Hazel- Johnlock

Untitled, heh who needs a name?

Chapter 1
I was falling. Plummeting. My hair whipped at my face, as I reached out desperate to grab onto something, anything. But there was nothing. Just a black void that surrounded me. Suddenly a face flashed in front of me, sneering at an unheard joke. I tried to scream, but it was useless. No one would hear. No one would come. No one would save me. My back collided with the floor, knocking the air out of my lungs. I was shocked when I opened my eyes to see a ceiling looming over me, the ceiling of my room. I was shivering and I was covered in a horrid cold sweat. I hated dreams, no, I hated nightmares. That nightmare. I thought it had stopped, I hadn't had the nightmare, hadn't seen that nameless face, since I left Cornwall. Pain erupted down my back and head as I sat up, the room becoming a dizzy blur. I sat up with a grunt of pain, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Sherlock?" A voice said, scurrying to be at my side. Molly. We were sharing a flat, her and I, while she was at college. 221B Baker Street in London. She was studying science, in hopes of working in a morgue when she is older. I worked closely with the police, helping them with, or more solving, the cases. The DI apprentice, G. (Graham? Geoff?) Lestrade, is usually very keen for me to 'help' with the cases. They can't solve them without me. Of course.
"You've been asleep for a while, but I don't think it was comfortably" She noticed, "I heard a crash so I came to see what happened" Molly was a nice person. I could put up with her. Unlike the rest of the insufferable gits in this world.
I stood up and brushed past her, heading into the kitchen grabbing a glass, filling it with water before gulping it down like I hadn't drank in a few days. I tossed the glass in the sink clumsily, not caring if it broke. I need to clear the image of the face out of my mind. I decided that a shower would be the best course of action. I peeled myself out of the damp clothing, dumping them on the ground before climbing into the warm stream of water. I closed my eyes and turned my head upwards, letting the water hit my face. It wasn't the first time I had that nightmare. That man's face appearing each time. Who was he? Why does he just suddenly appear like that? He scared me. I never let my emotions get the better of me. But look, my body is betraying me, my hands are shaking and any sudden noise made me jump. I hated to admit it, but I was terrified. After calming down, and this was long after the water started running cold, I turned the shower off. I towel dried my hair, making a point at not looking in the mirror, for I knew my eyes would be bloodshot and puffy. It didn't take me long to realise that I hadn't brought my clothes in to the shower room with me, so I tied the towel I had used to dry my hair around my waist and walked out of the room.
I knew Molly would be upstairs in her room, possibly with a guy. This flat has three bedrooms, but we had had trouble finding another flatmate for the other room upstairs, they all seemed to find me aggravating or didn't like my experiments in the kitchen.
I was appalled when I found a person sat on my bed. I had no idea who he was. He had sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but looking closer, I could see that he was training as an army doctor. He looked up towards me, and looked startled.
"Can I borrow your phone?" I asked, holding out my hand.
"I- what?" The boy replied looking me up and down uneasily,
"Can I borrow your phone?" I repeated calmly, he blinked once and nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it me.
"Thank you" I took the phone. Expensive, many scratches all over the casing and an engraving on the back, 'Harry, Love Clara xxx'. I quickly sent a text to Lestrade, then handed the phone back to him. He checked what I had sent and blinked in slight confusion.
"How's your brother? Has he sorted his drinking problem yet?" I asked, grabbing a t-shirt out of my wardrobe and slipping it on. The boy looked pointedly away from me so I was able to put some trousers on.
"What?" The boy repeated himself from before, I sighed lightly, he is going to be like all the others.
"Has your brother's alcohol problem been sorted?" I repeated again, I hated repeating myself, but it was something I had to do often in this boring world. I placed the damp towel over the back of my desk chair,
"No, it hasn't been sorted, how did you know?"
"I didn't know, I saw" I sighed, why didn't anyone understand this? Why didn't anyone open their bloody eyes? I ran a hand through my damp hair and flopped down onto the chair at my desk, resting my feet by the laptop.
"How did you see that then?" The boy continued asking,
"Pass me your phone again" He handed it over, "Very expensive, you wouldn't waste money on something like this when you're going to be deployed soon, why would you waste money on a phone you won't use? So it's a gift."
"How did you-"
"Scratches, all over the phone, it's been in the same pocket as keys and coins, so carelessly cared for"
"Hey, I don't-"
"Then the engraving, Clara? Who's Clara. It is quite clear that you're dating Molly."
"How-"
"The three kisses, romantic attraction, most possibly a wife, Molly isn't married nor is she getting married. This Harry gave you his phone, meaning he left Clara, not the vice versa as he would have kept it, sentiment or what ever. This is a new model, no more than six months.So the marriage ended pretty soon. I am guessing they had an argument about Harry's drinking. Now, how did I know about Harry's drinking? It's a bit of a shot in the dark, but seems I am correct, as always. The phone has scratches all over it from where he has tried to plug it in, his hands were shaking. You never see a sober man's phone with those scratches and never see a drunk's without"
"That was amazing" The boy stared at me dumbfounded,
"Really? That's not usually what people say"
"What do they say?"
"'Piss off'" The boy laughed, and took his phone back.
"I'm John" John introduced himself, out stretching his hand,
"Sherlock" I replied, shaking it. "You can have the room upstairs, it's closest to Molly's" I said, making a vague gesture in the air towards the direction of the room.
"How- actually never mind"John grumbled and stood up, walking to the door, to where Molly was waiting.
"Her lipstick is on your cheek" I called after him, but he either ignored me or didn't hear as he didn't respond.
I wandered over to my bed and flopped down on it face first, dreading how loud those two are going to be. John seemed an okay guy, better than the other ones Molly has brought back here recently. If Molly wasn't careful, people would start calling her a slut, if they haven't already. John is the fifth guy this month. That is a title I know her father wouldn't be happy about. I have known Molly for many years, we used to be neighbours down in Cornwall, she lived down the street from the mansion my parents owned. Limestone and quite beautiful, it overlooked the cool Cornish sea. But no matter how beautiful it was, I still hated it. Too many bad memories. Too many mistakes.

