Two years down the line and things are very different now for John Watson.

A week or so after Sherlock stepped back off that plane, Moriarty had cracked and told Sherlock everything. He now owns a bakery somewhere in Ireland with a few of Mycroft's men keeping an eye on him. He was also engaged to a man, who used to be his sniper, called Moran.

Three months after Sherlock stepped back off that plane, John discovered that Mary had lied to him once again. The girl he'd been caring for, Hazel, for almost two months was not his child. Mary had been seeing a teacher behind his back and had only stayed with John so long to ensure Sherlock wouldn't say a word.

Five months after Sherlock stepped off that plane, John had moved back into Baker Street and was beginning to feel those all too familiar rushes of emotion around his flatmate and best friend. John Watson was starting to fall for Sherlock again.

Nine months after Sherlock stepped off that plane, John returns home to find his flatmate pinned to the fridge and his face stuck to another man's.

This is where our story starts.

-

John was utterly speechless as Sherlock and the mystery man stepped away from each other, looking like guilty teenagers. Sherlock's hair was wild, resembling a scruffy bird's nest, and his lips were swollen from all the kissing. Both were panting slightly as they stare back at John; the man who had Sherlock pinned to the fridge blushed lightly while Sherlock's expression was a blank one.

John and Sherlock locked glazes.

"Um.." was all John could mutter.

"Maybe I should go.." The man, who was taller than both John and Sherlock, spoke.

John's attention finally settled on him.

He was well built, he clearly worked out and probably belonged to a gym, his hair was a honey nut colour that complimented his slightly tanned skin perfectly. Even from this distance John would spot a few freckles that splashed over his cheeks. He had an extremely noticeable scar on his neck, ending just at his jawbone. The man was wearing simple clothes: dark jeans, a white shirt and smart shoes.

John stepped back to let him pass but he never got that far. Sherlock had grabbed his arm the moment he'd finished speaking.

The two locked eyes, and John could almost sense the private conversation they were having with just looks and the occasional raising of an eyebrow.

"Sher.. Don't look at me like that" John heard the guy whisper.

Sher. Sher?

Sherlock had let this man give him a nickname. Now John truly had seen everything. Well, no, Janine had given him a nickname. Sherl. But that was for a case. This didn't seem to be, not by the way they seemed so sad they got caught.

"You promised, Matthew" Sherlock hissed back, his expression cold.

John suddenly takes another step back, holding up his hands. The tension was thick. Too thick. They clearly had something to discuss in terms of who was to know about their relationship, whatever it was.

Three's a crowd, John.

"Would you like me to go? Leave you two alone for a bit?" The doctor asks, his heart falling towards his stomach.

"Yes" Sherlock nods, not looking away from the man he'd previously been snogging.

John nods back, a silent see-ya, before he turns and leaves into the cold London evening. The moment he was out of the flat, the situation hit him like a bomb. Sherlock was in a relationship, or he at least had someone he liked and kisses against fridges.

That stung. It stung John like a venomous snake with anger issues. 

Over the past five months John had fallen in love with Sherlock, not for the first time either. And now, the detective, who had never needed anything other than a decent challenge and a good cup of tea, was in a relationship. John couldn't hope to win over the brilliant man now. If Sherlock had actually committed to some form of a relationship than he must be in deep with this guy.

Another fact hit John. Sherlock had chosen the man over him. He was presented with a chance and happily leaped at the opportunity to get John out the flat and leave him with his boyfriend.

Sherlock had moved on.

No, he can't think that. That would suggest that he and John had something once upon a time. They didn't, unfortunately. Sherlock had nothing to move on from, that was all John.

John shakes his head. He'd left it far too long to be angry at anyone. He was only disappointed in himself for letting Sherlock get away time and time again.

*

John returns to his flat at around ten in the evening. He enters quietly and looks around. There was no sign of anyone.

Maybe Sherlock had gone to his boyfriend's house for the night. Matthew, Sherlock had called him.

The thought of Sherlock having a boyfriend hit the ex-army doctor every time. Each time he thought the word he couldn't help but feel it should be him. He'd always been here for Sherlock, even though it was just as a friend. But this guy seems to turn up out of no where and is kissing Sherlock in their kitchen like they had moments to live.

With a shake of his head, John shuffles into said kitchen. He's about to turn on the kettle when he hears the creaking of bedsprings. John freezes.

