John was in the kitchen making tea when he heard quick footsteps on the stairs and the flat's door open and close with a slam.

"Sherlock?" John asked in alarm as the entire flat shook with the force of the door slam. When John didn't receive an answer, he set the kettle back down on the stove and walked cautiously towards the living room where he heard the couch creek. One could never be too cautious when living with the likes of Sherlock Holmes.

When John reached the doorway and peered around the corner he saw nothing unusual at first glance. Sherlock had swept into the room with his usual level of drama and plopped onto the couch, where he sat in one corner, curled up with his knees to his chest and with his coat and shoes still on.

"Oh, Sherlock, I told you to stop wearing your shoes on the furniture, it always gets it all muddied-" John stopped as he was crossing the room to take Sherlock's shoes off. Something was wrong. Sherlock was shaking.

"Sher- Sherlock, what's wrong, what happened?" John stood frozen in the middle of the room as if he had found himself approaching a wounded tiger rather than his flatmate. He couldn't tell if Sherlock was shaking from fear, cold, pain, anger, or something else. He was unsure of what to do, afraid to make the wrong move and further upset Sherlock. John was quickly given an answer when Sherlock bowed his face into his hands, still shaking terribly.

John was sitting next to Sherlock almost immediately, a hand on his shoulder. "Sherlock, please tell me what's wrong." With no reaction and still no answer, John chanced wrapping both arms around Sherlock and found his own body shaking with the strength of Sherlock's tremors.

At first Sherlock remained stiff and upright, with his knees still tucked under his forehead, and John thought he'd simply have to leave Sherlock to his misery till he was ready to talk.

"You're the only one who's never called me a freak." John was startled by the muffled, choked words, but was even more shocked when Sherlock suddenly collapsed, shaking with silent sobs, into John's chest.

"Oh, Sherlock," John said sadly as he felt tears start to soak through his jumper. He tightened his grip around his flatmate and rested his chin on top of the curly hair, gently rubbing Sherlock's back as he continued to sob.