A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Bit of an angsty one for you all!!! TRIGGER WARNING!!! Abusive relationship ahead!!! Enjoy<3

"Victor, please don't be rude-"

"Seen, not heard Sherlock. Remember?" Sherlock snapped his jaw shut, glancing down at the coffee in front of him while his boyfriend continued insulting the young waitress.

The young woman had done nothing wrong, not really, but she had made the grave error of being nice to Sherlock. Victor was a petty, jealous man, and hated the thought of anyone trying to steal Sherlock's attentions.

When Victor finally shooed the poor girl away, there were tears on her cheeks and her shoulders were shaking with barely restrained sobs. Sherlock felt a flare of irritation and turned to glare at his lover.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" Victor's hand landed on Sherlock's thigh in a grip that was sure to leave bruises and he leaned in closer, making Sherlock whimper softly in pain. "V-Vic- s-she wasn't-"

"You know how I feel about others treating you like that. You are mine, and mine alone." Another hand gripped the back of Sherlock's neck tightly as he nodded timidly. Soft lips pressing against his own made his thoughts roll unpleasantly. "You know I love you, right?" Victor's soft voice sent a strange thrill through Sherlock, a weird mix of cold and hot that made him want to curl closer while running away.

He knew he probably should have run, but instead, he leaned into Victor's touch, blinking away tears and nodding.

"I love you too." Victor smiled happily and clapped a hand on Sherlock's cheek, just shy of too hard, and stood.

"Good, I'll be right back Darling." Sherlock waited until Victor was gone before calling one of the waiters over to his table.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, please offer my sincerest apologies to the young woman my partner accosted, and ensure that she gets this." He handed the young man a folded bill. "He won't tip her." The young man nodded grimly, glancing back to where Victor had disappeared before smirking down at Sherlock.

"Hey, I'm done in about an hour, if you wanted to go out with me." Sherlock felt his jaw drop open slightly.

"I-I have a boyfriend." Sherlock knew he sounded rude, but the young man was being an idiot.

"I know, I just thought you could use a husband." The young man winked and slid a napkin into Sherlock's front pocket before walking away.

Sherlock sat frozen in shock until he felt Victor's hand on his shoulder.

"But Victor-"

"I said no, Sherlock!" The slamming of the door made Sherlock flinch, but he didn't follow his lover.

This wasn't the first time Victor had bailed on their plans, and something told Sherlock that it wouldn't be the last either. His hands curled into fists by his side and he fought to keep the tears at bay.

He loved Victor, but it was things like this that made Sherlock think about leaving.

He reached for his front pocket, planning on writing another goodbye note, even though he knew it would just end up being tossed in the bin after Victor came home. Sherlock was incapable of saying no to Victor's sad eyes and seductive touch.

His fingers grabbed onto something that was definitely wasn't a pen, and froze.

The note, the one the attractive young waiter had slipped him, was still in his front pocket.

He nearly threw it away, Victor would kill him if he knew he had kept someone else's number. But a little voice in the back of his mind made him type the number into his phone.

Why would you give me your phone number after witnessing how horrendous my bf treated your colleague? – SH

Stupid way to start a conversation, but it would give Sherlock a sense of what the young man was like.

And you must be the hot guy that was with the Wicked Witch of the West – JW

I'm John, btw – JW

And I gave you my # because I think you're hot, and I know I can treat you better than that cock-sucker – JW

Sherlock blushed, staring down at his phone in awe. Not only had the strange young man, John, remembered him, but he thought he was attractive. Victor never said things like that, in fact, Victor made it very clear that he was only with Sherlock because of his mind.

So...You gonna date me yet? – JW

Bit pushy, aren't you? – SH

Sorry – JW

I swear, I'm more charming in person – JW

Sherlock laughed, he knew where this was going, and he didn't want to do anything to stop it.

Want to meet for coffee? – JW

No pressure or anything like that – JW

I just want to get to know you a bit – JW

Sherlock hesitated, Victor would probably beat him again if he found out.

But Victor had left.

Where and when? – SH

Three weeks had passed since Sherlock had first talked to John before Victor found out.

"Nothing happened! He's just a friend!"

"A friend that you didn't tell me about!" Sherlock's phone smashed into the wall next to his ear, making him whimper and cover his face. "You know the rules Sherlock! No secrets and no friends!" Victor grabbed the front of Sherlock's shirt and hauled him off the wall, shoving him back towards the door. "Get out of my sight!" Panic burned through Sherlock, making him crawl back towards Victor, tears falling from his eyes and his body trembling.