Then he hears a deep moan and somehow John can tell that it was Sherlock. John's face portrays the disgust and embarrassment he felt before he rushes up to his room, where he was unable to hear any of the sounds erupting from downstairs.

Once in his bedroom he quickly changes and lays down to sleep. He can't help it when he tries to listen, to see if he could hear. He couldn't hear thing even when silent, thankfully.

The last thought he had before falling asleep was how he wished it was him. How it should be him.

*

John was sat in his chair, reading about fifteen kids who'd been in a bus crash in the paper, when he heard Sherlock's bedroom door open.

Matthew had stayed the night and that almost made John wince. Almost. He forces himself not to react, knowing full well that Sherlock's ever deducing eyes would catch his reaction. That is, if he's not to busy with Matthew to pay attention to his best friend.

Seeing as it was rare for them to close the door to the kitchen, there was no separation between the kitchen and the living room and John could hear the couples conversation. He wished he couldn't.

"Sher," Matthew laughs "C'mon, stop it. I need to get to work"

The sound of kissing fills John's ears. Then there's a childish whine from the worlds only consulting detective.

"One day off won't kill anyone, Matty" Sherlock protests and John can imagine him pouting adorably. Maybe even stamping his foot.

There's a pause in conversation and then the two men are giggling like school girls at some private joke John obviously didn't understand.

John couldn't help when his mind put himself in Matthew's place. Sherlock pleading him to take a day off work because he wanted to spend the day with him, kissing and cuddling and doing all the other things couples did. The only reason John had ever been asked by Sherlock to take a day off work was when they had a case.

"I'll see you later" Matthew's voice brings John out of his thoughts "You've got some explaining to do to your friend.. Jack?" Matthew questions.

John frowns. Sherlock hadn't even told his boyfriend about his best friend, colleague and flat mate. Too distracted by Matthew himself, most likely, for it to even cross his stupid ridiculously large and beautiful mind.

"John" Sherlock corrects immediately, speaking the moment Matthew had stopped talking.

John's heart seems to take that as a chance to fill with hope while his brain tells him it's just Sherlock being Sherlock and correcting everyone whenever the chance arises.

"John. Right. You know how I am with names" Matthew speaks and then there's the sound of a sweet goodbye kiss.

The door to the stairs in the kitchen is opened and John guesses Matthew has started his way out because when the freckled man speaks again he sounds like he's half way down the stairs.

"See you later, muffin!" He calls with a laugh.

"I hate that pet name, you know!" Sherlock calls back, his tone only expressing fondness.

John hears a faint laugh from Sherlock's boyfriend before the door closes. Sherlock shuts the door in the kitchen and John finally relaxes a little. It had been awkward to sit there. He'd barely met this guy and then suddenly he's stayed the night and is calling Sherlock muffin. Plus, his jealousy was at an all time high.

Matthew had Sherlock. John didn't.

The brilliant man himself strolls in then, a large grin on his face. John grimaces; he'd never made Sherlock smile that much when he was there, never mind after he'd left the room or flat.

"So" Sherlock sits opposite John "he's just a guest but you've probably got some questions"

John folds the newspaper and scowls, the familiar words registering with two possible meanings.

"You're using the poor guy!" John accuses, his mind going back to the whole Janine ordeal.

Sherlocks mouth hangs open, his face openly showing shock and hurt as he gapes as his friend.

"What? No, John! I am in a relationship with Matthew" Sherlock replies, frowning in disappointment.

"He's nothing to do with a case?" John questions, feigning concern and secretly hoping that Sherlock is using Matthew, as terrible a thought it is.

"No! I am not. We're very serious. Just last month we were discussing moving in together" Sherlock snarls at John, obviously offended John believed him so heartless.

He wraps his dressing gown tighter around himself before storming into the kitchen.

John almost crumples in his seat. Sherlock might be moving out. Sherlock might be leaving Baker Street. Leaving John. The blogger really didn't want that to happen, Sherlock was all he had left now. No, in fact, Sherlock was all he ever truly had.

With a small sigh, John stands. He may be in love with Sherlock but he couldn't be a crappy friend, he had to support Sherlock in his choice.

John trails into the kitchen, head hung in shame. He was ashamed. He'd let his own selfish needs and wants cause him to jump to conclusions.

