Sherlock x OC: Short Stories

Tory and Sherlock - Clumsy

A/N

another soft and protective sherlock because why not. god i really love this one, makes me feel all warm.

best wishes

-lovelyyy64

"You know, you really shouldn't be picking fights." Tory whispered as she cleaned a cut on Sherlock's chin, him tensing in pain as she did so.

"You know, I wouldn't have picked a fight in the first place if they would've just backed off." Sherlock retorted back.

Tory rolled her eyes at her boyfriend as she continued to clean the small cuts on his face. She gently felt the bruise under his eye with her thumb, seeming focused. She then handed him an ice pack to hold against it. She grabbed an ointment to put on one of the deeper cuts he had and he winced quietly in pain.

"I'm sorry," Tory said quickly, chewing on her lip. "Did that hurt?"

Sherlock glared at her. "No that felt great do it again."

Tory glanced down, feeling bad but then putting a little more cream on the cut. "I don't even know why I'm still with you," she grumbled playfully, making it seem like she was upset.

"Because you love me and I love you and you take care of me?" Sherlock said quickly, thinking that he had upset her. He hated whenever it seemed like she didn't like being with him, scared she was going to leave him.

"Exactly," Tory smiled, rolling her eyes again and kissing him on the head. "I'm done. You can get up." She grabbed the rag she used to clean his cuts and went to the kitchen, rinsing it and washing her hands.

---

Sherlock sat up, looking over at tory as she was standing at the sink. He smirked as he thought about the fight that he had just had. He was proud of himself, he wasn't going to deny it. Sure, he might have had a few cuts but he didn't mind it. He knew that he was lucky to have someone who could patch him right up. He was sure that the other guys didn't. They don't have a Tory like I do. Sherlock thought to himself, making his smirk grow wider.

---

"Sherlock?" Tory called, raising an eyebrow.  He seemed to be stuck in his mind palace, going over something. He snapped out of it and looked at her.

"Hm?"

"Are you hungry? I was going to go out and get us something," she said, grabbing her coat from the hanger and putting it on.

"I'm okay-" he started to say but Tory started talking again.

"I'll get you something. And you're going to eat because you haven't had a proper meal in three days." Tory was putting her shoes now, going to the stairs. "Bye, love you, don't do anything stupid." She took the first step down but missed the second one, twisting her ankle which had her curse in pain. She lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs. She felt a sharp pain in her side, probably from hitting the edge of a stair and a warm feeling in her arm. Why she got injured so easily, she didn't know.

"Tory?" she heard Sherlock call and speed down the stairs. "You alright?" He sounded worried, something she rarely heard in his voice.

"I'm fine, I just fell from a flight of stairs." Tory rubbed her head, her vision a little blurry. Did she hit her head too? God, who knows at this point.

"You're always telling me not to do stupid things and you just fall down some bloody stairs." Sherlock joked but Tory just glared at him.

Sherlock examined her body, checking her legs first and seeing that her ankle was already swelling up. He took her shoe off and continued to look for any injuries. He saw that blood was staining through her jacket and he helped her take it off and roll up her sleeve to see the cut. It was pretty deep even if there was a jacket padding it a little. He moved to her face and checked for any cuts. He tilted her chin up with his finger, doing so gently just so he didn't hurt her. He had sympathy running through his eyes but made sure it didn't show on his face. Tory knew though, and it made her smile.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Sherlock asked, sitting back and looking over her one last time.

Tory shook her head. "Nothing."

Of course, Sherlock didn't believe her but didn't say anything.

"Can you get up?" He asked, glancing at her ankle. Tory nodded and stood up, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she did so. But when she took a step forward, she almost doubled over in pain. Sherlock was there though, arms ready around her just in case she fell. Tears were welling up in her eyes from the amount of pain she was feeling. Not to mention the throbbing in her side was killing her, too. She didn't mention this to Sherlock.

"I got it, don't worry." Tory took another step, pain shooting up her leg when she applied pressure to her swollen foot. She continued, taking the first step up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" muttered Tory over and over again, clutching her side as she crumpled to the ground again.

"You're such a terrible liar," murmured Sherlock under his breath before picking her up bridal style and making his way up the stairs and to the living room. He set her down on the couch where tears were falling onto her cheeks. She wasn't sobbing though, refusing to say she was in pain. She had a very low pain tolerance but she tried her best to hide it. She didn't complain about pain at all, which Sherlock hated. He complained more than she did. He would never say it but it broke his heart to see Tory in pain. It hurt for him even more because he knew whenever she was in pain. Even if it was just a cut from a paper cut.

He went to the kitchen to grab a new cloth to clean the cut on her arm with and some wrapping bandages. He had lots of medical equipment ready because Tory insisted we be prepared. Now he wasn't taking it for granted. He wet the cloth and came back, kneeling in front of Tory who was just bouncing her leg up and down and biting on her lip. Tears were still flowing on her cheeks and she was quiet. He started to clean up her arm, trying to be as gentle as possible with her. She winced every now and then, clenching her fist tightly.

"Does anywhere else hurt?" Sherlock asked, wanting to make sure he treated her as best as he could.

"Just my leg and arm, that's it." She didn't even talk loudly. It was like she was ashamed she got hurt.

Sherlock could tell that something was bothering her on her side. She was holding it as she was trying to walk and she's sitting so that she's not leaning on her right side. She must've hit somewhere on that side. When he was done cleaning the cut, he lifted up her shirt a little to see where the cut or bruising might've been. He saw some swelling around her ribs but no color. Maybe internal bruising. He went on to her ankle, thinking that that was the thing hurting the most. He wrapped it tightly using the bandages.

"So much for the food," Sherlock smiled at Tory, which made her smile as well. He stood up, leaning down to kiss her forehead and walk back to the kitchen. When he cleaned the cloth he used, he started to make some tea for her.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" Tory called, not being able to see because his back was facing her.

"Making tea." He simply said, putting the water to boil.

"Could you make me some, please?" He never made tea in the first place.

Sherlock looked back at her. "Already ahead of you."