The Final Problems of Johnlock

The Final Not-So Problem

Yo guys, TRIGGER WARNING also some content in this chapter, but it is necessary to continue the plot. Thanks again!

(John)

When we arrived back to 221B, we were greeted by Mrs. Hudson giving us hugs and offering to make tea. I helped Sherlock up the stairs with the little strength I had, falling into my chair as soon as I could.

"What's wrong John?" Sherlock inquired.

"What? Nothing's wrong Sherlock, just a bit tired," I lied. Sherlock's gaze turned stern.

"Now, what have you said about lying? I just want to help, isn't that what friends are for?" That's when he went for a new tactic; puppy dog eyes. I tried to fight them, but I ended up falling victim to them after only a few seconds.

"Alright, I give up. I was just beaten up a bit, that's all," I tried to walk up to my room, but Sherlock grabbed my arm.

"I can tell there's more to the story than that John, I'm not an idiot." His gaze pierced me, so I looked away again. "Please John, tell me what's upsetting you?" He had said please. Sherlock never said please. That crumbled the final barrier, and I began sobbing. Sherlock held me tightly while I sobbed into him. He didn't even complain when my tears soaked through his shirt, he just held me tighter.

"I'm sorry Sherlock, I didn't mean to break down like that," I sniffled.

"Don't be silly John, I'm happy to help you. Now, what do you say we talk about it?" I slowly nodded into his chest, squeezing him one more time before breaking away. I giggled a bit when I saw the state of Sherlock's shirt, as it looked like someone had splashed him with a cup of water.

"It---it was Jim," I began, hesitantly. Sherlock nodded encouragingly. I took a deep breath, and continued with my story. "Jim and Seb teamed up on me, but it wasn't just beating." I shivered at the memory. "They--- they raped me," I finally choked out. Sherlock was there immediately, holding me tightly and rubbing my back comfortingly.

"It's alright now John, I won't let them touch you again." He continued to comfort me, even going as far as to make me some tea that wasn't drugged. I glanced at the clock in our flat, and realized that we'd been talking for hours. Suddenly realizing how exhausted I was after today's traumatic events, I finished my tea and put the cup in the sink.

"I'm going to bed now Sherlock," I said, finally catching his eye. "Will you--- will you come with me?" I asked softly. Sherlock practically jumped out of his chair to hug me, and I let out the breath I'd been holding in after asking him to join me in going to my room.

"Would you like to go to my room? It's closer, and my bed is bigger," Sherlock suggested. Quickly, I grabbed his hand and pulled it to my lips. I gave his hand a quick peck, then pulled him along with me to Sherlock's bed. I got into some comfy clothes, and fell asleep curled up with my head on Sherlock's chest.

(Sherlock)

I listened carefully to the sounds of John's deep and even breathing. It was one of my favorite sounds in the world, at least that I'd ever heard before. After a while of just memorizing John's breathing, I went into my mind palace to plot the doom of the men that had hurt my blogger. Nobody gets to hurt my blogger. I found myself drifting off as soon as I left my mind palace and contentedly wrapped my other arm around my sleeping blogger.

(Later)

"NO! NO! NO!" John screamed out. I was awake in an instant, waking the smaller man to stop his nightmare. John awoke with a start, and burst into tears after a second. He looked around, until his eyes locked with mine. I found myself being pulled in for a hug, and I tried my best to soothe him. When his breathing finally evened out a bit, I looked into his eyes, concerned for him.

"What happened John?" I asked patiently but firmly. His eyes left mine for a minute, probably to collect his thoughts before telling me what it was.

"I--- I dreamed that I hadn't gone with Jim for his disgusting game, but then, he got you!" His voice broke, and he began to cry again. That night, I stayed up to ensure that John didn't have anymore nightmares, softly telling him how much I loved him until the sun rose, lighting our bedroom up softly.