Work Text:
Sherlock stares himself down in the mirror. This is the third outfit he has tried on today. None of it is working.
"What in the bloody-"
He mutters under his breath, tearing apart drawers and throwing clothes around his room.
"Its not working why won't it work?"
It creeps into his mind. Slowly at first before tumbling in, bashing every other coherent thought. The useless dreaded feeling of not being man enough. Not enough to be considered what he'd wish. The dehumanizing emotion killed off anything left in his brain at that moment, and each bit of logic went with. His knees bent, legs no longer functioning as his hands went to his hair, pulling out few strands. He fell to the floor, clutching his head as his eyes wobbled back and forth with each quick breath he took. The world blurred, his body seemed no longer to exist, and his befuddled mind spiraled from a distance.
Yelling out in agony he stands up, limbs trembling to the point of uncontrollable vibration. Hands moving across every surface of the room until they rest on a small box.
The needle.
Through the skin and into the body. The injection was not the thing causing pain. Within seconds it provided relief, and some sort of coherent thought finally reappeared. The decrepit emotion dribbled down and out his mind as most of it left nothing. Multiple injections followed to ensure that the pain stayed gone for a long while.
After approximately 15 minutes of lying still on the floor, a single thought appeared.
*"i'm sorry John"*
John.
His clothes.
Sherlock, limbs still weak but functioning, climbed up to John's bedroom. He discreetly took a sweater and shirt to go with a pair of trousers. After setting the clothes over his body, he quite enjoyed the picture in the mirror.
He started back downstairs to watch the television until John came back home.
John arrived home to find Sherlock resting in the chair, the TV on a documentary about bees. Sherlock was wearing John's beige sweater over a light pale blue button shirt and black trousers.
"Sherlock?"
John held his shoulder, shaking lightly. Sherlock woke almost instantly, groggily looking up at John before his thoughts resumed.
"Ah, Jawn, yes I wanted to talk to you about a case-"
"Uhm, Sherlock?"
John interrupted, looking with concern.
"?"
Sherlock's face assumed a puzzled expression as to say 'go on' and 'what could you have possibly interrupted me for' in a simultaneous glance.
"My clothes?"
John resumed, looking at Sherlock more intensely
"What about them? They look fine to me I don't think there's a-"
Sherlock rambled on, carefully inspecting John's outfit.
"No, Sherlock, why are you wearing my clothes?"
John interrupted again.
Ohh. That.
Sherlock thought as he began another sentence.
"Oh yes right well, I had some trouble..this morning with my...closet"
John nodded in response. It was a sort of unserious nod, with the intent of 'I know you're lying but I won't bother to press you for details'.
Instead of words he sat down in the same chair as Sherlock, leaning against him carefully.
"This alright?"
John asked Sherlock, making sure he was comfortable to cuddle in that moment.
"Alright."
Sherlock responded quietly, resting his chin on top of Johns head.
The bee documentary played in the background as they held each other for many moments.
"Sherlock"
John asked quietly, breaking the almost silence made by the television.
"Mm?"
Sherlock mumbled in response.
"Your arm".
John had seemed to have rolled up the sleeves slightly on the sweater, revealing swoll marks where the needle had punctured the skin.
Sherlock, scared of judgement frantically moved to explain but was interrupted by John, who replied slowly.
"It's going to be alright Sherlock. Next time you feel like that way, call me?"
John spoke softly and reassuringly, calming Sherlock down, who only nodded in response.
They continued to hold each other, silently watching the television until night fell, where they would fall asleep peacefully in each others arms, waking up the next day to a case, and another moments worth of struggle, followed by the care of John Watson.