Chapter Text
♪1 - Early October
John is careful. He likes to prepare everything beforehand. On the side of his bed now there are his favorite craft knife, a tissue pack, antiseptic wipes and cream, dressing pads and tape. He looks at them and smiles. He likes all of his tools neatly arranged.
John looks at his wrist, on which parallel cuts run across. The oldest ones have healed. They leave behind fine lines of light pink colors. Towards his elbow the cuts turn pink, deep pink and dry dark red. John has to admit that those fading colors look great.
He needs new cuts though. He wants beads of warm red blood seeping out from his skin. He presses the tip of the blade onto his skin and slices across, again and again. Thin lines of blood appear, and then they join together as more blood leaks out. The pain registers in his head but he doesn’t mind it. He needs the pain after all.
A trail of blood is about to drip down, John gets a tissue and clean it. His blood stains the tissue just right. What a lovely combination of color! – He thinks to himself. Red smears on white. He presses the tissue harder on his cuts. When he lets go, the tissue is soaking red. Beautiful.
Sherlock dashes in as John’s about to cut again, which makes John wince until his eye-brows almost touch.
“For God’s sake, Sherlock! Knock the fucking door!” – John shouts.
“Sorry for interrupting.”
Sherlock is holding his left arm out. Blood drips from angry gashes down on the carpet.
“What now ?” – John asks – “You suddenly feel the need to ruin my carpet ?”
“Nope.” – Sherlock says calmly – “Just realize I run out of bandages. Can I borrow some ?”
“Why didn’t you check beforehand you idiot ?” - John shakes his head – “Second drawer top down.”
Sherlock kneels down on the floor and starts throwing things out of John’s drawer.
“How I hate disorganized people.” – John whispers to himself.
“You said anything ?” – Sherlock looks up.
“Nope. Find your bandages and get out of my room.”
“There it is.” – Sherlock finds what he needs – “Thanks” – He smiles to John.
“Great. Now piss off.”
Sherlock stands up and dashes out of the room, still holding his left arm out. John starts thinking about how he’s gonna clean those bloodstain on the carpet. He thinks there is some stain remover in the kitchen. Then he thinks of where he put his first-aid kit, because judging from the look of it, Sherlock’s cuts probably need stitches.
The blood from John’s cuts has dried. He sighs, then starts cleaning things up. That’s it for tonight. That’s it for tonight then.
♪1 End.