"Sherlock--"

"Save it, John" Sherlock snaps from his position in front of the kettle.

The kettle hadn't even been switched on and Sherlock was just staring at it blankly, his eyes seeing through the object as his mind wonders else where. The doctor couldn't not notice the love bite on the detective's neck no matter how hard he tried.

"So.. How long have you and Matthew been together?" John questions as he moves to make himself some toast.

Sherlock seems to brighten up at the mention of Matthew and spins around, grinning again.

"We've been together for a few months now... But I've known him since I was fifteen" He smiles, his hand absentmindedly going to his neck to hover over the love bite.

John nods, glad he was facing away from his friend. So not only did Sherlock keep Matthew a secret for months but he's also the guy's childhood sweetheart. John felt evil for already hating the guy so much. He was probably a really kind, loving and patient guy (He'd have to be, to be with Sherlock).

"Were you in school together?" John asks, sliding bread into the toaster before retrieving the butter from the fridge. As he did he gave the detective, who was still smiling, a quick grin to say he was happy for him.

"Uh.. Sort of. Well, no, no, we weren't" Sherlock chuckles fondly at some memory that John didn't know of "He played rugby for my schools rival team"

John does smile at that. It seemed like this was shaping out to be a rather cute love story and he couldn't deny the tone of pure adoration Sherlock's voice held as he spoke.

But cute couple or not, John still felt jealous and lonely and sad that Sherlock wasn't his.

If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was.

"How'd you meet?" John questions, after a few moments of him transferring hot toast to a plate.

Sherlock actually sighed like those hopeless romantics do in movies. He then laughs a little "It wasn't that much, actually, but I was smitten. After the game I went down to the field to find Mycroft, he was head boy and my reason for being there. Matthew come over to shake Mycroft's hand. He noticed me standing there and winked. After that I made a point of attending any matches with his school. He eventually gave me his number and things just went on from there"

John turns now, nodding at Sherlock. It was a rather sweet, if maybe a little cliché, story. He bites into his now buttery toast, chewing and swallowing before he asked the next question.

"Did you guys date or whatever in school?" He hoped he was prying, then Sherlock would stop and he wouldn't have to listen to what was a perfect story. School sweethearts.

"Uh, no. He continuously rejected me, saying I was too young and that when we were older we could try. Then he moved away when I turned 18.." Sherlock trails off, as if Matthew leaving was a bad memory. It probably was.

John finds himself wishing Matthew had stayed away.

Another bite of his toast, then another question "Hold on, too young? How much older is he then you?"

Sherlock shrugs "Three years. It's not a lot, but when you're young it's a fairly big age gap"

John nods in agreement. That meant when they met Matthew was already eighteen. Wow. The guy came on to a minor at a rugby game. And yet, he did the right thing and told Sherlock they couldn't until the time was right.

It was getting hard for John to hate this man.

"So, when did he come to London?" John raises an eyebrow, partly curious and partly wanting this conversation to end.

"Six months--"

Sherlock was cut off by his phone buzzing. His attention snaps to it immediately.

"Lestrade. The triple murder with two missing siblings and seemingly no connection, we have another murder!" Sherlock says, his eyes scanning the text, a wide smile spread over his lips.. but not quite as wide as the smile he had after kissing Matthew goodbye, John notes with a twinge of sadness.

*

They (John, Sherlock and Lestrade) were tucked into the small alley, all focused on the case and the woman's body on the floor. Sherlock was leant over the body with his little magnifying glass when John heard the shouts from across the street. 

"Sher! Sherlock!" Matthew came running up to them, grinning widely as he gripped sheets of paper in his hands.

Sherlock frowns at him a little "Matty? What are you doing? I'm working... And you should be to!"

Lestrade shot John a look, silently asking what this was about. John just shrugs at the detective inspector before his eyes go back to the couple, where Sherlock was waiting for an explanation from his boyfriend. 

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. But I just had to show you this" Matthew looked apologetic at first but he was soon grinning again as he passes over the paper.

Sherlock frowns at him some more before his eyes drop to the paper. After a few moments his mouth fell open and he begins to just stare holes into the paper. John tries to peer over at the paper but from his position next to Lestrade he couldn't see what it was.

"Oh my God.." Sherlock whispers, barely audible as he looks up at Matthew. "You got it!"

"I got it" Matthew nods, with a small proud smile.

