A Chance To Stay Alive - Johnlock

24) The Storm

It was apparent that the many Chemo sessions and the encounter with his mother had taken a great toll on Sherlock. It was March time and the curly-haired boy laid curled up on the sofa, wrapped tightly in his usual blanket with his eyes closed. His skin was now a much paler colour and his weight was steadily dropping, something that John found quite scary. The blonde boy sat silently beside his boyfriend, watching him closely and laying a hand on his chest, listening to his gentle breathing.
"Sherlock? You still awake?" He whispered, nudging the curly-haired boy hopefully.
Sherlock mumbled something before carefully opening his eyes and gazing up at John. His face was grey and his eyes were tired.
"Yuh-huh," he hummed, nudging his head back against the pillow and huffing.
"How d'you feel? I-I've asked Mrs Hudson to bring you some tea," John croaked, realising how pathetic he had begun to sound.
It was fair to say that he too had been struggling with Sherlock's recent health. John was scared of losing him.
"I'm fine John don't worry about me, how's your novel going anyway?"
The blonde boy gave a small shrug and laid down next to Sherlock, wrapping his arms around the skinny boy.

"None of the publishers are accepting it," he explained quietly, closing his eyes and hugging the curly-haired boy.
"I might just scrap it."
The curly-haired boy immediately frowned at this, giving a quick shake of his head.
"But I've read your drafts, why would you want to scrap it? They're really good John," he muttered disapprovingly.
John gave a sheepish shrug before leaning back against his boyfriend.
"But you seem to be the only person who actually thinks that," he explained solemnly, watching as the curly-haired boy's chest rose up and down with his soft breathing.
"Then they're wrong!" Sherlock cried suddenly, sitting up and wincing, staring at John with cold blue eyes - something that was extremely unusual.
"S-Sherlock.." John faltered, his eyes widening in horror as he tentatively reached out a hand to touch the boy.
"Please it's okay just get some rest." 
The curly-haired boy did nothing for a moment before running his pale fingers through his hair and sighing.
"Don't pity me," he warned flatly.
"Don't bloody pity me John Watson."
Immediately taken aback by this, the blonde boy retreated - watching Sherlock worriedly.
"All people ever do is pity me," Sherlock continued, his voice quiet and deadly.
"But I don't want that. I don't want to be known as weak or ill, I just want to be known as Sherlock Holmes."

The flat was silent for a moment before Sherlock suddenly began to cry, hot tears dribbling down his pale cheeks as he slumped back onto his mountain of pillows and buried his face into his blanket. But what he had said was all true. He laid there shaking momentarily before he felt John's warm arms wrap around him and the blonde's boy head pressed against his chest. The skinny boy gave a final sigh before shifting slightly onto his side and holding to John, closing his eyes peacefully.
"I'm sorry," he whispered nervously, running his finger's through his flat-mate's golden hair.
"I don't know what came onto me."
He could hear John murmur something under his breath just before he piped up, gazing up at the curly-haired boy with hopeful eyes.
"It's fine Sherlock, I understand," he reassured him, managing a weak smile before retreating back into the arms of the boy. 
"Just remember I care about you."

After half an hour the tears had eventually stopped. Sherlock and John laid snuggled together on the sofa, both draped in a blanket watching a murder mystery on TV but failing to pay attention to it. Although Sherlock had already managed to deduce who the killer was so that was evidently settled.
"I love you John," the curly-haired boy mumbled suddenly, causing John to turn quickly to face him, a goofy smile on his face as he processed the words.
"I love you too you doofus," he chuckled, leaning back against Sherlock's chest as their fingers intertwined.
The taller boy gave a small smile at this, giving John's hand a quick squeeze of reassurance.
"And you know what," the blonde boy continued, his voice now confident.
"We'll get through this together Sherlock, you and me."

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