John hardly left my side during the second month of him moving in. Him and Molly seemed to be having arguments all the time and John wasn't getting any sleep nor was he eating, he was getting worse than me. Oddly enough I didn't mind John being around me, he was funny and really the only person I didn't mind spending the whole day with, plus he didn't get too angry at me for my experiments that cluttered the kitchen. He, unlike others, including the majority of the police, helped me try and figure out the Carl Powers case. He is an understanding guy, contrasting what people usually are like. I've begun to like him, he is the first friend I've ever had, and I am so grateful for him.
I pulled my violin out of its case, and started playing a tune, walking around the room in time with the song. John soon walked into the room scowling at me,
"Sherlock, please it is really early." He said, he was wearing the bottoms of flannel pyjamas, which stopped just above the ankle and were covered in images of sheep.
"It's not like you were sleeping" I noticed, continuing the playing of the song. Molly had gone out, avoiding John as much as possible, she has gone to another guy's house, judging by which pyjamas (or lack of) she had taken.
"I was trying" He grumbled before walking to my bed and falling on to it. I looked over at him for a second before continuing. After a little while, I realised John hadn't spoken in a while, so I looked over at him checking if he was okay.
"John?" I asked, and received nothing in response, just his slow steady breathing. He must of fallen asleep. I went to his room, retrieved his quilt, as he was asleep on mine, and returned to my room. I placed the quilt carefully over him and I looked down towards him,
"Night, John" I softly said, brushing a hand over his hair, but pulled it back as if I had just touched fire. What was that? It was like a bolt of electricity, sharp and painful, but also warm and reassuring. It was like something I had never felt before. What ever it was, it didn't disturb John. I grumbled slightly and walked out the room, leaving John in peace.

{ John }
I woke up, confused and disorientated. I lifted my head slowly, I had my quilt, but I wasn't in my room. I sat up fully, soon recognising this room as Sherlock's. I must've fell asleep. I had been spending all my time with Sherlock recently, I think that is one of the reasons Molly is so angry at me. Jealous? Of what though? I'm not gay. Sherlock is a very good friend; he's witty, clever and quite frankly, beautiful. Okay, I admit it, though I have denied it when people have asked me, I like Sherlock. But, of course, he doesn't like me in that way. I'm actually surprised he likes me at all, well at least a little more than everyone else.
I stretched before getting out of the bed and walking to the kitchen, to see no Sherlock or Molly, they must have gone out. I started to make a cup of tea but as I poured the water from the kettle to mug, it began fizzing, before an explosion. I was thrown backwards, hitting the far wall.
"Ow, fu-" I started, everything around me was black, I couldn't see a thing. There was a painful dull thudding in the back of my head where it had hit the wall.
"John?!" Sherlock's deep voice filled the room, "John, are you okay?" He asked, and I jumped slightly at how loud his voice was.
"I-I don't know" I realised, "I can't see anything" Sherlock mumbled something then picked me up, carrying me out of the kitchen. Everything began fading, the sound of Sherlock's footsteps and the smell of the smoke erupting from what used to be a mug, until I passed out.

Chapter 2
{ Sherlock }
"John?" I said, as I saw some movement in his bed of the hospital. "John?" I repeated, as John groaned lightly, shifting his position. I sighed, and returned to my position leant back in the hard chair I was sat in. I had been sat here all morning, and the affects of the plastic chair were starting to demand to felt. I groaned slightly and changed my position.
"Sherlock?" I looked over to John, who's eyes were wide open and looking around frantically.
"John, are you okay?" I asked, as he continued blinking and moving his head around as if looking for the source of the voice. Even as he was looking directly at me he didn't seem to notice.
"Sherlock? I can't see you, or anything for that matter" John said, his head turning so it was facing straight ahead. The blow was much worse than I had originally thought.
"Sherlock, what has happened to me?" John asked, his voice so small I felt something inside me shatter into thousands of pieces.
"Your tea exploded" I mumbled, I was slightly confused, I don't remember using that particular mug for an experiment, but then again, who else conducts experiments inside a mug?
"H-how?" John stuttered, his unseeing eyes wide.
"The m-mug" I coughed, "The mug had a small amount of caesium inside of it. The caesium reacted with the water in the kettle, causing an explosion and you hit your occipital lobe when you were thrown backwards into the wall. I must have done an experiment in the mug and forgot to throw it out. B-but I don't remember doing an experiment using caesium. I keep a tiny amount of caesium in a secure-"
"So this is your fault? Your fault I have lost my vision?" John interrupted, raising his voice. "Your fault!" He exclaimed.
"John, John please" I said, as John glared at me. "John-"
"No Sherlock, this is serious" He cut in again, "You and your bloody experiments!" He continued shouting at me, I dropped my gaze to the floor.
"I won't be able to join the army now! Nor do anything! No one wants to hire a blind man."
"John, forgive me" I said.

