The Best Speech: a Johnlock fanfic
I'm so nervous I'm sweating through my suit. Today's the big day; I'm about to get married! Everyone's in the church, and Sherlock's about to start the wedding off by giving his speech.
"I am so proud, John, to have been able to call you my colleague, my friend even, over the past few years. And I want you to know that I am so happy that you finally have found l–" He crumples the paper and drops it on the floor. "Sorry, Lestrade," he says with an apologetic smile. Then he turns toward me. He clears his throat.
"John, I know the kind of speech you want me to make. The one where I gush on about how it's great that you found true love and how we're all so happy for you and Mary. But I can't give that speech. Not truthfully, anyway. I just can't stand you not knowing how I really feel while you're still free. The truth is, John, that I– well, I better start at the beginning. When I saw you for the first time, I figured there wasn't a chance. You were the solid military guy that saw no more than a potential flat-mate. Then, as we began working together, I became a bit attached to you. I got to see who you really were, and I gained a faint hope. I covered it up, though, because I was sure that something would happen. Something like this. Then, I really started to fall and I thought you might too. That just made it harder. I had to hide my feelings from the person who knew me best, the person whose feelings I thought might mirror my own. And now I see you, marrying this woman, perfectly happy, and I know I was wrong. I was your friend, your roommate, nothing more. I'm sorry for ruining your wedding, as I know I have, but I have to say it just once before you marry her. I love you, John." He turns on his heel and runs out of the church, leaving everyone stricken. I stand up. "Sherlock, wait, I–" But it's too late. He's gone, and he'll never come back.
It's been two months since that day. I broke it off with Mary, of course, and I still haven't seen any trace from Sherlock, no tiny clue as to where he went. Maybe he's in the States, maybe he's in some third-world African country like Tanzania. Maybe he's dead. I guess I'll never know. And he'll never know what I didn't finish saying at that wedding. I love you, too.