Two stories so soon? I'm surprised with myself. Post Reichenbach.
Sherlock returns after taking down Moriarty's web only to find John has moved on. Unrequited love can be a painful thing as Sherlock finds out.
I do not own any characters mentioned. Was just a little thing I came up with earlier today. First time writing for Sherlock. Anyways cheers!
I had always thought that the common populations saying heartbreak caused physical pain were all idiots. How could something that was merely a chemical reaction hurt oneself physically?
Oh another addition to the few things I have gotten wrong over the years. This pain surely proved it to be true.
John, my John was standing in a tuxedo at the altar. To be getting married in a church. How like you John. A dreadfully plain woman stood next to him. She was wearing a large wedding dress. She had dull brown hair that currently was hidden under a long veil. I admitted to myself she could be considered attractive. The air of her felt dull though.
I was sitting in the far back row. John's side of course. I had heard news that he had met someone but I never thought he would be getting married. This wasn't what I expected to find on my return. A punch or two perhaps, yelling was of course expected. I was prepared for crying even. Everything but this. Again John you have managed to surprise me.
I want to stand and shout. "I am here John!" I quelled that urge as quickly as it rose up.
My eyes were entranced by him. His suit fit him well. It was the traditional black and seemingly like every single suit out there. It looked so good on John though. I wasn't sure exactly why. His face seemed to have more lines than the last time I saw him. To my dismay he had the cane by his side again. If I was more honest that I would say it was more than dismay. It was…devastation. It took all my self control to stop myself from going to him. But how I wished I could.
It seemed everyone present was in tears. I felt my stomach twist painfully as John took the woman's hand. He smiled at her so brightly, so happily. It had been a smile he had shown me once or twice before. I note to myself.
I blink rapidly. Any words that are spoken are drowned out by my reeling mind. The Priests lips move but no words penetrate my thoughts. Not until he says I do.
That is all I can take. I stand abruptly and take my leave. My breathing is like I had just ran blocks. It is harsh sounding to my own ears. It's a ridiculous notion though. I was sitting the whole time. It's illogical, just like the pain I'm feeling. It's all nonsense.
I ignore the looks I feel burning into my back as I retreat. I'm not running away. I attempt to convince myself. I almost believe it.
I had gone to watch him once or twice in the past week since his return from wherever they disappeared together. When married the couple would go on honeymoons. I remind myself. I could probably deduce where they had gone it if it didn't hurt to look at him. He radiated joy.
It was all so painfully normal. John was anything but normal. He would go shopping or walk around with her. They laughed with another. Unaware of their shadow who trailed after them.
Some nights I would sit back into my cheap flat and stare at my phone. Sometimes I would type out a message. 'I'm alive.' For example. 'Do you like your tea the same as when I left?' 'I came home.' I do not fully understand why I never send my texts. I save them in my drafts and they stay there, forgotten.
It was at the start of the second week of trailing after John when I realized how foolish this all is. Here I was, hidden in the shadow of the alleyways watching John go to his home. It pained me to see him limping again but I could bring myself to go to him. The cases were the only thing that helped John overcome it. I focused on something else as I watched John hobble along.
Mycroft of course knew of my survival only a few days after I had jumped. He probably knew where I was as well, what I was doing. He was the British government after all. I had yet to reveal myself to Lestrade though. Mrs. Hudson nearly had a heart attack when she saw me. She was a mess after she hit me, all crying and sniffing.
I sighed and pushed off the wall. I turned to the opposite way John had gone.
It was truly pathetic. I was reduced to pine after John, to long for the one thing I could not have. With that thought I scowled. I knew with ease I could swoop back into his life. He was married now though. That changed the game. I reasoned to myself.
In the hidden corners of my mind I knew the reason why I did not do just that. I was afraid he would reject me completely. John Watson, without even trying has made Sherlock Holmes fear something. Without trying or even being aware of it he's made the sociopath love.
It couldn't continue like this. It was not something I wanted. This whole thing was in my mind, one of my worst habits. I decided to remedy this problem the only way I could. It would be seen to be an extreme from the outside view but for these wretched feelings it would be the only option. It was either this or waste my time in longing. I made my decision.
I will delete John Watson.
This idea has been running through my mind since I left the church. At first I dismissed it. Now though, it was the only way. It had to be.
Later that night after a few hours of mindless wandering I found myself back at my current residence. I did not consider it a home, not with John. It was quite a distance from where John and his wife's home was.
Once inside I close and locked the door. I wondered what John would do now if he saw me alive. Surely he would punch me but now I was unsure. Of course he would strike me but he does have a wife now. He had his soul mate. Isn't that what people say? He had found his other half. My lips twitch downwards. All of it is so pedestrian. A part of my mind whispers that she doesn't deserve John. But he had looked so happy together with her. This was for the best.
I will allow myself only a night. I'll allow myself for the first time to imagine how our future could've been if we had been together. I allowed myself to fully love John. If only for a night, I will entertain my hopeless fantasies.
It would do nothing to change anything. I know that. It was merely sentiment that I will indulge in. If only this one time. The first and last time. I move further into my living area. I make my way to my chair. It's a poor replacement for the chair from home but it would do for now. I bring my knees up to my chest. I close my eyes.
