Observers- BBC Sherlock x Reader Chpt. 70

John refused to leave you alone for very long, not wanting you to wake up someplace unfamiliar alone, and ended up sorting through emails on his laptop in his room while you slept. He looked up when you groaned and your hand came up to rub at your forehead as you grumbled, “Merde… What- Where am I?”

“You’re in my bed,” John offered and you sighed, sitting up, “I’m sorry, Johnny. I didn’t mean to fall asleep up here. I’ll go back downstairs.”

You moved to leave, unable to stop the sharp gasp and cringe as pain rippled through your body, and John got up to ease you back down, “It’s alright, Squeak… I was actually wondering if you would stay up here with me tonight.”

“Why?” you asked warily, thinking it might be a ploy to get you to take his bed while he slept on the couch, and John wrapped his hand around yours, “You’ll be more comfortable here and then if you need anything you can just wake me.”

You blinked a couple of times and then hummed worriedly “Are you alright, John? Usually, I’m the one asking if I can sleep with you.”

He let out a heavy sigh and you squeezed his hand as he admitted, “I thought I was going to lose you, (F/n). I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid in my life and you know all the things I’ve been through. I need to know that you’re ok… that you’re safe.”

You rubbed his hand between yours, “Alright, Johnny. I’ll stay.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple with a mumbled thank you and then you moved to get up again, wincing slightly, “I need to take a shower.”

“I’ll have to rebandage your arm,” he pointed out, helping you up, and you pursed your lips, “Is that alright? I just need to be clean.”

John carefully led you down the stairs, “Of course it’s alright, Squeak… Just be gentle washing your hair and try not to stress your shoulder. I’ll bring you a set of my night clothes.”

“Thanks, Johnny,” you murmured and slipped into the bathroom shutting the door behind you. After a quick shower, in which you found out exactly how hard it is to wash your hair without being able to raise your arm up over your head and some confusion as to what was body wash and what was shampoo, you felt a lot better aside from the pain that was slowly beginning to creep up on you again as the pain meds wore off. You managed to get dressed on your own, no small feat, and then carefully shuffled back out to the living room, your hair falling around your shoulders in a tangled mess.

“Stay there, Squeak. I’m coming,” John ordered when you appeared in the doorway, so you waited patiently for him to come wrap an arm around your waist and guide you to a chair at the table. Once you were sitting, he gently pushed back the sleeve of the shirt he’d lent you and frowned when you hissed softly from his just brushing your skin, looking over at Sherlock, “Sherlock- I think it’s time for another round of pain medication.”

The consulting detective opened his eyes to look you over and then slid off the couch to get you some water and another set of pills as John took your arm in his hands and carefully unwound the bandage. Neither John nor Sherlock had seen your arm injury since it had been gushing blood and when John finally pulled the last of the gauze away he let out a soft growl as his heart felt like it was being torn in two.

“Is it that bad?” you whispered, tucking your chin to your chest and scrunching your eyes closed. John dropped one hand to squeeze your knee, “It’s fine. I just didn’t realize-“

“That he’d carved his initials into me? Yeah… he said he wanted to label me as his to keep me from being unfaithful again,” you interrupted, your voice low and a little shaky.

Sherlock walked back in just then and nearly dropped the glass of water, working hard to keep his composure as he caught sight of the ‘NF’ branding your skin. Every time he thought he couldn’t possibly hate that man any more than he already did something new proved that he could. John recovered quickly, moving to clean it and then wrap it with a new bandage, and Sherlock clenched his jaw but gave you the pills so you could pop them in your mouth before placing the glass of water in your free hand. You swallowed them and he took it back from you as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “Good.”

John had never seen you take pills so willingly and you hadn’t even made a face, meaning you were probably lost in thought. He blinked a couple of times to try and comprehend not only that but that Sherlock had just oh so casually kissed you before shaking his head and helping you up, “Time for bed, Squeak. Let’s get you upstairs before those kick in.”

You just nodded and let him escort you up the stairs to his room and tuck you into his bed again before excusing himself to get ready for the night. You snuggled into the pillow and pulled the blankets up so you could bury your nose in them, inhaling your brother’s scent deeply. By the time he got back, you were feeling drugged and needy again, reaching out for him as you grumbled, “I need snuggles.”

He chuckled and slid into bed with you, letting you tuck yourself tightly to his side as you whimpered, “I was so afraid of losing you, Johnny. He said he would… he said…”

You couldn’t finish your thought and just buried your nose into his side with a shaky sigh as he stroked your hair, “I wouldn’t leave you like that, (F/n).”

He was surprised when you pulled back and tilted your face up towards him, “I could just see it, John… so vividly. It was just like that case. He was going to kill you or you were going to kill him and go to prison- either way I was going to lose you and it was going to be my fault.”

“What case was that, Squeak?” John huffed softly, mentally cursing your fantastic imagination for putting you through that, and you snuggled into him again as you responded sleepily, “The murder Sherly and I worked while you were gone.”

John was quiet for a moment as he thought that over, putting some things together in his head, and then decided to take advantage of your willingness to share in this state, “Was that when you had a panic attack?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded into his chest and then yawned, “Just don’t tell, John. He’ll worry.”

Raising an eyebrow at your obviously drug-addled mind, he hugged you a little closer and mentally noted to have a ‘talk’ with Sherlock about that later as he hummed, “Go to sleep, (F/n).”

Your fingers gripped at his shirt tightly as you whispered in an extremely distressed voice, “Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he hushed you, “I won’t, (F/n). I’ll be right here.”

You let out a relieved sigh and fell asleep clinging to him while John sorted through his thoughts. He was tremendously glad he’d asked you to stay with him, as it seemed you needed to be near him just as much he needed to be near you. He hadn’t realized you were so afraid of losing him in that way- though it explained why you hadn’t come to him and why you’d been so panicked when he and Sherlock had shown up, not to mention the episode in the hospital. John understood now why you didn’t like him to worry, knowing you were stressing and fretting over his wellbeing even when you were hurt and in trouble made him feel even guiltier. He sighed and nuzzled his nose into your hair, both of you were safe now and he was going to have to remind you of that every chance he got.