Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A.N. Hope you'll enjoy this. I swear I was surprised myself by this...
"How was your day?" John asked, on getting back home.
"Informative." Sherlock's tone was snappish.
"Bad news?" John frowned, touching his arm. It wasn't supposed to relax him like a switch. It did. That annoyed the sleuth all over again.
"Not as such. My wolf had some interesting insight. I didn't know you could have taken a walk in my mind palace anytime you pleased, since I turned. Only since I turned, I'm hoping."
"Oh. I meant to get to that - soon. And yeah, I am not connected with anyone who isn't part of my pack, obviously. That would be more hassle than it could be worth." John shrugged. "But you know, don't you? That just because I can, it doesn't mean I have." He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure you'd have noticed."
Sherlock flushed. "Or maybe not. That's my problem, John. If you just come strolling in, and - see something that was never meant to get out. And then - "
John scoffed. As if his concerns were completely unfounded. Sherlock was this close to growling at him. "Between us, who should really be concerned about that, huh? Who has a history of steamrolling over boundaries from the start? Because I don't really think it's me."
"Well, I didn't know it was an option!" Sherlock protested.
"And now you do, and who couldn't leave a curiosity unsatisfied if lives depended on it?" John's eyebrow rose in challenge
"You aren't being literal." The detective's words were closer to a whine than he'd ever admit. If he had a tail at the moment, Sherlock's would curl between his legs. He'd been so sure he had a very righteous reason for concern, even anger. How did it end with him being on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing? It wasn't fair.
John sighed deeply. "Nope. If lives depended on it, you'd behave...at least until you managed to get the bastard under lock and key. Case finished, though? All bets would be off. Are off, I have to assume."
"Actually, the wolf side of me seems much more inclined to pop in than I am. He might have a problem with his attachment style, I'm afraid. Humiliating as it is, you're more likely to get it to listen than I do. Even I get that I need to respect the sanctity of your mind if I want you out of mine, but what can you expect from a dog?" Sherlock huffed.
"Not a dog" John corrected, his words overlapping with the wolf growling the exact same sentence loud in the detective's mind.
"Because canid's so much better," It was Sherlock's turn to scoff. "Truth? I wish we were dogs. It'd be less stressing."
John didn't regard that as worthy of a verbal response. His look was eloquent about how dumb he found that sentence. And yes, Sherlock knew that they hadn't attacked anyone who didn't deserve it, or that they wouldn't have handled even without claws. Still, being officially tame would have been a classification easier to swallow.
"You've never been tame in your life, little brother," his inner Mycroft decided to point out. Well, Mycroft could fuck off.
"We're not dogs, so you might as well start to accept the idea. But if it concerns you, I can promise that I won't ever use our connection, unless we agree in advance, or it is a literal matter of life and death. And I expect the same from you. Will you agree to these terms?"
"Does it matter?" When what he actually meant was, why would you trust me to, if you think I steamroll over boundaries?
"Does it -" John sighed again. "Yes, it matters. When did I ever give you the idea that you don't get a say on anything? Don't I follow more times than I lead?
"Why, actually?" Sherlock "Given you're an alpha and all."
John's grin was wider than ever. "Oh come on, I'm sure you know the answer to that. You've known since the first day."
"Because you enjoy it." The cases, for sure. Following, perhaps, not so much... but everything was a trade off in life.
"It's fantastic. You're fantastic, and how you didn't get bored with me saying that yet, I don't know." A beat, and then "Ok, I do... but I forget, sometimes."
Sherlock flushed. So he...appreciated John's praise. And John had known all along, oh my God, for all the lessons he'd got he had not considered the details of it. Was that why John was so very vocal in his admiration in the first place?
Part of him wanted to run. But it'd be useless, wouldn't it? John wouldn't stop knowing him. Or - having him, if he wanted to, in the deepest sense of the word; more than any physical connection could offer. "I do. Agree. To your 'stay out of me' clauses."
John's nose might be on a par with Sherlock's deductions for understanding what people didn't actually say (and Sherlock was on his way to add smell to the clues he deduced from), but at least complete mind-reading would be off the table.
"Great. And hey, this time it didn't even take you a week to circle back to this conversation. Kudos."
"What's up with you today?" Sherlock snapped. John seemed incapable of getting three sentences out without lashing at him. It was ages since Sherlock used him as unwilling test subject - wait, now he had to reconsider all his results and adjust for the were situation...
John didn't answer immediately. He took a few deep breaths, then admitted, "Sorry. Right, I've been a bit of an arse. Guess I'm just...frustrated."
"With me?" The wolf whined pitifully in the back of Sherlock's mind.
"Yes. No. With you, and with me, and with the dead bastard that changed you, and with the first werewolf to ever mutate, and maybe a few more in history, just to make the party a little more lively. It's just...we were fine, weren't we? When you thought I was human, and you were human, and you deleted horror movies on the rare occasion you watched one. And if we watched them now, you could nitpick them exactly like you do mysteries. "
"John, I refuse to believe that your issue is with my possible behaviour next time you pick a B-movie with poor special effects."The detective made a point to emphasise looking down at him. This couldn't be real.