John would come home from the OR. He would smell of antiseptic and tea. Underneath it though there will still be the smell. The scent that screams John Watson. I would be been sitting on the couch or perhaps watching the telly when he would return home. He would hang up his coat, kiss my head and go make himself tea. Always drinking tea.
He would sit beside me with a tired groan. We would've wordlessly watch the telly together with entwined hands.
I smile.
John would stop correcting anyone who said we were together. Dare I say it he would show signs of jealously. John would show that special smile only to me. He will show some things only to me. We would love each other.
I could spend hours mapping his skin, his scars. John may shy away at first. I would coax him to relax though. One day we could even spend a whole day in bed. If John tries to leave for work I'll simply drag him back and kiss him senseless until any protest is lost to ecstasy.
I wonder how soft his lips would feel.
We could try new things. No matter what we would do together though as long as it was with John it would never be dull. No, John can never be boring.
My hands clench together subconsciously as I become more and more immersed into my fantasy. As I fell deeper into the rabbit hole.
I wonder what noises he would make. Would he want the more dominate role? He could possibly stop me thinking. He would take that as a challenge no doubt. Let's make the great Sherlock Holmes unable to think. Would he would me to take the lead? I would trace across his skin with my hands, with my tongue. I would map him out completely until he is writhing and begging.
I would mark John mine. I would leave marks all across on his neck. That way no one would ever doubt he doesn't belong to me. John would be allowed to do the same thing as well of course. I would want to be nothing but his.
Finally after being together for a long time I think I'd be the first one to ask him the question. It would be on a quiet Sunday afternoon. Maybe after a case even. I will pull a velvet box and open it to him. There would be no getting on one knee. John would love me. He would say yes.
I am unaware of the first tear that falls.
It would a quiet ceremony of course. Mrs. Hudson would probably be crying her eyes out. I would meet Harry. Lestrade may come. He likes John. Maybe for the honeymoon we would just stay inside the flat the whole time.
We would wear plain bands. Nothing that is too fancy.
My mind continues to fall further.
He could help me keep the bees. We would get a small cottage. He would complain about my lack of taking care of myself. I'd never learn but I wouldn't need to. I would have John. He would have me. We would be together.
My breathing hitches and open my eyes. I know I had indulged too much when I felt my wet cheeks. I know I need to put a stop to this immediately.
The Woman was proof that this truly was a chemical defect. This dreadful feeling that was creeping up on me made me feel ill. If I was going to delete him I must do it now. If I allow this to go on any longer then there is a chance I will not bring myself to rid myself of this disease. I will not allow my heart to rule my head. I will not allow myself to continue this any longer.
I stand up from the chair. My legs feel stiff. It's proof that I had been sitting there much to long already. I was briskly to my room. I close the door behind me. I will not allow myself to fall prey to emotions.
I write a quick note to myself before I go to my bed. 'Look for a new place to live.' And I leave it on the table.
I lie down on my bed. This place doesn't feel like home. Not of 221B. It lacks the warmth. I clasp my hands together and steady myself. It's for the best. "Good bye John." I murmur quietly. Again my tears fall. It's for the best. If John is happy with her…I want him to be happy. I take a deep breath. I love you.
I'm sitting in a quite restaurant. It is a quiet establishment. It's a good place as any to think over my housing arrangement. Just a few days ago I left that dreadful flat. I needed to find a place large enough for a large amount of books. I look for a place large enough for two people. I do not fully understand why.
My newly done ginger curls sit messily atop my head. My eyes rapidly move across a newspaper, taking in all the information.
I hear the footsteps before I even hear him speak. He has a limp. His voice his soft, almost shaky. "Excuse me." I glanced up and meet the eyes of a blonde man. Early forties maybe late thirties. He inhales sharply when I met his eyes. He looks pale. Shaken obviously. I think to myself. "Is there something you need?" I ask crisply.
The man opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He is obviously distressed. A loved one is most likely the cause but how that would concern me I do not know. My eyes dart across his appearance. Recently married. I note the shiny ring on his finger. He has spent time in the army. His posture is too straight and disciplined. His hands look rough. He reeks of bleach and hand sanitizer. He works in a hospital setting. He cuts off my deduction with a small gasp. My eyes dart up to meet his. He looks even worse. His eyes are glittering with tears.
Finally he speaks but it offers little to hold my interest. He's practically transparent, an open book. Not very interesting at all. "Sher.." His gripe tightens on his cane as he chokes on his words. His expression wavers. "S-sorry I mistook you for someone else." He turns away without another word.
Strangely I felt the sudden urge to reach out for him. I don't quite understand why. That's someone new I had not encountered yet. Still, I do not act upon it and I watch with an impassive gaze as he limps away.
My eyes continue to follow him until he reaches a woman. He takes the hand of the brunette woman. My hand clenches slightly. Again I do not know why.
She glances my way briefly before taking the blonde man's hand tightly. They walk away. "Psychosomatic limp most likely." I murmur before I return to my paper.
Just another boring passerby. He probably mistaken me for a deceased loved one considering his expressions and body language. Utterly dull.
Not quite happy with this. But I like it. Anyways feel free to review. Sorry if there's any mistakes. I didn't use a beta.