Then they were kissing, Sherlock's hands on his boyfriend's collar to pull him closer. Matthew gave a squeak of surprise but kisses back just as hard.

John's stomach twists, completely jealous. He has to look away, wanting to be in Matthew's place far too much. He craved to be the one to run his fingers through Sherlock's hair and pull him closer. Sherlock looked at Matthew with such pride... John really wanted that.

Lestrade suddenly clears his throat. "Er, Sherlock.. Dead woman, missing people.." He looks between the two men as they pulled away.

Sherlock nods, turning. Matthew kept his arms around Sherlock's waist, his chin resting on Sherlock's shoulder. John felt a rush of jealousy go through him as he admired the fact Matthew was tall enough to do that. He'd never be able to do that to Sherlock.

"It was the sister" Sherlock jumps right in "You can tell by the nail polish"

"She's not wearing nail polish" Greg points out, crossing his arms and looking sternly at Sherlock. Clearly he didn't like the fact Sherlock wasn't being overly helpful.

"The nail polish under her ear. We know her sister is missing. We interviewed her sister before, about the first missing sister. She was wearing that exact nail polish, very particular shade of red, certain brand. Her sister's brand. She went to her sister, I'm assuming she figured out she was the one who bumped off her other sister. Got her head smashed against the dresser, where the nail polish was and then her sister dragged her here. The second missing sister is the killer, she's on her way to Florida, I saw the plane tickets when we interviewed her four days ago" Sherlock waves his hands at Lestrade "Go arrest her"

Matthew turns his face and whispers in Sherlock's ear. Then someone happened that John Watson never thought he'd see. Sherlock Holmes was blushing; his cheeks aflame with colour and the tips of his ears glowing in embarrassment.

The detective clears his throat "Um, right. Can we leave?"

Lestrade stares for a moment, the shock evident on his face. "I suppose.. Er, come by tomorrow to give your statement"

"I will" Sherlock says, already turning and pushing Matthew in front of him, giving him a heated stare.

John swallows thickly, realising just how in love the two were.

*

John had managed to escape the clinic early and was looking forward to relaxing. However when he steps into the living room, shouts fill the air from the arguing couple.

"I can't believe you, Sherlock!" Matthew shouts, his voice dark. Sherlock must have really pissed him off.

John first thought was 'Oh God, what has Sherlock done?' but soon he was smiling. Maybe they'd break up. Normally he'd feel guilty about feeling happy about such a terrible thing but he didn't. In fact he hoped they broke up.

"You can't believe me?! You've broken almost every promise you've ever made to me!" Sherlock screams back, his voice riddled with emotion.

He sounded on the verge of tears and that made John unbearably angry with the man Sherlock called his boyfriend. 

"Ugh! I can't take this! I'm leaving you for good this time.." It started as a shout but Matthew speaks the last sentence with a quiet malice. The threat hangs in the air and John hears the kitchen door open.

Then there's a sob and Sherlock is speaking fast and desperately. "No, please, Seb, I love you, don't leave me. God, please."

John froze. I love you. Sherlock loved Matthew.

"What did you just call me?" Matthew's voice was low and dangerous, weirdly familiar to John. A shiver runs through the doctor but he can't remember where that voice is from.

"I.. I didn't mean it. Matty, honest. I.. It just slipped out." Sherlock sounded scared now. Like a frightened, corner child.

John was starting to worry. This was not the Sherlock he knew and this was definitely not the kind and gentle relationship John had seen over the past few months. Matthew was never so hostile.... when John was around, anyway.

"I'll let it slide, this time. But if you ever call me that again..." He doesn't finish the threat.

"Does this mean you'll stay?" There was silence for awhile "Please, I love you. Please stay."

I love you. It hits John all over again.

"You love me. Little Sherlock Holmes, always trailing after me like a bloody puppy, ready to do as I say and let me control you. You're so perfect like that, you know that I'll never heal from what happened and you still put up with it all. Because you love me and I need that... Such a shame, things might have been different if it weren't for--" Matthew's twisted speech was cut off by Sherlock.

"Don't. Don't think about him, Matthew. He ruined you, used you and treated you horridly. Don't think about it"

John was really confused. Him? Matthew? Seb? Love? Sherlock, a puppy?

None of it made sense. John had a sinking feeling that Sherlock wasn't in such a loving relationship after all.