Neither of us could afford to move out. Molly had already left us to live with her new boyfriend. She said that John's eyes were unnerving as they just stared in one direction, not moving. Personally, I found them fascinating. But I could never say that to John. He hates me. He has given me the silent treatment ever since he first came out of hospital. Before that, I got thrown out of John's room because he started shouting too loud and it disturbed other patients. The problem is, I had to do all the jobs Mrs Hudson, his new carer, couldn't do. Since she only worked from 9am until 8pm, I did a lot. John had quit his training as an army doctor, and spends his days stumbling blindly about the flat, and for the most part, grumbling. I often try and figure out a way to make John forgive me, but I know it won't happen.
I currently laid on my sofa, my back to the rest of the room, trying to think of a scenario which would make John forgive me. I knew it was useless, something like this couldn't be forgiven. I still don't believe it was me who left the mug with caesium inside it on the side. I am quite careful with chemicals like this one.
"John" I said, turning around so I was facing the living room. "John?" I called again, louder this time. I got a grunt in response so I knew he was listening.
"John, do you want to go out somewhere?" I asked, and John was silent as a response, so I took that as a no. I sighed lightly and grabbed my coat and scarf, but stopped moving as I heard an audible curse from behind me. I turned around to see John trying to put his coat on, backwards. I smiled and walked over to him, and without asking, I helped him into the coat. He grumbled a 'thank you' then grabbed his cane. His cane was a deadly thing, I've seen him use it. He swings it about. almost knocking everything over. He's hit me in the ankle with it a few times, but I think that has been intentional. I opened the door for him then followed him out.
"Where are we going Sherlock?" John asked, as he waved his stick around.
"Can you stop waving that around?" I asked.
"No, Sherlock, I need this to see" John replied, but I reached over to him and removed the cane from his grasp.
"I'll guide you, a lot more harmless than this thing" I said, linking my arm with his. John sighed, but didn't move away from me.
"Sherlock, I need my cane back" John complained, using the hand that wasn't holding mine to try and find the stick, hitting my chest, or more stomach due to his height, multiple times. I held it up higher out of his reach, laughing slightly at his feeble attempts as he tried to reach it.
"Sherlock, for God's sake give me back my stick!" John complained, still searching blindly for the cane. But, as he was unable to see where his hand was, he managed to send his hand flying into my face, hard. I stumbled slightly, while he doubled over with laughter after realising what he had done.
"Being blind has its advantages" He laughed, as I scowled at him, checking if my nose was bleeding.
"Unfair, John"
"Unfair?! You stole my bloody cane!" I sighed and linked our arms again, swinging the stick back and forth like Mycroft does with his umbrella. He seemed to be becoming his old self again, which I was very glad about. I just hoped where I was taking him would help him forgive me more. Or at least make him enjoy a bit of time outside of the flat. What is better than taking him to a crime scene? Lestrade had texted me about it earlier this morning, and it was too interesting to just not go. The fact John was coming made the crime even more interesting. Double murder. Lestrade might also be able to help me convince John to forgive me.
John grumbled the majority of the walk there, so, to shut him up, I hailed a taxi. I helped him into the cab before following behind him, sat at his side. He stared straight ahead, while I stared straight at him, taking in all his features. From his sandy hair to the hideous jumper he was wearing. However, no matter how hideous the thing was, it worked well on him.
"Sherlock"
"Mm?"
"Stop staring at me"
"I wasn't staring at you" I replied, taken aback by his comment, how did he know? He turned his face over to me,
"You are, I can feel your breath" He said, leaning his head back on the head rest. I sighed and looked out of the window, but regardless of what I saw, none of the views were as good as John.

Once the cab arrived at the crime scene, I pulled John out of the taxi.
"Sherlock, where are we?" John asked, and in truth, I had no idea. The cab sped off leaving us alone in a dark alleyway, completely silent. This isn't right.
"John, don't move, don't speak" I whispered to him, scanning the area around us.
"What why?" He asked,making me hush him. There were no police here, no sign of any sort of crime, apart from the graffiti that covered the wall. I knew for a fact I had given the address Lestrade had sent me, so why were we here?
"Stay here" I said to John before walking forward to study the graffiti, nothing special, just the usual chav writing. I sighed and turned back towards John, when I saw red dots scattered over his body. Sniper lights. Instantly, I walked over to him, pressing my back against him, searching for the source of the dots.
"Sherlock! Get off me!" John exclaimed, trying to pulling away from me, but the hands I had clasped behind his back held him tightly in place. No matter how skinny I was, I am still strong.
"John, be quiet" I said, still looking around.
"Sherlock Holmes, unhand me now or I will call the police"
"You don't have your phone"
"I'll shout. HELP-" I sighed and turned around so I was facing him. I placed a hand over his mouth to stop him from talking any more.
"Watson, if you don't shut up right now I will-" I was cut short by a startled gasp escaping me. Pain erupted through my leg, causing me to fall the floor.
"Sherlock?" John voice sounded thick with worry, "Sherlock? What happened?" I tried to reply, but couldn't say anything, the pain was too great.

