Johnlock One-shots

227.Jailed

I was too lazy to make a story so I just copied and pasted part of a roleplay I have with one of my good rp buddies. I'm John, if you're curious. Some things might be off that you don't know of because this rp is so long and has been going on for awhile.
(A man was killed and the blame fell on Sherlock so John decided to cover for him.)
(Kymi is John's cat.)
At the end of this, I start to write because the rp with the actual person would get to like, and I'm not joking, 5,000 words, and he didn't have his response in yet for the last thing I sent. So anyways, enjoy.
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Sherlock approached John's cell. He looked so sad, and it was all Sherlock's fault. He felt awful. There was a loud buzzing and the door unlocked. He stepped inside and walked over to John, standing in front of him. "You look terrible," He said, smiling a bit. He was so happy to see him, he probably could have cried, but he had enough of his emotions.

"Don't look at me." John mumbled and put his hands over his face, trying to hide himself. "I do look terrible, and I deserve it. Even if I hadn't committed that murder, I still deserve to be here, and I miss you so much but I can't even talk to you."

Sherlock frowned. Maybe he was going to cry after all. He sat down on the small bed next to him and wrapped his arms around him. "You don't deserve to be here, John, and I'm going to get you out. I swear it." He kissed his forehead and pulled away. He glanced down at his hands. It was probably about ten minutes since he last took something, and his hands were starting to shake. He frowned.

John put his face in his hands and curled up more. "Oh god, Sherlock, I miss you so much." He sat up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "I wish I could go home with you. It's so depressing in here."

"Well, who's fault is that?" He asked, a little condescending. He was still mad at John, but he'd do anything to free him. Anything. "I can't stay long. I've got four clients waiting for me to review their cases. B-but..." He looked back down at his hands, clenching his fists to stop the shaking. "Your case is my top priority. I think I've almost got it solved." He rubbed his back.

John buried his face between Sherlock's neck and shoulder, gripping onto him. He'd barely ate anything these last few days and had not even moved much, he was just laying down and curling up, he cried a lot too. He looked just as terrible as he thought he did. John reached over and took Sherlock's hands, holding them with his own. "Okay... Th-thank you."

Sherlock dropped John's hands and cupped his face, making him look up. "I mean it," He said. "Your trial's in a week. I'm going to be testifying. Mycroft will be there. He knows you're innocent. Lestrade knows your innocent." He kissed his forehead, then he nose. "The media's picked up on this, and no one out there thinks you did it. There's no way you'll go to prison for this." He brushed his thumb over John's cheek and smiled.

"You're ridiculous, John." Sherlock frowned. "Look.... I know you didn't do anything, a-and I've come to realise that I haven't d- done anything. So... just tell me - did you 'confess' to keep me safe? It's important you tell the truth." He didn't want John to say he actually did it. Why would he? John wasn't the type to kill just for fun.

John nodded stiffly and buried his face against his friend's neck and shoulder again. "I wanted to keep you safe," he whispered quietly. John pulled away and cupped Sherlock's cheek, leaning up to kiss his lips. "I could never let you go to jail," he was still speaking very softly so no officer could hear him.

Sherlock frowned, keeping his face relatively expressionless. Really, he wanted breakdown and cry. This was all his fault. He knew he'd never forgive himself for this.  He took a deep breath. "You're an idiot," He mumbled. "Seriously. That's the worst thing you could have done." He kept his voice quiet, but he felt like yelling. "This --" He gestured around, "id what happens when you let emotions affect reasoning."