"Thinking about him reminds me why I'm here..." Matthew says, chuckling darkly.

John tenses up. That didn't sound good.

"C'mon, let me show you how much I love you" Sherlock flirts

I love you. Another hit.

John thought for a moment. Seb? Where had he heard that before? He knew he had heard it before, but where?

It wasn't until Sherlock's bedroom door closed that the realisation hit John, easily making him forget about the familiar name. 

Matthew was using Sherlock. And Sherlock knew it. Yet, he did nothing because he loved him.

*

Over the next week John paid close attention to Matthew. Now that he wasn't just looking at him and wishing to be in his place he could see the clear signs of just how messed up the man was and what he was doing to Sherlock.

Nearly everyday John spots lipstick marks on his neck, fresh ones, and he notices Sherlock noticing the marks and saying nothing.

He notices how Matthew never says I love you back. He notices how the couple have sex almost everyday. He notices how Sherlock blindly obeys Matthew. But most of all he notices how Sherlock would occasionally flinch when Matthew wraps his arm around him.

It sickens John. So he thinks carefully about it and plans what he wants to say to Sherlock.

One day, after Matthew had left for work, John approaches Sherlock and shoves a book into his hands. Sherlock blinks at him, holding the book with a confused frown as perches on his chair.

"Read that line" John points to the line in question.

Sherlock's eyes drop to the page and he quickly sans over the words, his face dropping.

"We accept the love we think we deserve" John recites

Sherlock looks up at John for a few moments before dropping his gaze back down to the book and saying nothing. He doesn't response in anyway other then those few moments he looked John in the eye.

The doctor had seen it, in those few moments. He'd seen all the pain and negativity Sherlock was hiding and he had a feeling Sherlock had purposely let him see, as a silent, maybe unconscious, cry for help.

"I can tell you now, Sherlock..." John speaks quietly, giving a small pause to ensure he had Sherlock's attention "You don't deserve that. You deserve a much better love than that and he doesn't deserve any ounce of your love. He never will"

Sherlock choose silence as a response but John knew he was listening. The doctor could almost see the cogs of Sherlock's mind working double time to form a response, perhaps a lie, for him to say to John. 

The detective doesn't speak, however, and just continues to stare down at the book as though it were the most interesting case he'd ever got his hands on.

Sherlock was even smiling a little... and that really confused the hell out of John.

Without a word Sherlock stands and thrusts the book into John's hand, staring him directly in the eyes. John takes the book and raises an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Sherlock asks, his voice and expression revealing next to nothing. His tone was only a tad sharper than usual.

John frowns and kisses his teeth as he tries to think of a way to get the detached detective to open up to him.

"You do know he's cheating on you, right?" John questions.

An argument is likely the best way for John to understand Sherlock better. Friendly chats got John no where with this man. Anger and argument however made Sherlock say a lot of things to prove he was right, even personal things.

It was a very manipulative move on John's part but if it meant helping Sherlock...

Sherlock froze at the question, his eyes turning cold and hateful as he stares back at his friend.

"Yes" He hisses the word "I know"

"Everyday. With multiple people" John adds.

"John, shut up! This hasn't got anything to do with you. You don't understand" Sherlock crosses his arms.

Not long, John thinks, and they'll be screaming at one another.

"I understand perfectly well. You love" Sherlock flinches at the word "Matthew. But you shouldn't do this to yourself. It's got to be hurting you"

"This is nothing to do with you" Sherlock grits out the words, giving the doctor an icy glare and towering over the shorter man.

"I'm your friend, Sherlock! I'm looking out for you!" John straightens, glaring back despite how intimidating Sherlock's height can be.

Sherlock squares his shoulders and takes a large breath, in an attempt to calm himself, as he turns so he's facing the doctor more than before.

"John, if you don't keep your nose out of my business.." Sherlock steps closer, so they're nose to nose "You'll need to find a new place to live"

The detective gives John one more cold glare before moving around the doctor and disappearing into his bedroom.

John blinks, completely and utterly shocked.

That didn't go as he expected.

They argue all the time, about all sorts of things that Sherlock cared for. His work, his friends, his experiments. He'd said many nasty things in the heat of an argument, countless insults of John's intelligence for example. Never, however, had he threatened to kick John out of the flat.

He wouldn't actually make John leave, would he?