"N-No- Victor, please! I-I'll do anything! P-Please-" Victor forced his thumb into Sherlock's mouth, pressing down on his tongue and gripping his jaw painfully. He hauled Sherlock to his knees, making the younger man whimper in pain and fear. He would take whatever Victor did to him, he deserved everything.

"Like I would bed a common whore." Victor growled in his ear, shoving him away once more. Pain flowered in his head as he connected with the corner of the coffee table. "Get out, before you bleed all over my carpet."

"Sherlock?" The familiar, comforting voice cut through the haze of pain and panic that had been clouding Sherlock's mind since his fight with Victor. He turned, trying to find the source of the voice.

John, sweet, beautiful John, was standing a few feet away, his face contorted in shock and concern.

"Wh-where am I?" Sherlock mumbled, looking around for Victor. "I-I was- V-Victor! I-I have to find him-" Strong hands gripped him and held him still, and he forced himself to focus on the voice that was speaking.

"-a concussion. You need a doctor-"

"No!" Sherlock tried to wrench himself from John's arms, but nearly fell as his head spun painfully. "No doctors! That's his rule." Something passed over John's face and the shorter man moved under Sherlock's arm, supporting him.

"Right then, my place it is." Sherlock tried to protest, but the pain in his head and the chill taking over his bones won out.

Less than an hour later, Sherlock was sitting on the bed in John's tiny little bedsit, wrapped in a warm blanket with a plaster covering the gash on his forehead.

John hadn't asked what happened, though Sherlock could see that he knew, or at least had some idea.

John finished making them both tea, handing Sherlock a mug before pulling up a chair so he could sit facing the broken man.

"Did Victor do this?"

"I-It was my fault-"

"Did you kill his mother?" Sherlock hesitated at the strange question, shaking his head uncertainly. "Did you hit him first?" Another timid response. John slid off his chair, moving slow and cautiously as he knelt before Sherlock. "Then you didn't deserve it."

"B-But-"

"No, no buts Sherlock. He had no right or reason to do this to you." A sob bubbled its way out of Sherlock's chest and he felt John pull him close, wrapping him in his arms tightly and pressing soft kisses to his hair. "You deserve so much more than that Sherlock." John's voice was a broken whisper that sent Sherlock's mind reeling.

"But he loves me-"

"No, he doesn't. He loves that he can control you." John pulled back slightly, brushing a curl out of Sherlock's eyes and smiling softly.

Something clicked in the back of Sherlock's mind and he closed the distance between them, pressing an exploratory kiss to John's lips. Hand's gripped his hips and he let himself be tugged out of the chair, landing with a knee on either side of John's thighs.

John deepened the kiss, licking into Sherlock's mouth and pulling a soft sound from his chest.

He knew it was wrong, Victor was at home, waiting for him to return. He still loved Victor, but John was being so kind and understanding, and he had been very open about his attraction to Sherlock over the past few weeks.

What Victor didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Sherlock spent the night in John's arms, committing every second to his Mind Palace. He knew that if Victor were to take him back come morning, he would never see John again, Victor wouldn't allow it. So he made sure to remember every touch, every kiss, every sound that came from John's chest.

As they lay together later that night, Sherlock felt a sadness pouring off John and blinked away tears.

"You're going back to him, aren't you?" John whispered, pulling Sherlock tight against his chest.

"I love him." Sherlock whispered, the words leaving his mouth on reflex, despite the nausea that accompanied them. John pushed himself up on one elbow, hovering over Sherlock's body and pressing soft kisses over his face and neck.

"No you don't." John whispered, sucking a mark onto Sherlock's neck. "He's going to kill you, you have to see that." Sherlock shook his head, tears flowing freely.

"Victor would never-"

"Don't you dare say he wouldn't hurt you Sherlock. He gave you a concussion because you were texting me. What do you think he will say when he finds out you let me fuck you?"

"J-John-"

"Stay here, with me. I know there's not a lot of room, but we can look for a better place. I have a friend that works for New Scotland Yard, he will help get your stuff and handle Victor if need be."

Lying there, in the arms of the strange young man that had hit on him in the coffee shop, Sherlock finally felt safe and loved.

"Alright."