{ John }
Sherlock crumpled to the floor at my feet. I heard a muffled gun shot just before he fell, making the awful grunt of pain. What happened? I lowered myself to the floor beside him, and searched his body for the wound which the gunshot had caused. As my hands grazed over his body, I felt my skin heat up slightly, but I ignored it as I kept searching. I soon found the small wound, directly in the middle of the thigh. I had to admit it was a very good shot. I placed pressure onto the wound before searching inside his coat pockets for his phone. Before noticing a small problem, I couldn't see the numbers to dial.
"Sherlock" I said, hoping he was still awake. By a miracle, he still was, but barely. "Sherlock, call 999" I said to him, and he weakly dialled the number. It only took me a second to realise another problem, I had no idea where we were, and it wasn't like I could describe this place to the operator who picked up the phone. I cancelled the call, just as Sherlock shifted his position, but that was the last movement he did before passing out. I ripped the trouser leg off his trousers before wrapping that around his thigh, with the amount of times they make you do this in army doctor training, it was fairly easy to tie this blind. Now I had to find away to get Sherlock somewhere where someone could patch him up properly. The pressure of the makeshift bandage should keep the wound from bleeding too much for now, but he needed something better.
"I have to say, that was very fast acting, John" A voice said, the alleyway making it echo in an odd way so I couldn't tell where it came from. But the voice was warm and flowing like hot chocolate, and almost comforting.
"Who is that?" I asked, getting to my feet, being careful not to stand on Sherlock as I did so.
"I was hoping Sherlock would be awake to say who I am, but sadly my friend got a little trigger happy." The voice replied, "He was a nice guy, shame really, but I can only let the best live, so I have dealt with him"
"Dealt with him?" I asked, and the voice laughed loudly- an unnerving bark. I kept my foot up against Sherlock so I knew he was still there, I was worried that this man would take him away.
"You don't need to worry, John, I am not going to hurt you or your friend. Yet, anyway." You could hear the sneer in his voice, I shivered at the sound.
"Who are you?" I asked again, hoping this time he would answer, when suddenly his phone rang. I jumped at the noise, but since the sound echoed in an eerie way, I couldn't make out the tune. I heard the voice sigh, and answered the phone. I heard none of the conversation, until the last second.
"What?! If I find out this is true, I will skin you" The voice shouted, causing Sherlock to shift slightly.
"Sorry, Johnny-boy, but I am going to have to leave.I will definitely be seeing you and Sherly again before too long, hopeful, he will be awake by then" The voice laughed again, then I heard the sound of footsteps moving away from us. Once they had faded completely I lowered myself to the ground, to Sherlock's side, hoping he would wake soon. After a few minutes Sherlock shifted again, with a grunt of pain.
"Sherlock?" I said, and he tried to sit up quickly. "Woah there tiger, slow down" I added as Sherlock swayed from side from side with dizziness. He grunted with pain again, I felt him reach down and touch where his wound was, wincing again.

Chapter 2 part 2
I'm an idiot and left some out in the last post yay

{ Sherlock }
I scanned around, my gaze landing on John, checking for any injuries. Thankfully, he seemed to have none.
"We need to get going" I said, attempting to stand, but felt another shot of pain radiating through my leg. John sighed and stood up, holding his hand out to help me up. Gingerly, I placed my foot on the ground, but the pain was too great, so I balanced myself by leaning against John.
"Are you okay Sherlock?" John asked, and I nodded,
"Let's go home" I said, leading John out of the alleyway.
"Sherlock, your leg" John said, and I looked down to my leg, the blood was starting to seep through the leg of the trouser.
"It is fine, I will sort it out when we get back to the flat." I replied, with a quick glance towards John
"No. It isn't" I replied,
"It was shot pretty badly Sherlock, you need to have it bandaged properly." John said, and you could hear the concern in his voice. I sighed, someone would ask me why I have a bullet wound in my leg, and that is not something I want to explain. People might start to have the suspicion that John was the one who had shot me, as neither of us knew who the shooter actually was. John had described his voice to me, and he described what the voice had said. But none of this helped me identify who it was.

We entered the flat and I found the first aid kit we kept in the kitchen, John still helping me balance properly. I got the roll of bandages out, and I moved away from John and leant against the counter.
"I'll tie it for you, if you want, but it won't be very neat." John asked.
"Don't you think I can't tie a bandage?"
"Just trying to help" He mumbled before walking out of the kitchen, he seemed to make it to his room okay as there was no crashing nor was there any swearing. I sighed lightly, all of this was my fault, he should be able to see and not have to carry that ridiculous stick of his around with him everywhere he goes. For the first time, I felt something I had never felt before- guilt. There was something else, too, but I couldn't work out what it was.