John swallows, knowing very well Sherlock wasn't one to just threaten and not follow through on a threat.

Hell, he'd probably move Matthew in the same day John packed all his things.

That thought made John's gut twist in both concern and jealousy.

With a shakey sigh, John runs a hand through his hair and stares down at the floor. He then looks down at the book in his hand, wondering how else he could approach this situation. John puts a bookmark on the page with the quote about deserving and accepting love. He then closes the book and places it on the table.

"Oh God..." John sighs "What am I doing to do?.."

*

The sounds and words coming from John were in no way pleasant or polite. Sherlock, the stubborn git, was sitting at the kitchen table with a full English sat in front of him but he wasn't eating it. He'd shoved it away and crossed his arms like a child who wants ice cream instead of what their parents gave them.

John was very close to picking up the frying pan and hitting Sherlock over the head with it. It was always extremely annoying when Sherlock got this way. So bloody childish.

"Sherlock..." John sighs "You haven't eaten since the start of the last case. That was three days ago. Please bloody eat something or I will force feed you!"

Sherlock raises his head to glare at John, eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't"

John leans forward, bringing their faces closer as he smirks. "Wouldn't I?"

Sherlock huffs and leans back, arms still crossed. A few moments pass and Sherlock still doesn't get anything off his plate. John was reaching for a bit of toast to shove down the stupidly skinny detective's throat when Matthew trails out of the bedroom dressed in a suit.

Sherlock straightens and his eyes shamelessly roam over Matthew's body.

"You look s.." A glance at John. "Uh, good. What's the occasion, Matty?"

Matthew smirks and walks over, dropping a kiss on Sherlock's cheek.

"I have an interview for that job today." He explains.

Sherlock nods, giving a small tight smile. "Be careful. She's a brat"

John had learnt by now, with six months of their shabby relationship and Matthew practically living here, that Matthew worked as some kind of guard or at least something that requires a contract and each job lasted between a month and a few years. John's guess was that he was a bodyguard. That was probably how he got that scar on his neck.

"She's five, Sher" Matthew laughs, standing straight and frowning at Sherlock's breakfast.

He looks at John briefly with a small smirk. John narrows his eyes. He'd made it no secret that he disliked the man, especially now. Matthew raises an eyebrow, just looking amused by John's reaction.

He looks down at Sherlock again who, by now, had uncrossed his arms.

"Sherlock, you need to eat" Matthew frowns again (as if he cared, John thought) and pushes the plate closer to Sherlock again.

The detective gives a small sigh before he leans forward in the chair and picks up his fork, silently beginning to eat.

Matthew smirks at John, victorious about the fact he'd gotten Sherlock to eat and John clearly hadn't. A few minutes later, Matthew's out the door.

John huffs and sits down on his chair. Sherlock eats the entirety of his breakfast and John may or may not have muttered a curse or two as he washed up.

*

John had walked in on the two kissing far too much for his likening. It wasn't too bad, though. Sherlock always stopped and put a bit of space between his boyfriend and himself. They'd greet John and then head for Sherlock's room or they'd leave the flat and head to Matthew's flat.

This, however, was the worse time he'd walked in on the couple.

They were sat on the sofa, Sherlock in Matthew's lap, and Sherlock was pressing open mouth kisses up Matthew's jaw, along that nasty scar he had. He'd just come back from a three day trip to some client's house, so naturally Sherlock had been missing him.

It was easy for John to see that Sherlock was pressing his groin right against Matthew's, moving his hips in slow circles. The detective couldn't see him, he had his back to him and when Matthew spotted him, he just smirked and moved Sherlock's hips against him even more.

A loud moan escapes Sherlock, rumbling in a way that John found so incredibly sexy but also absolutely unbearably disturbing because he knew it was Matthew causing that sound.

Quickly, John turns on his heels and rushes back down the stairs. He goes to Ms Hudson's flat, not needing to say a word to explain why he was there. She knew.

They sit and chat and laugh but John still feels sick. Ms Hudson gives him some medicine, and a sad smile, but they both know that the sickness he felt wasn't one you can cure with any pills or syrup.

When John comes face to face with his best friend later on that evening he was grinning like he was the happiest man in the world. Matthew must've been on sparkling form...

