Loving The Sociopath (Johnlock)

A Chemical Defect

John was bored.

It had been two months since Sherlock had returned and there had been no cases what so ever. Whether this was Greg's doing they didn't know, but the Detective Duo were certainly bored. They had been cooped up in the flat for weeks as the news of detective's return was still new, so Sherlock spent his time tip-toeing around his friend as John was still incredibly annoyed at the detective for what he had done.

You see, when Sherlock had returned after his 2 year absence, John went through a spurt of emotions.

The poor man had quickly popped to the shop to buy some jam as he had run out. Once he had found the correct aisle, he located his favourite jam and reached up to get it. Before his hand could wrap around the pot of deliciousness, a leather-gloved hand plucked the pot from the shelf and handed it to him instead.

John muttered a 'thank you' as he turned around. Suddenly, his heart dropped and tears prickled at the back of his eyes. He peered up at the man and observed his features. His tall frame overlooked John's just how it used too, though it appeared much weaker than before. It was as if he had been hit many times and it hurt too much to stand up straight. His normally short, unruly curls were presented as dark, messy waves that reached his shoulders. He looked so different, yet John knew it was the man he has asked to come back many moons ago.

Within 10 minutes of Sherlock's return, John had managed to: cry a river, smash 7 pots of jam of the shop floor, punch the detective a couple of times in the face and get them both kicked out of the shop.

After that, John had quickly lead Sherlock back to their once shared flat (without his jam, may I just add) and had Sherlock explain everything.

Once the detective had finished explaining his actions, John claimed he understood everything (even though he really didn't) and forgave him.

Two whole months had past and the doctor still didn't quite get it. He would regularly ask about Moriarty's network but very rarely about the actual fall. Those events had crushed him and he didn't want the feeling of emptiness to surround him again.

After much thought about the somewhat depressing situation, John became certain of one thing: he didn't care how Sherlock had faked his death. He wanted to know why.

***

One sunny afternoon, after Sherlock had made him a surprisingly okay cup of coffee, Mr. Watson received a text from Scotland Yard.

I have a case for you. 16 year old girl and 21 year old male killed outside of a bar in Leicester Square but no visible wounds. Anderson thinks they consumed something but we need the 'specialist' to check it out. - GL

Great! Though, is it anything less than a '7'? You know he won't leave the flat if it is...- JW

It's definitely higher than a 7. These bodies seem completely untouched. You'll know where we are; cars are blocking the area off. - GL