Things reach a turning point the day that John comes home with his hand heavily bandaged and a very unpleasant haunted look in his eye. Sherlock had expected him not to come home, he was so late back from his date so when at half past midnight John walks through the door with a tightly wrapped hand and a posture that speaks of calculated restraint Sherlock knows instantly that something is wrong.
'What did she do this time?' Sherlock asks without getting up but his attention is firmly fixed on his flatmate.
'You're right. I'll have to end this.' John says, his gaze still far away.
While this pleases Sherlock he is rather concerned by the flat voice and lack of proper response to his question from John. ' John tell me, unless you want me to deduce it in which case I can start with the smell of disinfectant and the…'
'Stop…' John snaps in a voice that is bordering on shouting. 'She stopped by the clinic…' John is looking down at his bandaged hand as he speaks, avoiding looking Sherlock in the eyes. 'She walked in as I was congratulating Sarah on this award she's getting and she got the wrong end of the stick. It makes sense… I mean she knows about Sarah and me… that we used to date… she….' John faltered a little looking out the window at the traffic moving outside their flat. 'I took her aside to calm her down… I'd been removing a splinter from a boy's foot and it was just lying there…'
John's response is slow and hesitant and Sherlock takes matters into his own hands. 'She cut you, with a scalpel, one you had just used on a patient. You're not worried about disease so a healthy, young patient. But she did cut deep. You're in pain and you had to go to A&E. She cut you across the palm, judging by the bandage. No, palm and then outside of the wrist. Defensive wounds…' Sherlock looks quizzically at John who firmly refuses to look him in the eye.
'You don't need to lecture me Sherlock, and don't say I told you so. I've had quite enough for one day.' John pleads as he shrugs out of his coat and hangs it over the side of his chair. Sherlock looks on in fascination as John turns and disappears up the stairs. The edge of the sleeve on John's jumper is cut and the fabric is stained a deep red which is slowly turning a rusty brown. It has been rolled up to keep the blood off the bandages but the coat has pulled it down somewhat and the top of the bandage has stained slightly.
Sherlock isn't quite sure if he finds it fascinating or horrifying. He can tell that John is hurting and he feels bad for his friend but at the same time John's stoic acceptance of the pain inflicted on him is intriguing. He has seen this kind of acceptance of abuse at a distance before but never in such close proximity, it is almost like an experiment has been handed to him on a plate, except John doesn't like to be experimented on.
Sherlock has had two cases with Lestrade where domestic abuse had been contributing factors in the motive behind the murder. On one occasion it had been the father of the abused party who had committed the murder. Sherlock feels anger stir in his chest and something unfamiliar twitches at the sight of John's pained movements and sad eyes. He wonders fleetingly; if this goes on, will he one day want to murder Laura in order to keep her away from John? He is not John's father of course but for the first time he understands the motives of that man on more than a theoretical level.
At least this time John had said he knew he needed to end things so maybe a resolution to the situation was close at hand.