Chapter 3
A short one because I am too lazy

"Left John! No the other left. My left you idiot" I shouted to John as the mug he was holding became precariously close to being dropped on the floor. He was trying to do the washing up, as he felt guilty that Mrs. Hudson had to do all the work around the house. However, the majority of jobs required you to see what you were doing, and John lack the capability of being able to see what he was doing. I had to stand and watch so he didn't cause any damage to anything in the house. John still couldn't find the edge of the sink, so I walked up behind him, guiding his hand over to the draining rack. As my hand touched his, I felt it flush and the sudden burst of heat confused me, causing me to keep a hold of his hand. Not wanting to let go.
"Sherlock?"
"Mm?"
"I need to finish the washing up" I regrettably let go of his hand, and I hated the cold feeling that rushed over me as soon as I did. John returned to his washing up, me standing beside him, watching him closely.
"Sherlock?"
"Mm?"
"Stop staring at me"

Over the next few days, I hardly left John's side. When I wasn't at his side I felt weird, alone, even if I was surrounded by people. I tried as much as possible to not leave his side, always claiming it was to help him. My hand always brushed his, or I stood close enough to him so our sleeves were touching. The warmth that came from him was comforting, unique and unlike anything I have felt before. And I liked it.
"John, we are going out" I said, as I grabbed my signature coat and scarf.
"Where?" John asked, walking over to me and I helped him into his coat.
"Out, Lestrade wants help" I replied, linking my arm with his just as he put on the blacked out glasses. People stare at him when he isn't wearing them, and I should know he hates it when people stare at him. Also, it gives me an excuse to link my arm with his without it looking too odd. People had already started congratulating us, I presume it is because they believe John and I are together. I think it is an odd thing to believe, I like John, but I am not entirely sure in what way. I definitely like him a lot more than I have ever liked anyone before. But then again, I haven't had anyone who has stuck around me long enough for me to actually think of them as a friend. Yes, I have known Molly a long time. But she wasn't a friend. We never spoke outside of the flat when she lived here, and then the conversations were very one sided. I never listened to them, too boring.
I hailed a taxi, and as always, pushed John into it first. I told he driver where we were going before sitting back into the seat, and stared at the thing I always do, John. I took in his every feature, deducing what I could about him. I studied his scruffy sandy hair, he never bothers to style it any more, he doesn't believe there is a point. I studied his eyes, they were looking a lot less tired then they did just after I had gotten shot, which meant he was sleeping a lot more.
"Sherlock?"
"Mm?"
"Stop staring at me" I chuckled at the repeated line, but this time, unlike every other time, I didn't move my gaze away from him and continued staring, quite happily. I didn't want to look out of the window, we could be travelling through the Wisteria Tunnel for all I care, I just wanted to look at John. It took me a few minutes the taxi had stopped and we had arrived. I took one last glance at John before getting out of the cab and helping John out. It was a short walk before we arrived at the crime scene. I linked my arm with John's and led him along the path. It was clear I was distracted, I couldn't think properly about anything, which resulted in me making John bump into someone.

Chapter 4
"For God's sake Sherlock, be careful. Sorry" He said, with a smile at the person. I glanced over at the girl, and wrinkled up my nose at her outfit. She was wearing a top which shouldn't be classed as any form of outer layer clothing, it ended just above her waist and clung tightly to her body. But, then again, this was a more than usual outfit for Molly, but at least she was wearing jeans and not those ghastly shorts she usually does with that top. Her eyes flickered up towards John's, then dropped quickly.
"I'm sorry John" She sounded drunk, very drunk, an emotion flicked over John's face, but vanished just as fast as it had appeared.
"Molly, it is fine" He mumbled, Molly grinned lightly and took a step closer to him. She placed her hand on his chest, pushing away from me and into a wall, and John's discomfort was clear. Why though? He had slept with this girl many times, so why did he just push her away from him? I was glad he did though, as when she touched him, a white-hot poker of jealously had stabbed me, the pain was scolding. Molly looked very displeased with John pushing her off and moved towards him again. John pushed her off once again,
"Molly, no." John said firmly, and Molly hissed at him slightly. But as she tried again, something snapped inside me. I reached towards her, and grabbed her hair, it wasn't like I could yank her away by her collar is it? I pulled her off John and she squealed loudly, I hated it when she was drunk. At least when she was sober she was at least a bit kind.
"Sherlock! Let go of me!" She screeched, but I didn't, "Let go or I will do exactly the same to you as I did to John!"
"What?" John asked, and she cackled,
"C'mon. Sherlock isn't the only one who can handle chemicals. I am so surprised Sherlock didn't dejuice-dedoose- didn't see it straight away" Molly hiccuped loudly and I yanked Molly's hair harder.
"So I have taken the blame for what you did?" I asked and she burst into a fit of giggles,
"He deserved it. He didn't think about me. All he mentioned was you. Sherlock this, Sherlock that... He was obsessed with you" I glanced over to John, who's face had flushed red. I smiled lightly before turning back to Molly,
"So you made an explosion to take the attention back to you? Quite brilliant, I didn't think you'd do that, I congratulate you" I heard a cough behind me, oh, bad timing. I tugged a bit more on her hair causing her to yelp.
"Sherlock, let her go, we need to be going." John said, and Molly grinned as I let go off her hair.
"Listening to your boyfriend are we?" She asked, I opened my mouth to reply but I was cut short by John.
"Of course he is" And with that his hand tangled itself with mine. Molly's face dropped and so did my gaze, I stared at our hands, this was a new feeling. Yes, we link arms so I can guide John, but this was something different. There was no material between us. Just hand on hand, skin on skin. John's hand was warm and tense, probably because of Molly's presence. However, the holding hands wasn't what caught me off guard most. It was the fact he agreed with someone about us being in a relationship. He never agrees. He always says 'I'm not gay' or 'I am not with him'. So why isn't he denying it now? Why the change of heart? Many questions buzzed through my mind, but the only one that I listen to was 'Why do I care?'. I was brought back to reality when John poked my shoulder,
"Sherlock" I was still staring at our hands, and his was starting to go slightly white. I looked up, Molly had staggered off some where, and John looked slightly pained. At first I thought it was because of Molly, but then I realised how hard I was gripping his hand.
"Oh, sorry" I quickly let go of his hand and he flexed it, returning the flow of blood to it. He smiled lightly,
"Should we continue this outing?" He asked, and I nodded, I holding out my arm for him to link his too. But he reached out to my arm and slid his hand down it, finding my hand. He held gently on to it, a small smile flickering on to his face when I didn't let go.
"Are you going to tell me where we are going now?" He asked,
"I already told you, Lestrade wanted help."
"Last time you said that you ended up with a bullet in your leg."
"That was a mistake, I double checked with him this time." I replied, with a gentle squeeze of his hand before walking again. This time I paid more attention to where I was leading John.