The doctor barely manages to return the smiles and greetings before excusing himself and dragging his feet up the stairs to his room. The medicine kicked in enough to make him fall into a peaceful slumber but it did nothing to the sick feeling in his stomach.

Maybe leaving Baker Street wasn't as bad an idea as he originally thought...

*

Laughing. That's what John could hear. Laughing and sobbing mixed together, blending and moulding into one like the sound itself wasn't sure what it was supposed to be.

When he enters the room what he sees shocks him. Sherlock is sitting in his chair, by himself, with a glass full of scotch in his left hand. He's laughing/sobbing, tears running down his red cheeks and his lips stretched into a large smile that looks painful and like the detective is working really hard to keep it there. He's got bruises and cuts on his face.

"Sherlock?..." John asks, slowly approaching.

He didn't know what to expect. Sherlock could be pretty unpredictable at times. The whole ordeal with Magnusson proves that.

John stops, the situation hitting him. Sherlock is crying. He's sat alone, hurt, drinking, in the dark and crying! John pauses again, panicking. What does he do?

What does anyone do when Sherlock Holmes cries? No.. That's the wrong question.

What does someone do when their best friend is crying?

Without giving it a second thought, John approaches and kneels beside Sherlock, squeezing the top of his arm.

"Sherlock. Talk to me."

Sherlock laughs again, more hot tears running down his face as he shakes his head. He starts to raise the glass to his lips again but John takes it off of him and places it on the table, far away from Sherlock's reach.

"Hey! Jawwwwn. Gimme my drink back." The detective pouts, seeming unaware of the way he had rivers running from his eyes.

"No, Sherlock. Not until you tell me what's wrong..." John's eyes then go to a red mark of Sherlock's cheek. "You've got a cut.." John trails off, reaching out to inspect the wound.

Sherlock bats his hand away, glaring at him. "I deserved it. I don't shut up."

Had it not been for the first part of that statement, John would have laughed and agreed that yes Sherlock doesn't shut up when he really really should just shut up. But for Sherlock to say he deserved to be hit, for him to get off that throne of his that he sits on all day long.. Well, that was just wrong.

"Right... Let's get you to bed, yeah?" John asks, using a soft tone before he helps Sherlock stand which ends with John supporting 90% of the detective's weight.

Sherlock was quiet through the struggle to the kitchen but the moment they step over the threshold he seems to become very talkative.

"I miss him already..." Sherlock whimpers quietly, nuzzling his cheek against John's shoulder.

"He doesn't deserve you. You should be with someone who actually gives a shit and will love you and cherish you and always be there" He made sure to leave out the bit where he would do all that and more for Sherlock.

"Like you, John?" asks the drunk detective, giggling a little as he does.

John pauses for half a step.

"Yeah, Sherlock, like me." and at this point, John found he didn't much care if Sherlock remembered this in the morning.

Sherlock goes quiet for a few moments and John focuses on leading the staggering man into his bedroom.

When John had sat the detective on his bed, he takes two large steps back and offers a smile before he flips the switch from 'friend' to 'doctor'.

"Sleep it off. I'll bring you tea and headache tablets in the morning."

Sherlock goes to protest but John shakes his head and walks forward, pushing on Sherlock's shoulder so he's laying down.

"Go to sleep."

Sherlock nods, not even bothered that he was still fully clothed - including shoes.

John smiles and turns to leave the room. He needs to go to bed too, maybe plan a few ways to murder Matthew (not that he didn't already have a few) and then wake up early so he could nurse Sherlock back to his usual arrogant self.

He didn't get there, though. Not before Sherlock spoke.

"John?"

Immediately, John answers. "Yeah, Sherlock?"

"Tell me you love me. I know you do. Tell me. Please..." He sounded the same as he did that day John figured out Matthew wasn't the saint he made out to be.

John had no idea what to say to that. He wasn't that surprised that Sherlock already knew that he loved him. If he was honest, he doubted there was much about John that Sherlock didn't know.

"Sherlock, I don't think -"

"Please, John"

John takes a small breath from he says the words Sherlock wants to hear. "I love you, Sherlock..."

He'd gone completely red in the face, he just knew. If the light was on, there was no doubt in John's mind that Sherlock would be able to see how pink his ears had turned. 

When Sherlock speaks again, the smile was evident in his tone. "Thank you. It's nice to hear."

John doesn't say anything else, just leaves the detective to sleep.