Johnlock One-shots

323.Surprise Present

I know I said I wouldn't be on here, but our campground is soaking wet. It has been raining non-stop since yesterday, and I'm stuck inside the tent, bored as heck. So hey, fanfic. Lucky you guys.
I got inspiration from online. Uhm, sorry if you don't celebrate Christmas. I grew up celebrating Christmas, and even though I'm atheist, I still celebrate it, because I like the gifts and stuff.
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Last month, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes’ best friend and trusty assistant, disappeared without a trace. Sherlock had been looking for him ever since.

He wasn't the type of person that cared about holidays, either, but ever since John had moved in, Christmas was amazing, and he didn't want to miss their tradition. (They would always get a little drunk and make out, then completely forget about it the next day and continue being friends. That was amazing for the both of them. [Lestrade had recorded them a few times, too, and they all laugh about it. The seasonal John and Sherlock making out sessions weren't that bad.])

Sherlock had been feeling empty ever since John was gone. He'd spend all day and night looking for clues about where John would be, then pass out after days of staying up.

It was Christmas Eve, and Sherlock was crying. He was staring at a badly stood Christmas tree with police tape, and shiny things, and a skull on top. He had made it himself. He had John's cane leaning against it, too.

“I'll find you for Christmas, John…” Sherlock tapped on the cane softly.

As well as wanting John, Sherlock couldn't imagine what John was feeling-- if he was still alive. Being kidnapped, and held up, and probably tortured, on Christmas day. John had always liked the holidays. He must've felt miserable.

But, as much as Sherlock wanted to find him, he had been up for five days, and he wanted to sleep. He shuffled into bed and laid down.

He woke up the next day. Sherlock sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking around. He got out of bed and changed, took a shower, and combed his hair. Then, he walked into the living room.

The second he walked into the living room, he felt like his heart stopped. Sitting beside the tree, the client chair had been pulled out, and sitting on the chair was John Watson.

Sherlock moved closer. John looked unconscious, or at least mostly unconscious. He had no shirt, and a bright tape that read, 'Don’t open until Christmas!’ covering his mouth, to prevent speaking, and breathing from the mouth.

Sherlock was so surprised he couldn't even make deductions. He rushed over to John, who opened his eyes weakly and stared at Sherlock.

“Oh, my god, John…” Sherlock immediately began removing the tape, and the ropes that tied him against the chair.

John collapsed into Sherlock's arms. He wasn't that beaten, but he looked thin and weighed little. Sherlock hugged him tightly.

“John, oh my gosh…” Sherlock choked up. He held John's body close. “John, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

“Guh…” John wheezed.

“Okay, not a word, but uh… a sound.” Sherlock rubbed John's bare back. His fingers slid over something that felt like paper.

He gently ripped it off, as it was kept there with tape, and read a little note.

'Dear Mr Holmes, thanks for letting me keep your darling assistant for so long. He was a pleasure to have over! But, ugh, he loves you so much. He kept saying you were going to find him, and that you were going to be there for him. You weren't! Even though, I decided I would return the gift. Treat him well, John is such a cutie~! No wonder you keep him around! Hope to see him again. ❤’

Sherlock hugged John tighter. “John, what did that creep do to you?” He whispered.

John frowned and leant into Sherlock's chest. “Food…”

Sherlock stood up. “Oh, of course!” He helped John stand. He brought him to his chair and went into the kitchen to get him food. The second Sherlock stepped into the kitchen, John started to cry. Sherlock hurried back. “John? John, what is it?”

“D-d-don’t-- don't do that!” John cried.

“Do what?” Sherlock asked.

“Leave me!” John stood up, his legs wobbly from almost a month of not walking. He stumbled to Sherlock and held him tightly.

Sherlock noticed at that moment that whatever happened to John, it was bad. It was really bad. He wouldn't even get a few yards away from protection.

Sherlock brought him into the kitchen and sat him down on a chair.

“Coo-coo!” Mrs Hudson knocked and walked inside. She saw John and she gasped, stepping back. “Oh my-- John!”

John looked over to her. “M-Mrs Hudson!” He got off the chair and ran over to her. They hugged, and she held him tight.

“Oh, John! Sherlock, you found him!”

“Not exactly..." Sherlock gestured to the chair and ropes. “He was returned.”

Mrs Hudson pulled away and looked up at John, smiling widely. “At least he's back. Darling, get him something to drink! I'll cook his favourite.”

John smiled softly. “Mrs Hudson, you're so nice…”

“Just relax, John!” Mrs Hudson said happily. John smiled and watched her walk away. He was okay for a moment, before freaking out and running back to Sherlock.

Sherlock set a glass of water on the table, then hugged John. “John, I love you. I missed you so much.” He smiled gently.

“Sherlock… I missed you, too.” He set his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, making the detective look up. They stared into each others eyes, then John spoke. “Sherlock, he… he hit me, and touched me, and teased me…” John whispered. “He… he emotionally and physically abused me… he showed me off to his friends, who did the same things to me…” John shivered thinking of it. He started to cry. “I feel embarrassed talking about this…”

Sherlock frowned. “John, don't! We'll catch them, don't worry! Don't worry! I'll never let anyone take you ever again.”

John looked up into Sherlock's eyes and tilted his head softly. “Sherlock, I… I thought you were coming…”

“I never stopped trying, John. I couldn't find you anywhere.” Sherlock frowned, moving some hair out of John's eyes. “John, I-I love you so much…”

John looked up, surprised. “Y-you what--”

“John, I love you.” Sherlock kissed him. John kissed back.

Some time later, Mrs Hudson came back with their food, and they all enjoyed it, having their own little Welcome-Home-Watson Christmas party.

----- (Picture that gave me insperation. I just... Made it darker.)