Wait what chapter is this

We reached the crime scene not long after our encounter with Molly. A young woman with dark curly hair stood by the police tape, I hadn't seen her around before and I didn't know who she was. Though, I did know who she was sleeping with- Anderson.
"Who are you?" She asked, looking down towards John's and my hands which were still linked together. "Oh. You're the freak. I've heard about you" She added, looking me up and down.
"How much did Anderson tell you yesterday evening?" I asked, smiling at her and I felt John groan slightly beside me. "Or were your too loud for you to hear anything?" The girl looked confused, she looked up from our hands to my face squinting lightly.
"You're doing that thing aren't you?" She asked, and before I could answer a hand slid around her waist.
"The freak isn't bothering you, is he Sally?" Anderson asked, looking slightly up towards me. She shook her head, her curls moving side to side as she did, still staring intensely at me. I winked as she lifted the tape and allowed me onto the scene, pulling John along with me. Lestrade greeted us, after double-taking at our hands. I found this all quite amusing. Lestrade starting explaining the scene to us, but I blocked him out. I let go of John, a rush of cold hitting me but I ignored it as I swooped down to look at the body splayed out across the floor. The body was female, obviously, and it looked as if her clothing had been ripped of her. Rape? No, no it wasn't rape. I reached to her left hand, brand new ring, no marks on her finger. She has only had this ring for less than a day then. Her mascara was smudged and tear stained, professionally applied, like her hair. That had been done by a professional also, but strangely it was wet, which meant rain. This also meant that she was murdered on her wedding day. Her wedding dress had been torn from her body, to hide it. But the smell, apart from the usual smell you get around dead bodies, was new, and foul.
"Lestrade, find out everyone who has got married in the last day, that includes in Scotland"
"Scotland?" John asked
"Of course, Ireland. Her hair is still slightly wet from rain, and the only place it has rained in the last two days has been Scotland. But why is she here if she was married in Scotland? Someone is trying to trick us. I voiced my concern to John, who shrugged lightly; a cute gesture really, I shook the thought away as fast as it came. This was because all the air had been sucked out of my body, and the world had become a black void of nothingness. I couldn't see John, Lestrade or the young woman's body. I heard a voice and whipped my head round and saw the face. But there was a difference this time, he was walking towards me, still grinning. But he didn't stop as he reached me, he walked straight past. I was confused and turned around to face him. I gasped at the sight I saw, John had appeared, and was being held up in the air by his neck.
"John" I shouted, trying to run towards him, but nothing happened, I couldn't move, I couldn't run towards him and help him. His scream was louder than the man's laugh, and the sound ran through my body. I shouted his name louder, trying to reach towards him and help, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything.

Chapter 6? Yeah let's say six
{ John }
"Sherlock?" I heard Sherlock crumple to the floor. I carefully lowered myself to the floor and fumbled about until I found my way to his side. I called his name again, but his writhing body moved about to much, and a hand swung round and hit me. I continued to shake him, trying to wake him up, but it was no use. Suddenly a scream rang out,
"John!" It cried out and Sherlock continued writhing and screaming. Why wasn't he waking up? I was being to panic. Usually, he wakes up as soon as I say his name, but this time he wasn't. I shook him again, gentler this time, and a sudden rush hit me. I wanted more than anything to lean down and kiss him, and I almost did. I would have if his eyes hadn't shot open when I was inches away from his lips. He took a sharp intake of breath and I moved away from him.
"Sherlock? What is happening?" I asked, my hand fumbling about to latch onto his hand. I gripped it lightly as his breathing slowed to a normal pace.
"Don't go near the hair" He breathed, his voice slightly croaky from the scream, he  took another deep breath.
"What?" I asked, my hand gripping his a little tighter..
"The hair, John, it is drugged" He said, in hat an-idiot-could-have-known-that voice, even when he had just been drugged he can be an insufferable know-it-all.

