Blood Fury - Part 12

John POV

Sherlock arrived home late. I glanced at my watch. It was almost midnight. I had been up watching a movie on the telly. I smiled when Sherlock walked into the room.
"Hey, you're home late," I said, "What have you been doing?"
"Talking to Mycroft. Seeing if he has any leads, which he does not," Sherlock replied, "And also trying to make sense of this madness."
"Hmm. You don't look well. Get some sleep," I said. Sherlock shook his head. I frowned. "Sherlock, you need sleep."
"I'm fine John. I know my limits," Sherlock said. I stood up and walked over to him.
"Sherlock, get some sleep. Doctor's orders," I replied. I grabbed his hands and urged him to follow. He was reluctant.
"John. Leave me be. I am fine," Sherlock frowned.
"No you're not. You need your rest to help you with the case," I insisted.
"No John. Let me go!" Sherlock pulled his hands free from mine. I grabbed his elbow before he could get away.
"Sherlock! Listen to me! You are going to go up there and sleep!" I yelled.
"John, for the last time, I'm fine!" Sherlock replied, yanking his elbow free. He turned and was about to walk away out the front door when I leapt out and grabbed his coat and pulled him back.
"Sherlock! Sleep!" I yelled. I was furious. The man needed sleep, it was obvious. He looked paler than usual. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had a tired look to him. I had been letting it slide for the last few days or so, but I had it.
"John, let me go," Sherlock said. There was so much power in those words. It scared me. I had never seen Sherlock so…angry. There was a dominant force raging inside him. I swallowed and held my ground.
"No," I replied. I was nowhere near as strong as Sherlock, but got my point across. I gasped when Sherlock spun me around and pressed me hard against the wall.
"Say that again," he growled. I couldn't form any words. I was scared shitless. I was frozen under Sherlock's unbelievably strong grasp. Fire burned in his eyes. I saw something I didn't want to see in him. It was like it wasn't him, like he was some monster, some fiery hellish creature. I hated it. I had seen many horrible and terrifying things in my life, but none as close to what was in front of my eyes.
"Sh-sh-Sherlock," I stammered. Something clicked in Sherlock, like he had just realised what he was doing. He let go of me and took a few steps back. He looked terrified.
"No, oh God no," he muttered.
"Sherlock, what is it?" I asked, taking a step towards him.
"John no! Just, just stay away from me!" Sherlock cried out. He bolted for the front door and ran out into London. I closed the door behind him. I made it into my bedroom and closed the door before I collapsed.