Hero Down

John woke feeling warm and peaceful. Sherlock’s arm lay casually across his chest and it was late afternoon. It had been a rough night filled with pain.

The previous day he had been discharged from the hospital late in afternoon to Sherlock’s care. The younger man tried hard to keep John comfortable. Later that evening Sarah had arrived with dinner. The three of them ate together, discussing John’s care. That night he had been in a lot of pain. Eventually towards dawn he had finally fallen asleep.

Moving a bit, his subtle shift woke the detective who smiled at him. “Good sleep?”

“I feel better… but I have to go pee.”

“Of course.” Sherlock helped him up from the bed and into the bathroom. Casually he leaned against the sink and waited for John to finish. The older man didn’t seem to mind his presence in the bathroom with him.

^.~

A few hours earlier…

Sarah entered the flat with the key she had been given. First she made her way to the kitchen to add a few groceries to the fridge. Then she looked in Sherlock’s room where John was supposed to be. John lay peacefully on the bed with his friend curled up around him. It took her a moment to realize that Sherlock’s eyes were open and he was gazing at John with something of affection.

A sound from the doorway caught Sherlock’s ear and he glanced across the room to the woman standing in the doorway. For a moment his eyes flickered with thought before he returned his attention to John, his head resting on the other man’s shoulder as his arm tightened.

Sarah sighed and waved her hand to get the detective’s attention again. She bade him to come and left the room.

Sherlock got up and followed her, pulling on his robe as he went and shutting the door so John would not waken. He leaned against the back of a chair, arms crossed across his chest.

“I just want to know if you two need anything for tonight when I come over after work. Do you have any requests for dinner?”

“Chinese.” Sherlock replied. “John likes Chinese.”

“I know…” She replied, biting her lip somewhat. “Sherlock…”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her.

“You love him, don’t you?” Sarah crossed her own arms in imitation of the tall brunette.

Sherlock blinked at her a few times, his eyes focusing on her.

“No man curls up with another man so casually unless he has a deep affection for the other. Does John know?”

Sherlock shook his head in silence.

“His heart is… fragile. He’s been through a lot. I suppose he’s told you…” Sarah watched the detective’s reactions. He had a poker face. “He likes you, Sherlock. And he runs to you. I understand that if I want a relationship with him then there has to be room for you. Since you’re not a hot blond with fake tits… I think I can handle that. Just… never break his heart.”

Sherlock let out his breath. “We’ll see you tonight.”

Sarah left, closing the door behind her and Sherlock returned to bed. Shutting his eyes, he burrowed his face against John’s neck, taking in his scent. The warm body clasped so tightly to his own that he ached. Finally he drifted off to sleep.

^.~

Sherlock helped John to the sink so he could wash his hands. “Sarah is bringing Chinese over tonight.”

John smiled at Sherlock’s reflection in the mirror above the sink. “Mm… sounds good.”

“I thought you’d like that.” His friend mused. Taking John’s arm over his shoulders he helped the doctor back to bed. “How is your leg?”

“It hurts. But with a little rest it should feel better soon. The stitches will come out next week.” John eased himself back down on the bed and rolled in to where he had been sleeping. “I’m a little hungry.”

Sherlock nodded and went to the kitchen to scrounge up some leftovers from the previous night.

^.~

John sat, propped up like a king on the couch with his leg resting on the ottoman. A tray of food sat before him and he was happy at the warm conversation between his two closest friends and himself.

“So then the guy gives me this look and I knew what he was about to do. It was like slow motion as he turned this ghastly shade of green and I could hear the telltale gurgle from his stomach!” Sarah was laughing at her story.

“Oh lord! He didn’t!” John chuckled imagining the next part.

“He did! All over the floor!” Sarah nearly cried, her face in her hand as she laughed about the horrible mess. “And the wall… and I swear there was even some on the ceiling!”

Even Sherlock was amused. A wicked smile lit his lips as his eyes sparkled with amusement. Only doctors and consulting detectives would find projectile vomiting an amusing dinner conversation.

The door to the flat opened and Mycroft stepped in.

Sherlock immediately sobered up on his amusement, looking to his brother. John and Sarah followed suit.

“I’m pleased to see you all here.” Mycroft proclaimed. Quickly he shut the door. “I am going to need full cooperation from all three of you… assuming this young lady is the Dr. Sawyer that John has been seeing.”

“I’m sorry… who are you?” Sarah asked, looking up at Mycroft.

“My brother Mycroft.” Sherlock replied quietly.

“There is no way to soften this… Sherlock, I need you to fake your own death.”

“What?” John cried out.

“You too, John. Both of you need to go into hiding for a while, possibly a month or two. I could use some help from Dr. Sawyer to make the paperwork look legal.”

“Why?” Sarah demanded.

“How?” John asked at the same time.

“As to how… I’m sorry John but a blood clot has worked itself free to your brain or your heart, I leave that to your doctor friend to chose. Sherlock will follow you into the hereafter by over dosing. The poor lad was never very mentally stable to begin with but the loss of his only friend will send him over the edge. As to why… It would be easier to find a certain Moriarty if he believes you both to be dead. You’ll both be safely tucked away in my villa in Italy.”

“You’re asking me to fake their deaths on paper?” Sarah asked.

“Only on paper. And obviously it isn’t real paperwork, it just needs to look like it’s real. Those that need to know would know the truth such as your Detective Inspector friend, Lestrade. Of course you, my dear, will know. Who won’t know is Moriarty whom we hope to catch once he thinks his rival is… pushing up daisies.”

“I can’t imagine daisies growing over me…” Sherlock muttered.

“A whole patch of them will be planted in your memory over your mound upon your death, dear brother.” Mycroft smiled wickedly.

“Fantastic,” Sherlock replied with sarcasm.

“And we’ll bury your doctor friend at your side.”

“You know… I think I have a place…” John began.

“Shush! It works with the narrative we are planting.” Mycroft frowned.

“When does this happen?” Sarah asked.

“Tonight.”