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Don't think, Feel.

Chapter 4

Summary:

TW: Crime Scene, Blood, Brutality mentioned, Smoking 🚬

Chapter Text

"Good night, Watson."

After Sherlock left the Scene, John stood there in Surprise. He had never seen his Friend like this before and he always thought that Sherlock Holmes wouldn't get hurt just by a few Words and yet here he stood, freezing and confused about what just had happened.

"Dad, I peed the Bed..." Was the first thing John could hear as soon as he entered the Apartment again. Rosie stood there with a small, baby blue blanket in her Hands, holding it tight to her chest to snuggle up to the soft fabric. It was a Gift from Sherlock, given to her a few Weeks after she got born and since that Day, Rosie wasn't able to sleep without it. She treasured it the most, next to the stuffed Animal in the form of a little Raccoon she got from Mary back then. John let out a sigh. Of course Rosie had to stick to the things the People John had lost gave to her. Wait...lost? He didn't lose Sherlock, did he? It was just another argument they had, nothing new, nothing bad. He'd apologise to Sherlock for not clearly hearing him out and everything would be solved. It was easy, right? There was no need to cause a scene nor to turn it into a whole science lesson.

"It's alright sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up and change the Bedsheets." John smiled softly at her, his Hand gesturing to the Bathroom.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked as he tugged Rosie once more into her now fresh blankets, making sure the Raccoon and the small blue blanket were near her to hold on tight if needed.
"Dad... Why didn't Sherlock come inside?" Rosie whispered, followed by a Yawn. She had seen her Father and Sherlock from her Window after she had looked for John to tell him about the little night accident. 'No more juice before Bed', she had thought before spotting the two Men outside in the cold.

"He had to go Home. I happened to see him from the Window and just said Hello." He lied. He wasn't a fan of lying and especially not if it meant he had to lie to his daughter but some things weren't meant for children's Ears to hear and John wouldn't want to make her Worry. It wasn't the Job of a Child to listen to the cries of a Parent and by all the means, it wasn't Rosie's duty to listen to John's vents.

After he managed to put his little Gremlin to sleep again, John sank down onto the Couch, followed by a heavy sigh. He would apologize to Sherlock and hear him out tomorrow. It couldn't get worse over night anyways, right?

While John tried to forget their little fight and looked forward to solve it the next Day, Sherlock couldn't calm. As soon as he had entered the Flat he walked up and down, circled around the Room and even laid down on the ground with his feet up on the Wall but no matter how many positions he had tried, he didn't understand what had happened. Hanging upside down was one way to cause the blood flow to reach the Head faster, hoping it would make his Brain work faster and yet he only had blank spaces inside his Mind. Was he truly relapsing again and John was right? He knew he wasn't as strong as he pretended to be and yes he was hiding his insecurities and weaknesses behind his brilliance, solving Case after Case just to get distracted from what a Mess he actually was and not showing the World how his Mind truly looked like. All his life they had call him a lie detector and a Robot. An Alien, a Maniac and Sociopath but the Word that was haunting him since Childhood till this Day was the word Freak. He understood the meaning of it very well and Sherlock had accepted that he was one in some way or another but hearing it from John was unpleasant. It left a bitter taste in his Mouth and a tight feeling around his Chest. After John had call him a Freak, Sherlock felt as if the Ground under his Feet had collapsed and no matter how much he tried to hold onto something, he couldn't stop the Fall. Was he meant to fall after all? The one Person who he had always felt safe with and somehow even understood was now using that one Word Sherlock had hoped he'd never hear from him because then he was convinced that it was true. All the bad Words that were spat with Venom towards him, all the accusations and the hits he had taken, all the hard Work of convincing himself that they were just talking nonsense because they were too small minded suddenly turned and twisted on Sherlock and for the first time, he thought that they were right all along.
"Am...I..." He mumbled as he slowly got up. Every step felt so heavy and every moment felt as if chains were attached to him, trying to pull him down once more but he managed somehow to get to his Room. While he opened his Coat, he looked at the small Mirror in his Wall, noticing how he had always tried to avoid to look into it at all cost. Sherlock avoided Mirrors no matter where he went, not because he had a Problem with his appearance, he thought he was average looking so there was no point for avoiding his own Face and yet he hated looking at it. He feared it. He feared the deductions he would make about himself and the possibility of confirming every bad Word the World had said about him.

