A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Here is another chapter!!! Fair warning....this one talks about sexual abuse and physical violence. Enjoy<3

John struggled to keep up with Sherlock, his shorter legs putting him several paces behind his friend. He decided to keep his distance, giving Sherlock the space he needed to brood. It was a long walk back to Sherlock's flat, and John was not properly dressed for it. Halfway there, John's shoulder started to ache in the cold. He sped up and grabbed Sherlock's elbow, forcing the taller man to stop.

"Sherlock!"

"What John?" The younger man snapped, his eyes wide and wet and the tip of his nose red in the icy air. He looked like a little boy and John felt his heart break for him.

"Stop. Let's get a cab Love. I'm freezing and my shoulder is seizing."

"You get a cab. I'm going to walk."

"No. As your doctor and your, whatever the fuck I am to you, I can't let you just wander the streets this late at night-"

"I'm not a fucking child John!"

"No, but you are upset and hurt, and I care too damned much about you to leave you out here!"

"Maybe you shouldn't care then!" John froze at those words, feeling the anger and fear pouring off Sherlock's trembling frame. "Why do you care oh Captain? Not really your area, is it? No, you're more of a love them and leave them kind of guy, aren't you? Take what you want and leave them basking in the afterglow right?" John straightened, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall at the harsh words.

"D-Don't-"

"What's wrong John? Not used to people standing up to you? I'll bet no one's done that since you stood up to your abusive father. How old were you the last time he touched you? Fifteen? Sixteen?" John was crying now, tears falling freely as he stood still, ever the soldier, taking the abuse like he used to.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because this is what I do John!" Sherlock shouted, gripping at his curls and pulling. John could see the panic in the younger man's eyes and suddenly understood. "I say things and I hurt people and I don't give a fuck about who I hurt!" Sherlock's chest started heaving as he appeared to forget how to breathe. His long legs gave out and John caught him before he could hit the ground, gently lowering him onto his knees in the middle of the cold street.

"Jesus Sherlock." He whispered as he held the panicking man close, rocking him gently in his arms. "Who did this to you?"

"No one John. This is just me." Sherlock's voice was broken, the force of the tremors wracking his body causing his voice to shake.

"No. I don't believe that." John leaned back, taking Sherlock's face in his hands and looking into the pale eyes he loved so much. "I've seen this before. Whoever did this to you, whoever told you these things, they're wrong Love. They're so incredibly wrong. I've seen you, the real you, and I know that this is not who you are." He pulled Sherlock's face to his and kissed him, softly and lovingly, trying to convey everything he was feeling. Sherlock didn't respond at first, merely letting John kiss him.

"J-John-" There was a softness to the once broken voice now and John knew he had his lover back. He smiled at the pale man, kissing him softly again. This time, Sherlock responded, sighing as John gently licked into his mouth. "I-I'm so sorry John." He whispered against the ex-soldier's lips, mumbling through the barely-there kisses.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Love. Now, can we please get a cab? I can't feel my fingers." Sherlock chuckled softly, even the tiny smile lighting up his eyes. "There's that smile I love seeing." John kissed him softly once more before pulling the taller man to his feet and stepping to the curb to hail a cab.

"His name was James." Sherlock finally spoke, his voice no louder than a deep murmur as John massaged his chest and shoulders. Once they had arrived back at Sherlock's flat, John coaxed the freezing man into the bath. Sherlock leaned himself back against John's chest, relaxing into the feeling of John's fingers massaging his shoulders and chest.

"Who's name Love?"

"The man my father spoke of." John made an affirmative sound, his curiosity piquing. He didn't push though, letting Sherlock speak at his leisure. "You may have heard of him, he is in the industry. James Moriarty." John couldn't help tensing at the name.

"You actually dated Moriarty?" John had seen Moriarty's videos before, he had even been slotted with him once, but bailed on the filming. Moriarty was known for doing hardcore videos, the kind that you didn't walk away from filming with out some heavy-duty bruises at the very least.

"Yes. We were slotted to film together and there was a connection. Or, he said there was at least. It was my first year filming so I took any job I could get." Sherlock went quite for a long while, the only sounds filling the bathroom were water splashing and John pressing soft kisses to Sherlock's neck and shoulders.

"I was young, twenty-one, and still fairly naïve, so it wasn't hard for him to convince me that he loved me." John fought back a wave of anger at the thought of someone mistreating Sherlock. "He was strong, dominant, and dangerous and I fell hard."

"We did five videos together, Moriarty's fans really enjoyed watching him tear me apart. The videos started off boring enough, just some simple BDSM and rough play. Nothing I hadn't done before." John reached back and grabbed Sherlock's expensive massage oil, needing to distract himself from what he knew was coming. "It took us almost six months to film all the videos, and by the end of it, I was so desperate for it to stop I tried to kill myself."

"He would torture me at work, then take me home and have his way with me there. No one ever commented on the bruises because that's what Moriarty does. He takes what he wants and leaves you broken in his wake." John had stopped fighting the tears, letting them fall over Sherlock's shoulders as he listened to his lover's painful story. "My mind would tell me every nasty thing he had planned for me when he would look at me. I wanted it to stop, so I OD'd on heroin, or tried to at least."

"Moriarty figured it out and everything changed. He helped me through my recovery, apologizing every day and not raising a finger against me. I thought it was over. I thought he truly loved me."

"A-And then, when he was confident I was fully recovered, he tried to kill me." John sobbed, muffling his cries against the moist skin of Sherlock's shoulder. He could hear the tears in Sherlock's own voice and clung desperately to the younger man, trying to comfort him, to let him know that he was alright.

"He bound and gagged me, same as always, but this time he pulled out a blade and started stabbing me. The only reason I survived was because he did it while we were filming. Got about six stabs in before the crew realized what was happening." John let his fingers trail along Sherlock's chest tracing the faint scars he had noticed during their first time together.

"Sherlock?" John's voice was horse from tears and disuse.

"Hmm?"

"I love you." John felt Sherlock tense in his arms and he pressed more soft kisses to the younger man's shoulders and neck.

"J-John I-"

"I don't care if you aren't ready to say it back, I-I just want you- need you to know." Sherlock sat up turning around and straddling John's legs and kissing him deeply. "God, I'm so sorry Sherlock. No one deserves that. Fuck, I want to kill the son of a bitch!" Sherlock smiled through his tears and cupped John's face, placing soft kisses over his lips and cheeks.

"You didn't know me back then John. I wasn't a good person-"

"No. It doesn't matter Love. No one deserves to be treated like that." John leaned up, catching Sherlock's lips in a kiss that felt like a slow burning fire. "I love you Sherlock." There were a few moments of silence from the brilliant man above him, but John didn't feel anything but more love for Sherlock.

"I-I- I-"

"Don't. Unless you mean it. I don't want you to feel obligated to love me. You owe me nothing Sherlock, understand? I don't want to take anything from you that isn't offered wholeheartedly." Sherlock kissed him again, gently licking into John's mouth and sucking on his bottom lip. John whimpered softly and ran his fingers along Sherlock's spine, pulling a shiver from his pale friend.

"Thank you, John."