Chapter One

Stress

To say that that day had been one hell of a day would have been a flat and complete lie. John would dare anyone to try and tell him that because he would look at them and tell them it was ten times worse than that and that they had no clue what true hell even looked like.

He lived with Sherlock Holmes after all.

But to have both he and Sherlock ripped out of their bed by one DI Lestrade who had stomped into their flat and dragged them down to Scotland Yard to be debriefed and have their statements written down from an investigation.

An investigation that had been solved by Sherlock himself.

Normally they didn't have to do all of this at the Yard but for some reason the DI was in a foul mood and wouldn't allow them to do so. Because of that he had dragged them out of their home at five in the goddamn morning.

Not only that but John had suffered severe nightmares that other night and had to stay up a good portion of the night between waking and then falling asleep to his nightmares once more. Even with Sherlock playing his violin, his nightmares had not abated for one reason or another the night before.

And to add onto that annoyance, it was raining and freezing cold when he woke up to Lestrade yelling for the two of them to get up.

Unfortunately Sherlock had just gotten up and left with the DI, forcing John to follow behind as well.

In a foul mood.

So he was sure that his attitude would be forgiven as soon as Sergeant Donovan opened her mouth.

"The Freak is back." She sneered at the Consulting Detective as if he was a bug on the bottom of her new and expensive high heeled shoes. "What does he want now?"

John clenched his jaw as he shoved his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking from how tightly clenched he had them.

"To fill out their statements on the last case and capture of the suspect." Lestrade grouched out as he ushered the two towards his office. Sherlock had placed himself behind John so that he would be the last to leave the room. Normally the man was right at the front of the line but this time he was staying behind John.

Which irritated the veteran even more for reasons he could not fathom.

"Good, get the freak away from us normal hard working cops." Donovan spat at three of them.

That's it. He'd had enough.

He turned on his heel and marched over to Donavan, avoiding Sherlock's reaching grasp to his arm as he did so. "You want to say that again?" John growled as he got into the woman's face forcefully.

"Say what again?" She questioned with a frown and a flickered glance behind him, most likely to Lestrade to see what he wanted her to do.

"That Sherlock Holmes, the man that Scotland Yard calls on to do their damn jobs for them, is a freak that should go and disappear." John snarled as he began to back the woman backwards just by walking forwards. They didn't come to a stop until her back was to a wall. "That he's a freak that shows up the half assed officers here all of the time because you can't do your jobs without being led by the damn nose."

The entire building fell silent as John's face began to turn a dark red in rage and Donovan's own face began to pale incredibly. "We….we can….can do this without the damned freak." She spat as she got herself under control and regained her ability to fight back. Despite everything, she would not be scared of an invalided soldier that followed the freak around like a puppy.

"Really, because Lestrade calling him up at all hours of the damn day says otherwise!" John spat right back at the woman. "In fact! I bet you couldn't go a damned week without his help to solve a murder! That's how bloody brilliant he is! And how utterly incompetent you are!" He shouted as he took a step back to avoid the smell of Donavan's breath. He knew that smell. "That and he doesn't need to run away and hide in a bloody broom closet to get his coworker off." He snarked.

Donovan's face went pale once more as her eyes flickered to where Anderson stood near her desk, his face turning a bright red.

"John." Sherlock called as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"No." John whirled to look at the consulting detective and pointed his finger at the man with a glare. "If they have to treat you like a piece of trash every time you come in to assist them with a murder that they asked you to help with, than they will not get you! I will move you to a place that will appreciate what you bring than to continue to stay where you are treated like shit and an unwanted toy." He was practically yelling at this point as his temper finally frayed into an all-out explosion.

"I do not car-" Sherlock started to say.

"I do care!" John cut off. "You are not a dog that can be abused into doing what they want it to do and then expect to hunt for them! You are not a weapon that can be thrown into a closet and forgotten about until it's useful again!" He exclaimed in anger. "You, despite everything you or anyone else say, are still a human goddamn being! You aren't god or a machine! You deserve to be treated with respect like any normal human being and more so because your a sight better than that useless lump of adultering piece of shit!" John pointed behind him at Donovan.

Sherlock stared at John with his normal calm gaze for a long moment before turning around to look at an amused looking Lestrade. "We will be leaving. You can come to 221B Baker Street later for our statements." He stated before turning back to John and guiding him out of Scotland Yard by the arm.

It was only when they were in a taxi on their way back to their flat that Sherlock spoke.

"I do not care what they think of me." He stated as he looked out the window at the landscape of the busy London Streets.

"You don't but that doesn't mean they can say what they say." John snapped as he looked at his friend. His best and greatest friend. Someone that had given him his life back.

"You are sleep deprived."

"No, I'm pissed off."

"Because you did not sleep."

"Screw fucking sleep! You seem to survive just fine without it."

"Because I do not need sleep to function properly. That is not what we are talking about at the moment."

John growled as he threw his hands up in the air. "I don't care Sherlock! Besides, what I said was true! You help them out when they need it and they all treat you like crap." He growled as he remembered all the insults and the degrading insinuations they had made about the other man.

"It does not matter John." Sherlock said as he turned to look at him.

"Why's that?"

"Because I have you to tell me otherwise."

John blinked at the man before a large smile over took his face and his entire body relaxed.

He felt warm and happy for the first time in what seemed ever.

He doesn't remember anything after that but waking up on the couch while Sherlock played his violin.

221B Baker Street

A.N. Okay so this is basically my attempt at oneshots for Sherlock series. I thought this would be fun. Just whatever comes to mind and whatever I feel like writing about. So this will be marked as complete for the foreseeable future. Cause I never know when I'll add on to it or if I will. Most likely will though since I have several shots I want to write.

Some will seem to be connected and others will be connected. I'll try and remember to write a notice if chapters are connected or not.

So review and tell me what you think about this first chapter. I want to know what you think and maybe you guys can give me some ideas for oneshots as well. I would love to write things with different ideas. So yeah, give me ideas to go off of though you might not get what you think you are.

I would like everyone to think about some of the authors on Fanfiction that died recently or a while ago. Some of them died in tragic accidents or illnesses and have left stories unfinished or had others finish them for them in memory. I would like everyone reading this to lower their heads, clasp their hands together and pray for those who have been lost. Allow there to be a moment of silence for wherever you, the reader, are and remember not just the writers here on this site but those who have been lost in your life or in tragic events.

Please remember that life is short and that you should love those in your life while you can and show your appreciation for water comes into your life.

Again, thanks to those who have lost their lives for spreading inspiration through their works.