After he took his Coat and Scarf off, he didn't even bother anymore where it landed and threw it into the Corner of his Room before his Head turned back into his previous position, facing the Mirror once more. They were right...

"I...am a Freak."

 

Since that Day, almost a Week had passed and John's plan of apologizing to Sherlock tomorrow got moved back and forth, causing the two Men to not speak to each other for a few Days now. John thought that the issue would solve itself. How badly could it be if Sherlock is quiet about it, right? Sherlock never shut up, he would fight God so he could be the one who has the last Word so John was convinced that their little argument wasn't that bad after all if the Detective didn't spend every free minute to rub it under John's Nose.

"Breakfast!" Rosie demanded, causing John to snap back to reality while holding a yellow plate in his Hands with Bacon and Eggs. He could only hope for this plate to never fall and shatter in million pieces, otherwise Rosie wouldn't eat anything anymore. It had to be this yellow plate and John didn't know if it was because it was her favourite colour or if she just had a phase in general but he didn't mind. If it made her happy, he'd go with it.

While John and Rosie enjoyed their breakfast, Sherlock got a message from Greg who asked him for help in a new Case. This was the last thing Sherlock needed which was unusual for the consulting Detective. Solving Cases was his priority for years now and also a way to get his kicks somewhere else instead of through a needle in his Veins and yet he wasn't motivated nor excited at all.

"You alright?" Greg asked him after Sherlock still arrived at the Crime scene. The dark circles under Sherlock's eyes spoke thousands of Words but the detective himself chose to only use the shortest way of communication. The Case was the priority and not his well being and especially not to play Therapy with Gavin. Or was it Greg? He'd just stick to Lestrade to be sure not to cause another Drama.
"I'm fine." He sighed while observing the Scene. The Victim was a tall Male with dark wavy Hair and a small Tattoo on his Cheek. His Coat was torn apart and a "SH!" was carved inside the Skin of the Victim, added by a silence sign next to it.

"He was off Work but he wasn't heading Home. He was..  at a Bar." Sherlock started to deduct as he leaned forward to take a sniff.
"Dog." He could hear some Detective's whisper with laughter and normally Sherlock wouldn't mind it but after the incident with John, he couldn't help it. With a heavy sigh, he started to smell at the Corpse again. "The smell of Alcohol is fading as well as the smell of the Cigars. He didn't come far, he was probably drunk and the nearest Bar that also offers Cigars is the Lux. You should head there to-" Sherlock said but got cut off by a Street musician who just got out his Guitar and started to Sing. His Voice was pretty and caught the Attention of a few People as he sang "Tonight you belong to me".

"Excuse me, did you Sing here last night as well?" Sherlock cut off the Street musician now who stopped his Singing with a confused expression. "No, I usually Sing when the Sun is still out. Giving me the Creeps at night here." The musician answered, causing Sherlock to sigh before he went back to Greg. "Let's check out the Lux ."

The Lux itself was a popular Bar but nothing special in particular. Sherlock and Greg asked around if someone had seen their unknown Victim, who didn't have an ID with him nor a Wallet in general but nobody in the Bar could tell them something except for the Barkeeper. "That Boy was nervous, always babbling about how he finally found the Woman of his Dreams who truly understands him. He probably wanted to meet her Yesterday." He told them.

After they gathered enough information, Sherlock and Greg stood outside the Lux again, taking deep breaths while sherlock got out a cigarette.
"Since when do you smoke again?" Greg asked with concern in his Voice. He knew Sherlock had stopped smoking and tried to stay clean even from normal cigarettes. They even had the same Nicotine patches so why on Earth did Sherlock start smoking again? And what would follow after a Cigarette?

"Sherlock.. are you-" but Greg couldn't finish his sentence due to the annoyed Glare he got from Sherlock, followed by a "Can you shut it for once."