… I promise. Now go! God knows Scotland Yard's incompetents can't do anything without you there," Sherlock encouraged, trying to hide his feelings with a snide ridicule.

The DI cast a mostly concerned look in Sherlock's direction now. "All right, I'll go but if you need me for anything, you have my number."

Sherlock nodded and then waved Lestrade off before he sat back down in the chair and leaned forward, ruffling his dark curls. He waited several seconds until he was sure that his fellow colleague was gone before he looked back at his phone and traced his fingers over John's name in the contacts, wishing he could somehow talk to him through the glass screen.

He sipped more of his coffee until he couldn't stand not doing anything anymore. He had to go see John, at least just make sure he was all right. Sherlock quickly got dressed and then hurried downstairs before running outside, hailing a cab. He took out his phone once he got in the back of the cab and started to speed search through semi-recent veteran British persons.

He saw John Watson's name and scanned past it until he soon came to three others whose first name was Adrian.

He bit his lip in thought and then went for his gut instinct before he leaned forward to tell the cabbie his destination. "Ganton Street, if you please," he directed before he leaned back. Sherlock knew London roads by heart and he also knew that most of the bars were located in and around Ganton Street. Adrian had to live around there.

He became more and more anxious with each passing second, thinking about John, hoping he was okay. Sherlock quickly paid the cabbie once they arrived there and stepped out, walking towards the closest flat within the proximity to the nearby pubs. He looked around, only seeing one large flat. That had to be it.

He hurried towards it and then looked at the names on the buzzers. He didn't recognize any of the names at first until he came to a familiar name.

Watson.

Watson/Brennon

Adrian Brennon, that had to be his name. He felt his heart sink when he saw John's name right beside the man he loathed, the man who had stolen the doctor from him. He didn't want to buzz it, knowing that Adrian wouldn't let him come up for anything. Sherlock took a cigarette out and lit it, buying his time.

Probability told him that there were at least two or three people out of the building at any given moment so at least one of them was bound to come back soon. He took several drags off his cigarette when he saw an older man smile politely at him as he opened the door, and then held it open as he looked back at Sherlock.

"You coming in? It's raining like hell out here!"

Sherlock smiled and threw his cigarette onto the ground before he nodded and took the open door. "Yes, thank you… thank you very much. I left my key upstairs…"

"No problem whatsoever, sir. Glad I could be of some service. Cheers…"

"Cheers," Sherlock nodded towards him. Naïve older men were a major part of that balance of probability.

He took the stairs up to the floor where John and Adrian were and then knocked on the door. He waited, hearing footsteps, his heart caught in his throat.

"Sherlock? What… what the hell are you doing here?"

The consulting detective was grateful to see a seemingly unharmed John Watson standing in front of him with what looked like confusion but also a certain relief in his eyes. "I… I called earlier but you weren't home and… I just needed to talk to you about something. Do you have a couple minutes?"

John furrowed his eyebrows and then looked inside before he suddenly looked apprehensively back at Sherlock. "Uhh… actually, you know what? Now isn't the best time, Sherlock. Why don't we meet up this weekend or – "

Sherlock shook his head determinedly, pursing his lips. "No, John… I'm sorry but this has to be right now… it's important."

John opened his mouth to say something else when Sherlock saw Adrian stroll out. "John, I was wondering who you were talking to out here," he smirked. "Sherlock, what ever brings you here? How did you know I lived around here? Did John tell you?"

He shook his head, swallowing back his own fear that was building up inside of him. Adrian's dark olive green eyes somehow made him look even more dangerous than he was already. Sherlock noticed John was looking uneasy, casting his eyes downward towards the floor.

"No, he didn't. I knew you were an alcoholic and you people do have an interestingly boring pattern of movements. It makes sense you would have a flat near at least five different pubs, all within walking distance. Clever, really. You wouldn't ever need to drink and drink. It'd be a shame if you hurt more people than you needed to," Sherlock spoke coldly.

Adrian chuckled and shrugged. "I suppose you're right, Sherlock. What can we help you with?"

"I'm afraid you can't help me at all, Adrian," Sherlock answered. "I just need to talk to John for a few minutes."

Adrian locked his fingers in John's and from the small wince his friend gave, Adrian had pulled him away from Sherlock with a rough tug. "Well that's bad timing. We were just about to go out for some breakfast. Would you like to come along with us?"

Sherlock glanced at John who remained quiet and solemn, qualities that Sherlock knew better were unlike John Watson. Usually his friend was enthusiastic and upbeat, so he knew that something wasn't right between them. He looked into Adrian's cold eyes. "I'm surprised you even let him eat at all. It's obvious you have such amazing control over John."