John chuckled. "Of course not, it's... gosh, I'm not good at this, am I?"
Sherlock hummed his assent. If the man - alpha - whatever - could be just a tad less confusing, that would be brilliant.
"Lemme try again. We were fine, everyone was happy, I kept a lid on the truth, perfect self-control, and then that asshole goes and sends you careening into my world. And you're not okay with this, always worrying over something, what you could do, what I could do. It doesn't matter how well we do in the moment. You'll regret it soon if you don't already, and honestly? It pisses me off. It's not my fault, and I can't exactly kill the mongrel twice, and - what happens once you do, huh? Because I know how to cope, but I don't know how to undo it. And I don't know what you could end up doing, or - " John slammed his jaw shut. This time, the smell was clear and acrid in the air: fear.
Which, of course, made Sherlock's own adrenaline spike, because if John was afraid, and he invaded Afghanistan...Then he scoffed at himself. Irrational. It wasn't even the wolf, this time. He was the dumb one. Hopefully it'd been a flash too dumb to notice, but John's nose was much more experienced than his own.
"I know I huh, sometimes make reckless choices. Even with an entirely human and completely rational brain." He wasn't admitting to any less than that. No matter how much emotion might steer him, all his decisions were rational. Completely. "And sure, I'm concerned about the changes. I'm sure you were, too, when it happened to you."
"I actually panicked, until I realized the changes were mostly helpful, so. I learned to roll with it. Things could have gone worse, right?" John admitted, with a little shrug.
They could have both been dead, not changed. The idea pulled a low growl from Sherlock's throat.
"Is that a yes-growl or a no-growl?"
Which was actually comforting. His feelings might be an open book, but John is still not a mind reader. (It might actually be too stupid to break a deal just sealed, but still. There's the big, big part of Sherlock worried because he wouldn't know.) "A yes-growl. And a, huh, if things try to go worse I'll rip someone's throat open first growl, actually." Sherlock flushed. The worst was, he wasn't lying.
"Oh, you wouldn't be alone in that." John smiled, and it was the same smile that usually preluded some criminal getting killed. It used to spook Sherlock, just a little, that John would smile... but now, of course, he knew. He really ought to be precise. Even without words, or with the most even ones, that was a proper snarl.
Sherlock's wolf wagged his tail, thumping it vigorously against the furniture. "Ok, are we actually sure we're not dogs? Because mine's tail is very...active at the moment. " The detective cleared his throat. Damn, the mutt was embarrassing, but if it was a mutt it would be an improvement.
"Wolves do wag their tails in solidarity and excitement. Who do you think dogs got that from? You liking the idea of me having your back if need be doesn't sound so absurd. Though it should be a given by now," John explained.
"Oh, nope."
"No what?" John raised a confused eyebrow.
"He wants the reins just for a minute, and - no."
John shrugged. "Hey, the body's yours. Just some relevant information, though. The constant disagreements aren't exactly wise. Nothing's stopping him from napping during the day and doing whatever he wants when you are finally snoozing."
Sherlock blanched. "The voice of experience, I assume," he gritted out.
John nodded, mouth thin. "Well, yeah. The wolf wasn't wrong, actually, but keeping it on a tight leash seemed sensible. We didn't have a K-9 unit with us, so. "
"The wolf wasn't wrong? Was that really true, John? Or is that how you sleep at night?"
"He was. My company would have been in much greater trouble if we didn't slip out and take care of some issues. And yours...well, 'just a minute' doesn't seem like the request of someone up to mischief."
"You're so careful with your wording," the detective sniffed.
"Promise, I'll give you every bloody detail someday. Not today, though. When you're not actively looking for the worst possible interpretation of everything."
"I'm not," Sherlock protested.
"And you aren't even pouting, are you?" John smiled - a real smile, fond and indulgent.
"Of course not," the detective snapped, indignant. He never did, so where did his roommate get that idea...
"Fine, fine," John rose both hands in surrender. "Have it your way. I'm still not telling at the moment. Besides, isn't it nice? To have something to look forward to?"
"Being kept in the dark about things that could be very relevant? Oh, sure, it's fantastic."
"Anyone else who tried to be nosy about my past, I'd just lie. You know I would. But I won't insult you that way, and no, it's not because you're part of the pack now."
"Am I, if you don't trust me with your secrets?"
"The same pack? Sure. The same person? Not yet." John's fear spiked again. "Unless this is your way to tell me you want out."
"Oh for the love...No, I don't, John! What would I do on my own? And besides..."
Sherlock shifted. Even if John hadn't been a were himself, he would have seen the wolf was very, very sorry. It came at him with lowered ears and tail tucked, nosing gently at his hip.
"Hey," John's voice was soft. "Hey, it's okay." He scratched the wolf's neck and behind his ear. "So long as you plan to stay, it's brilliant. "
The wolf huffed at him, all misery gone.
"Yeah, well, glad to hear it wouldn't flit through your head in a million years. Because you know, moving is damn troublesome and..." John's voice trailed off. "I know better than to lie to you. I just don't want to lose my pack, okay? Not again."