#hurt!john

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Dean & John) Additional Tags: Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Pre-Canon, Whump, Drabble Wordcount: 100 Podfic Length: 00:01:57 Summary:

What he can see: the floor, glass, bloody hands.

Notes:

For day 5's prompt: debris

Wow, you guys really like hurt/comfort, don't you? Me, too. Thank you for all the love over the past 6+ years!

Now finished! 

Part two of the Grimes Graves series. Part one here.

In part one, John and Sherlock must work together to escape an opponent unlike any they’ve faced before, but they won’t escape unscathed. 

In The Only Hope for Me, the boys deal with the aftermath of the Graves while trying to apprehend the culprit. 

"What did you do to him?" Sherlock held the phone at arm’s length and shouted at it, using every ounce of self-control he had to keep himself from dropping it on the floor and grinding it beneath his heel, just so he wouldn’t have to hear Moriarty’s voice anymore.

"Nothing permanent, don't you worry. It's just much easier to kidnap people when they're unconscious, you know." 

"How—how...?" His eyes flicked to Mycroft, who had risen from the sofa and was violently whispering into his own phone.

"It was easy! He thought you sent a cab. Cursed you out a bit, then got right in. I didn't even have to get the ramp out of the boot for him. Which is good, because he might have recognised me then!" 

"Let him go right now, I swear—" 

"I can't let him go. I told you—weren’t you listening? He's passed out in the back of the cab. Funny how fast that gas works. I just closed the window between us, turned the little valve, and boom—he was out before he even knew what was happening." 

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Sherlock was teaching himself how to cook scrambled eggs when the door to the suite swung open and Anderson and Tay walked in.

"Sherlock! What the hell?" Tay said, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it toward the living room. "Why weren't you at practice?"

Anderson dropped his backpack onto the floor and sniffed. "And why are you in our dorm making eggs?"

"Mm, I love eggs!" Tay announced.

"Keep your voice down," Sherlock hissed, and raised his spatula up as a warning toward Tay. He was pleased to see him back off, despite the six-inch height advantage he had. "These are for John."

"John? He's here? Is it his spring break or something? Do they get spring break in med school? I really love eggs."

"No." Sherlock turned back to the pan and poked at the liquidy eggs, wondering how long this was supposed to take. "He's had his wisdom teeth out this morning so I brought him back here to take care of him." A year and a half ago he never would have imagined saying such a sentence, but now taking care of John when he was in pain seemed as natural as breathing or dribbling a basketball.

Read the rest on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364895