bakerstreet | YOU JUMP, I'LL CATCH YOU

YOU JUMP, I'LL CATCH YOU

DARING RESCUE MEME

You're in a predicament. That predicament is either: you need to be rescued. Bad. Even if you're technically safe you need to get out of whatever situation you're in. And if you're not safe, well... it's just more important then, isn't it? Your other option of course is that you need to rescue someone. You have to find them, get them out, get them to where they really belong. Or you're like, picking them up from a bad date. WHATEVER. No matter the severity of the situation, be careful how you go about it, huh? We wouldn't want to have any accidents.

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Sherlock nods. "Alright. My shoulder is ... sore, just - be careful of that."
It's always sore.

John gets the salve and gestures for Sherlock to sit and lean forward.

He is tender and careful, much more so than Alli. Genuinely cautious as he smooths the cream over.

"...You want to do your bottom half yourself?"

"I would prefer that," he says, hating that he feels embarrassed.
I don't want ... I don't want ...

"Okay." he has no objections to that, though of course he would if asked. He's a doctor after all.

And. A friend. He wants to be.

He smooths some bio-oil over the heavy bruises on Sherlock's arm, kneeling down and gently stroking down to his hands until he's basically holding one. He's always loved Sherlock's hands.

The fact John doesn't object shouldn't surprise him, but it does...
He watches John touch his hands. "When we first ... when we first met he'd..." He's not pulling his hand away, but admitting... things to John a little bit.

"He was nice, I - I thought if ... if he hurt me I deserved it and couldn't do better anyway..."
He won't cry in front of John...

John is silent, still staring at Sherlock's hand, just cradling it tenderly with his own. A tear falls from his eye and he leans down to kiss Sherlock's knuckles, gently.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispers, his eyes closed.

Like a humble servant begging his master's forgiveness.

Sherlock frowns. He made John... cry...
"It's not..." the words stick in his throat, he can't... he can't get past a lump..."It's not your fault... I thought Victor had feelings for me. I thought... he was capable of loving me... obviously I thought the same of Alli, and I'm horrible at reading people after all." He's trying to make a dark joke, but it's not working well...

A rattled breath escapes him and he still can't meet Sherlock's eyes.

"If I hadn't been such an arse then you wouldn't have ran away and then you never would have met that bastard." he says, "But you were already putting up with another bastard. Me. And I'm wondering if some of the ways I hurt you were just as bad as him."

All the times he beat Sherlock up in anger. All the times he used his words to cut him down to size. All the times he let Mary get away with...

Sherlock hates that... it is probably true. There's no way around justifying it. "Mrs. Hudson said though... you did something ... that they never did. You admitted you were wrong and ... then went out to prove that you'd... change."

You wouldn't do that for me, would you? "At least I'd like to think so."
His other hand traces over John's, touching his palm.
"I... I am irrevocably in love with you, John."

He gives an ironic smile; "I dunno if that makes me better but...I would do anything to be the man you and Rosie deserve. You are my whole world."

That's why he was so angry after Mary died. She had said those words...and he couldn't come close to returning them.

"I've loved you since the moment you invited me to live with you."

Sherlock looks down, touching John's hand that is touching his palm.
He looks like he's going to cry.

He doesn't want to. He shivers at the chill.
"If I could be anything what you deserve, John..."

He kisses Sherlock's hand again and finally looks up at him, his eyes shining.

"You always have been."

He winces a little. Part of it hurts, part of it feels soothing like ... the salve on his back.

The moment hangs for a few seconds before John falters, unsure.

"I...I don't know if we lost the chance to be...I mean. After everything that's happened, I understand if you can't forget what I've done. And with Rosie too, it's complicated. Single widowed dad of a toddler, not exactly that attractive, hmm."

"Lovely doctor," Sherlock says, softly. "The... the piece I - I played for Rosie last night, it's ... it's not fi-finished, it's... it's a symphony. For you, mostly you, her as well, if ... you... allowed it."

It's his way of saying of course not.
"Scarred back, broken in ... certain ways. Can hardly say I'm that attractive even before all of this..."

He blushes; "Of course I do. She is smitten with you....just like her father is."

It must run in the family.

John strokes his hand up Sherlock's arm, to caress his cheek; "No amount of scars could ever ruin how beautiful you've always been."

"Not all of them are visible." It sounds stupid when he says it. Of course John would know that, but... he wants John to know ... to go back. Of course, he wants John here, but ... he can't leave again. He doesn't even know how to start what they have... whatever it is...

"Neither is everything that's beautiful." He says and almost giggles at how corny his words sound.

He runs his thumb under Sherlock's cheekbone.

"...Sherlock. Could I kiss you please?"

Sherlock nods, though he looks down, not really offering his lips yet. Not feeling clean enough to. John can kiss his cheek if he wants.

Why would he want... to?
Sherlock has nothing to offer him.

"John I-I cannot physically do the running about we did in our youth, I ... I would do more harm than good."

I'm not useful anymore.

John leans up and presses his lips chastely against Sherlock's. Nothing too much. Still cradling his cheek. Just. Getting a taste.

He pulls back, licking his lips, feeling a little fuzzy.

"Well I'm a single parent with a three year old who I can't keep dumping on other people. And I'm not exactly a spring chicken these days either. I think my crime fighting days are also pretty much over."

It's sad to admit. But so long as he has two people he loves...

Sherlock sighs, leaning in, wanting, craving the affection. He hates it, that he's so desperate...
He wants... more, but he also doesn't want to push...

He leans in to kiss him again, a cheek this time, then his nose, and then again to his lips.

"All I want...is you. Sod the adventures, if we have to. Sod the 'legends'. It's who we are that really matters."

Sherlock accepts the affection, starting to cry, but unable to explain or further verbalize.
He's useless... why do you want him, mixed with ... John loves me John wants me...

John wraps his arms around him, rocking him slightly and not wanting to let go.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I love you."

Sherlock touches John's arm. "I love you, John."
He doesn't get this lucky. He's probably dreaming.

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YOU JUMP, I'LL CATCH YOU

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