Save Yourself
Papercuts and Love
The next day, John and I sat in my near-empty flat. sorting through the many old pictures and newspaper clippings I had. Neither of us were very sure if they were going to be helpful in any way for the 'case' (strange, referring to your life as a case), but Sherlock had practically ordered us to exit his flat and plant ourselves firmly in mine for a few hours.
"I think he just wanted us out of his hair." I mumbled as I gave myself a third papercut.
"Honestly, I think he grew tired of us cracking jokes about the organs in the refrigerator."
"Well, honestly, John, who in the hell keeps intestines next to their food?!" I joked again, then lowered my voice, "Unless, of course... they're also eating the intestines."
"I assure you, I do not eat anything that comes from there. I've had my share of disgusting mishaps from that place more than once, Jo-... Wait, what should I call you?"
"Jo is fine, John."
"But it's not your name."
I stared at the small man who sat on the floor behind me. John was kind and caring, almost the polar opposite of Sherlock, in ways. But in other ways, they were exactly alike. I could tell John had a taste for solving cases as much as Sherlock did, but for different reasons.
"Haven't you ever wanted to be someone else, John? Wake up in another bed with another life?"
My words seem to register with him a bit too well.
"All. The. Time."
"Keeping this name is a way of doing that, even if Derek has already found me. I know it's stupid and silly, but..."
"It's not silly at all." John placed his hand on mine and squeezed reassurance into it. It was nice to have a friend, a real friend who actually knew everything I'd been hiding from the world.
"Thank you."
My eyes flitted over pictures I'd long since forgotten about. Derek and I on the beach, Abby in an Elmo onesie. Things could have been so different, they could have been so different. Or, perhaps, they couldn't. Deep down, underneath all the hope, I knew this is the person Derek was always meant to be; I just didn't know why he chose me.
"Can I ask you something?" John asked, jumping me from my thoughts.
"Well, you already know my deepest secrets..."
"Do you like Sherlock?"
My face flushed bright red, "What?!"
"Do.. you.. liiiiike him?"
"I don't think anyone could possibly like Sherlock," I answered, before sighing, "But I am attracted to him, yes
"I think he just wanted us out of his hair." I mumbled as I gave myself a third papercut.
"Honestly, I think he grew tired of us cracking jokes about the organs in the refrigerator."
"Well, honestly, John, who in the hell keeps intestines next to their food?!" I joked again, then lowered my voice, "Unless, of course... they're also eating the intestines."
"I assure you, I do not eat anything that comes from there. I've had my share of disgusting mishaps from that place more than once, Jo-... Wait, what should I call you?"
"Jo is fine, John."
"But it's not your name."
I stared at the small man who sat on the floor behind me. John was kind and caring, almost the polar opposite of Sherlock, in ways. But in other ways, they were exactly alike. I could tell John had a taste for solving cases as much as Sherlock did, but for different reasons.
"Haven't you ever wanted to be someone else, John? Wake up in another bed with another life?"
My words seem to register with him a bit too well.
"All. The. Time."
"Keeping this name is a way of doing that, even if Derek has already found me. I know it's stupid and silly, but..."
"It's not silly at all." John placed his hand on mine and squeezed reassurance into it. It was nice to have a friend, a real friend who actually knew everything I'd been hiding from the world.
"Thank you."
My eyes flitted over pictures I'd long since forgotten about. Derek and I on the beach, Abby in an Elmo onesie. Things could have been so different, they could have been so different. Or, perhaps, they couldn't. Deep down, underneath all the hope, I knew this is the person Derek was always meant to be; I just didn't know why he chose me.
"Can I ask you something?" John asked, jumping me from my thoughts.
"Well, you already know my deepest secrets..."
"Do you like Sherlock?"
My face flushed bright red, "What?!"
"Do.. you.. liiiiike him?"
"I don't think anyone could possibly like Sherlock," I answered, before sighing, "But I am attracted to him, yes