{ Sherlock }
Of course. Stupid. STUPID! The smell wasn't hairspray, I could easily smell it now, but I wasn't able to recognise it. But why did that happen? I mean when I was drugged in Baskerville I didn't become unconscious. But, then again, I couldn't smell the drug in that fog. I sat up quickly , which made be feel woozy, but I didn't care. This was something new. And I needed to find out as soon as possible to what this drug was. It was then I heard John's voice talking to me, I must have blocked him out.
"Shut up" I said simply, he looked angry at me for a second, before I sparked up a second, and he looked confused. I stood up, forgetting about John's hand holding on to mine, meaning I dragged John up with me. "Lestrade,  send a sample of that hair to the lab, John, you're coming with me"  I said, and John looked confused as he was dragged behind me.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" He asked, following obediently, his hand still clinging on to mine.  
"This is something new John. New!" I shouted at him, dragging him out onto the street to find a taxi to hail. Once we had gotten inside the taxi, I sat grinning to myself, but not moving my gaze away from John, he sighed lightly.
"Sherlock. You know what I'm going to say" He said, twiddling his thumbs.
"Mm, but I won't stop" I replied, still grinning. I reached over to him and took one of his hands in mine, linking them. He sighed slightly, but didn't let go of my hand. It was easier to think when I was staring at John, as everything around me just seemed to evaporate, and all that was left was John, my thoughts and I, a world without stupidity, and I adored it. Once the taxi had pulled up outside of Baker Street, I jumped out of the taxi and headed to the door.
"I'll wait here, shall I?" John called out to me. Oh, right, he still needs help. I spun round on the balls of my feet and trotted over to him, helping him out of the taxi. I dragged him into 221B, and once we had arrived up the stairs I pushed him into his chair and ran into my room. I spent a good few minutes searching before I found the big black book. I flopped onto my chair opposite John, the book landing with a thud on my lap as I opened it. I noticed how annoyed John looked at me, I had been dragging him around every where, probably not the kindest thing to do, I flicked through a few pages of the book,
"Sorry" I mumbled, and John perked up slightly,
"Pardon?" I knew he had heard, a blind man's hearing is a lot better than any seeing man's. I snorted at him and he grinned at me. "Did the Great Sherlock Holmes just apologise to me?"
"Shut up"
"Make me"
"Fine" I placed the book on the coffee table beside me and leant over to John, pausing when I was mere millimetres away from him. I took a small breath before my lips collided with his.

God knows how slowly this thing is going. But hazel ill finish it for miss maggy
"What else can you tell me?" I asked, my eyes pressed against the microscope looking at the hair sample from the body.
"Surely you have something in that ridiculous mind palace of yours to tell you more about it" John replied, he sat next to me, leaning against my arm slightly as I worked.
"Yes, but I like to hear you confirm what my mind says" I noticed, not moving apart from to zoom in more with the microscope. John fidgeted beside me, if that was anyone else I would be very annoyed with them by now, but John was different, different to everyone else. I didn't mind the little habits he had that, if he was anyone else I would have shouted at them, told them to get out. But if John wasn't there... If John was to go, I..I think the world would be empty. There would be no reason for anything. But John was here, he will always be here, and he was currently explaining everything he knew of magic mushroom, and he had spoke a lot of facts, but none that were any use. The only problem I had found was that magic mushrooms required eating to make them effective and I had quite clearly not eaten her hair. Some sort of acid must have reacted with it, causing it to make a undetectable gas. Oh, this guy was clever. I laughed aloud,
"This guy is clever!" I exclaimed clapping my hands together. John was startled by my sudden outburst and I had to reach out and catch him before he fell. I smiled slightly, wrapping my arms around him, and pulled him closer to me. "So clever " I grinned, keeping John in the hug.
"What?" John asked, his voice muffled by my shirt. I kept my arms around him as I told him my hypothesis, before standing quickly, catching John so he didn't fall. Once I had steadied John, I rushed out of the room, then remembered that I should probably help him, but I was in too much of a rush and it was too much effort to lead him, so I plucked him off his chair. x
"Sherlock..?" I ignored him as I carried him bridal style out of the lab. He complained the majority of the walk out of Bart's. But I discounted all his comments as I walked, I had the sharp sensation in my upper stomach when I glanced down towards him, very similar to the one that struck when I had kissed him. It can't be indigestion, it is a different feeling, plus coincidental and the universe is never that lazy. I can't lie, I like this feeling, no matter how new and odd it was. After a long half run/half walk, I arrived at the crime scene, and shoved John, gently, into a chair. The woman's body had been removed, but that didn't matter. I paid a lot more attention to the surroundings this time, swooping low to the ground to scan the floor. I soon spot what I required and sat on my knees, staring at the wooden floor board. It had a gap just big enough for me to fit my fingers down and remove from the ground. I grinned at what I found; a box. I removed it from the hole and placed it beside me. It was the size of a cigar box and was made out of dark grey tin metal. I lifted the lid and frowned at its innards, just a balled up tissue and something else. In this lighting I couldn't tell what it was. I placed the two items back in the box and closed the lid, deciding to examine everything when we got home, knowing it was getting late and John was probably hungry.
"You're not going to carry me again are you?" John asked as I approached where he sat drowsily.
"Only if you want me too" I said, shoving the box in my pocket and, seeing John yawn widely, I decided that was my answer. I picked him up bridal style, again, ignoring his protests, and kissed his forehead. He sighed and cuddled into my chest as I walked out of the building.