"It's just about showing dominance, Sherlock. It's a shame your parents never taught you where your place really was. I don't need to control John at all. He knows where his place is and his place is by my side," Adrian sneered at Sherlock.

He looked back at John who looked as if he was trying to keep his composure but Sherlock knew better. It pained him to see his friend look so timid and fearful. This wasn't the John he knew. "I'd love to come along with you to breakfast."

Sherlock fingered the phone that was in his trench coat pocket, having an idea. "Why don't you go grab John's coat and an umbrella for yourself? It's raining buckets outside at the moment."

Adrian nodded suspiciously before he went back inside the flat, leaving Sherlock alone with John finally. He leaned in and tried to get the doctor's eye, a task he found difficult. "John," he whispered. "Listen to me. I know what he's doing to you and you don't need to let him."

"He's not doing anything to me, Sherlock. You're overreacting," John replied in a cold, rehearsed tone Sherlock recognized of abuse victims.

He was about to counter John's denial when Adrian came back out. The three of them walked towards the café that stood in the center of the books near the flat building. Once the three of them had grabbed some type of breakfast meal and sat down at a table, Sherlock noticed that Adrian had made John sit on the same side of the table as himself.

Sherlock reached down into his coat pocket and turned on the voice recorder on his phone. He stared into Adrian's eyes, despising this man for putting on a show and forcing John to go along with it. He needed to prove that John was being abused by this prick, one way or another. He needed to protect his friend. "You two moved in together pretty fast. Too fast, I would say."

Adrian tongued his cheek and chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, John had to move in somewhere after you kicked him out. I was just generous enough to offer that he stay at mine, and he agreed."

"You mean you forced him into your flat. That's what controlling people do to their victims to gain more control and power over them, isn't it?"

"He wanted to move in with me. He's been seeing me for over a year and after our time together overseas, we had a pretty strong connection," Adrian winked at Sherlock. "You know what I think it is, Sherlock? I think you're jealous, that I got to him first before you did."

Sherlock scoffed, feeling sick being around this man. "Please… you don't know John like I know him. You'll never know him like I know him."

Adrian smiled and shook his head. "No, Sherlock. It's you who will never know him like I know him. I can say that I truly know him inside… and out."

Sherlock felt a wave of nausea fall over him now as he got Adrian's real meaning. His anger started to bubble to the surface but he had to keep telling himself that he was getting evidence of Adrian's abusive side all on his voice recorder. This was the only thing keeping him from jumping across the table and killing him.

"You're a real bastard, Adrian Brennon. I'm not surprised you were discharged without honor. You're a disgrace. You don't deserve John Watson in your life. He's too good for you…"

Sherlock's words didn't seem to have any effect on Adrian as he finished up his pastry. "Oh, and you do? You honestly believe you deserve him more than I do? You think you know everything about me, but… I know a few things about yourself as well. You're forgetting that I have military connections still, even after being discharged. You're a drug addict, Sherlock Holmes. You have a history of morphine addiction. You would sell your own brother just to get some. I might be an alcoholic but… we're more socially acceptable than you. And… I forget again, who is John with? Oh! That's right. He's with me."

Sherlock could feel his hands shaking under the table, not having touched his croissant that was still sitting on the napkin. He looked towards John who had a defeated look in his eyes. He wanted his friend back, more than anything. "Why aren't you fighting back, John? Are you scared of this man? Are you scared of Adrian Brennon?"

He knew that John was but he wanted it on record. John didn't say anything but sighed as he sat upright again and picked at his coffee cake.

Suddenly, Sherlock couldn't stand it anymore. "Say something, John! Say it! Just bloody say that you're afraid of him! I know it's true. I can see it in your eyes!"

Adrian was looking a bit nervous now as several people in the café were looking in their direction. He pushed John roughly out of the booth but not so rough as to actually knock him out onto the floor. "Come on, John. We're leaving now…"

Sherlock stood up and looked almost eye level with this ex-soldier. He clenched his jaw in place firmly, searching Adrian's cold, dead eyes. "You admit you hurt him earlier. You… you r-raped him, didn't you?"

Adrian's eyes casted downwards and Sherlock felt his heart sink into the depths of his stomach when he knew he had found Sherlock's phone recording the conversation. "Why would I ever do that? I love John, and he loves me. You better stay out of our relationship, Sherlock."

"Is that a threat?"

Adrian smirked. "It's a… friendly suggestion, is all. Have a lovely day, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock watched as Adrian led John out of the café, walking back towards his flat. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He shut off the recording on his phone and then finally started to follow them at a distance. He strayed behind until he saw Adrian making his way towards the front of the flat.

"Vatican cameos!" he suddenly yelled to John.

