Just Another Parentlock: Sherlock

I'm deathly in love with the show Sherlock. So most of the fanfics I've seen on this site are about 1D. If you don't know much about the show well... yeah, go watch it. xD anyways, sorry for the people who do know the show, i spelled it like Ms. Hudson and not Mrs. Hudson. but im too lazy to change it. ANYWAYS! This is a fanfic including some fluffy Johnlock and Parentlock later on. Plus I haven't proof read and its still a rough draft... So yeah, go wild.

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3. The Voice

Sherlock let the hot water pour over him as he leaned against the tiled wall. He needed time to clear his head- time that John wouldn’t give him. All the events leading up to this point in his life had shaped the future. He expected John to leave the first night that they had moved in but he stayed for months. Each case they solved together made them closer yet the more comfortable John got with Sherlock the more that Sherlock tried to push him away.

                “I don’t have friends…” he muttered with his eyes closed and the water cascading down onto his face.

                “John was never my friend. He was my flat mate.” He reassured himself but a nagging voice in the back of his mind began to nip at his words. Flat mate? Is that really how you see me? Just a man you shared a flat with? The voice sounded way too much like John.

                “I told you that I don’t have friends.” Sherlock pulled his face out from the water and the voice scoffed. So all those times I saved your life meant nothing? The dinners I slaved over when we were tight on money, the gifts I got you for Christmas and your birthday, the times when I had to lie to keep you safe but it got me in trouble… those were just acts of kindness from one stranger to another? It spat and he could hear the voice crying. Sherlock had never heard John cry before and he never wanted to. The thought of having him hurt made his heart ache. But this time he really had hurt John.

                “No. I won’t bring myself to say another word to you. Get out of my head.” He hissed and turned the faucet off. He departed from the shower, drying off and wrapping a towel around his wet hair. He stared at himself in the fogged mirror before turning away, feeling no shame or regret. Without even changing in to a set of clothes he dropped to his bed and closed his eyes.

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