Eight, which looks like the infinity sign sideways. Maybe 8 is the infinite number and numbers above that don't exist.  

"Sherlock" John's voice sounded from the kitchen. I ignored it. "You need to eat something. I can get Mrs Hudson to make you something if you want" He said, using his stick to guide himself into the living room, I still didn't like that thing. But I tolerated it because he would crash into things and I cannot be there to assist him at every second of the day. Also, with this new case, random items had been scattered around, so he could just bump into things. John's safety is priority. My hands remained steepled underneath my chin. as I stared down at the tin box. "Eat something Sherlock" John added as I didn't respond to him before. But this time he just got a head shake, my only clear response to his statement.  I reached towards the box and lifted the lid, as a sighing John sat down beside me, resting his head against my arm. I picked up the balled up tissue and carefully unravelled it. In the light of the crime scene, there seemed to be nothing on it, but in the brighter light of the flat, I could make out some pencil writing. I scanned over it, male writing, 2B pencil- meaning artist. Most people just have HB pencils, 2B only come in artist drawing sets. Now, what was actually written made no sense to me.

I looked over to John for his opinion, but his eyes had closed and he was breathing softly on my neck. I smiled at his peaceful expression that was always on his face when he slept. Carefully, I untangled myself from him and rested him on the sofa. I squinted down at him. No, not comfy enough, his neck will hurt in the morning. But I couldn't be bothered to climb the stairs to his room, so I resulted in picking him up and walking to my room. I knew I wouldn't be needing it anyway. I gently placed him onto the bed, covered him in the quilt and smiled again, leaning down to kiss his forehead gently.
"Goodnight John" I murmured, and after a second of me staring down at him, John stirred.
"Sherlock, stay" He mumbled, the words hardly recognisable, he lifted his arms up like a baby wanting attention. Sighing, I climbed onto the bed beside him, and, instantly, John cuddled up into my chest. I placed my arms around him, and with that, I forgot about the case and everything surrounding us in this room. All my attention was on the fascinating man that currently resided in my arms. I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the sweet smell of him and tea. I felt so content at that moment, and I welcomed the feeling of drowsiness with open arms.

John was the first to move in the morning, which received a well earned grumble from me. I heard him chuckle and get up, moving away from me. I groaned again and tried placing an arm over him to drag him back down, but couldn't reach
"Jawn" I complained, my arm in the air trying to reach him, and again he chuckled. He took my hand and kissed the tips of them before letting go and letting my hand drop to the bed with a dull thump. He walked out of the room, leaving me alone in the bed. Grumbling, I swung my legs out of bed, a good ten minutes after John had left, and walked into the living room. I spotted John on the sofa and walked over to him. I placed my legs over the top of his and nuzzled into his neck, not allowing him to move. I grumbled a few insults at him for leaving while he traced circles with his fingers on my back. We sat in silence for a few moments, before the words on the tissue popped into my mind. I mouthed along to them at first, before saying them aloud. The next thing I heard was John singing. I looked up at him confused, moving my head away from his neck so I could hear him more clearly.
"Every day I look at the world from my window. But chilly, chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine" He sang, then fell silent for a second, "Waterloo Sunset, by The Kinks. Why were you muttering the first verse?" I moved away from him and grabbed the tissue that had been left abandoned on the table. I didn't answer John's question as I stared at the writing. Why this song? Waterloo? 15/07? Wait... That's today.
"Waterloo Station, sunset" I exclaimed, causing poor John to almost fall off the sofa.
"What?"
"He's going to be at Waterloo Station at sunset."

A Filler Chapter :3
Sunset came quicker than I thought it would. I have always liked dusk, the golden glow from the sun glistening over the city of London, and John and I where sat on the steps of Waterloo station, waiting for our mysterious man to arrive. John was leant against me slightly, his head on my shoulder, I could hear his breath close to my ear. I took his hand, drawing circles with my thumb. I knew for a fact our guy won't present himself in public like this, it was way too busy, and judging by the scene with the dead bride, he wasn't one for making things obvious. Well, obvious to the average human eye. As twilight began to fade with the crowd, it occurred to me he might not be coming, or I had gotten the wrong day,but I stayed put with a John still on my shoulder, but he was becoming drowsy, and I didn't blame him. I reached my head over to him and kissed his hair before resting my head on his.
"Let's go inside, find a bench, it will be comfier than these concrete stairs." I said, kissing his hair again and slowly standing up. He nodded in agreement, and allowed me to lead him back into the building. We found a spare bench and sat down, John's head instantly dropping to my shoulder. I ran the lyrics of the song through my head, 'Dirty old river' there are no rivers around here. A lot of dirty old tracks though. I perked up at this thought. He wants to meet us by a track, which track?
"John, John, what tracks near here aren't used?" I asked, and received a small grumble from John. "Joohn"
"21-24 are apparently not used." He replied, and I sat up quickly, dragging John with me.
"Why didn't you say before?" I asked, running along and dragging the blind John behind me, only concentrating enough to make sure he didn't crash into anything or anyone. I heard him grumbling behind me, something about 'not knowing it was important' but I ignored him until we found the right platform. "Let's go" I said, and hopped off the platform onto the track (Don't do this at home kids). I helped John down in between the tracks before setting off walking again, leading the way, my hand still clinging to John's.