To his surprise, John barely moved but he still managed to get out of the way just in time before Sherlock took Adrian to the wet ground. He started to punch him hard, over and over. Adrian coughed, spitting up blood from apparently biting his tongue and then shoved Sherlock onto the ground now right before he started doing the same thing to him.

"I said stay away from us! John's not your business anymore!"

Sherlock wheezed and coughed, tasting the metallic taste in his own mouth. He put his arms out to block Adrian's punches until he couch catch his breath again. The detective kicked Adrian in his stomach and rolled away out of the line of fire before getting his feet and then managing another swift punch to Adrian's nose and then a front kick to his stomach.

Sherlock spit out a clot of blood away from him before he looked at Adrian, panting. "L-Looks like that military training didn't g-get you very far…"

John was now looking frantic, his hands behind his head looking panicked. He looked over at Sherlock. "W-What did you do?"

Sherlock knew that he wasn't trying to defend Adrian but he was more trying to look out for Sherlock, knowing that someone would've heard the commotion and called the police. He rubbed his jaw painfully before he grabbed Adrian and pinned him against the building. "Stay there… I know that Lestrade will love to lock you up."

"You're forgetting that you'll be in just as much trouble, Sherlock Holmes," Adrian laughed as the rain poured down on all three of them.

Sherlock shook his head and felt a sick satisfaction as Greg Lestrade pulled up to them, looking disappointedly at him.

"What's all this about then, Sherlock? I should've known this was you…"

Sherlock pulled out his phone. "H-Here… I have it all on here and I have physical evidence of Adrian Brennon's violence!"

Lestrade looked at him warily before he walked back to his car and listened to the voice recording on Sherlock's phone. He sighed heavily before he walked back over to Sherlock, looking from him to Adrian and then over to John, who appeared unscathed.

"He never actually admits to hurting John on there, Sherlock. There's very little to go on. As far anyone else could tell by listening to that, this guy's just another prick. I'm sorry, Sherlock… I know that's not what you wanted to hear."

Sherlock pocketed the phone and watched in despair as Lestrade just gave Adrian a warning not to cause any more trouble again and then started back to his car. The detective followed him after Adrian ushered John back inside the flat.

"I bet you make Scotland Yard proud, don't you, Lestrade?" he asked icily, feeling disgusted with everything right now.

"Go back to Baker Street, Sherlock…"

"Oh yes, you would love that, wouldn't you? You're utterly fucking useless, you know that?! What the hell good are you if you won't even help me?" Sherlock yelled at him, on the brink of tears as the rain matted his hair to his face. "I gave you evidence and you claim it's nothing! You let him go!"

Lestrade looked up from his paperwork he was filling out as he sat in his car. "There wasn't any evidence! No cuts, no bruises, nothing! Except on you! What were you even doing here? You're lucky he's not putting a restraining order on you, Sherlock! What you did could be considered stalking, and the hitting him like that! Assault and battery…."

Sherlock looked at the DI in disbelief, his tears finally falling from exhaustion and frustration. "H-He's… he's f-fucking hurting him, Lestrade! He… he r-raped him… I know he did… he practically told me earlier. T-The look on his face…"

Lestrade sighed but looked at Sherlock sympathetically. "You know I believe you, Sherlock. You've never given me a wrong lead once, but unfortunately, we can't do anything with just 'looks on faces.' We need hard evidence. I know you're frustrated as hell right now but there's nothing we can do unless we either catch it in the act or…" Lestrade trailed off, not wanting to give the more unsavoury answer.

Sherlock knew it, though. He always knew. "No…" he shook his head. "I'm not letting this bastard kill my only friend, Lestrade. I won't let it get that far."

"What are you planning on doing, Sherlock?"

The young man looked up at the darkened sky, as if searching for answers before he looked back at Lestrade. "Whatever I have to."

Greg shook his head. "Don't do anything you're going to regret, or rather don't do anything John would regret. Are you honestly planning on murdering John's live-in boyfriend, Sherlock? Do you think that'll make him fall madly in love with you? It won't!" `

Sherlock took a deep breath before he exhaled deeply, wishing he could go back to the day when John had told him he loved someone else. If he had the chance, Sherlock would make him see his true potential and that they knew each other better than anyone else did. He would somehow change John's mind, but that was all 'shoulda, coulda, wouldas' that would never see the light.

He didn't know what to do now. The only way he could protect John would be to hurt him. He somehow needed to get Lestrade on his side for this plan of action, though… or at least make it look like it was self-defence. At least that might hurt John a little bit less.

Sherlock hated feeling this helpless but if he could save John from ending up like so many past abuse victims in London, then maybe the risks would be worth it. Maybe.