I do not own Sherlock
"Oh hello dearie," Mrs. Hudson said as the door opened.
"Hello Mrs. Hudson," the man at the door, a short man with a knitted jumper, said as he turned and closed the door. "How are you doing?"
"Oh I'm fine dearie," Mrs. Hudson smiled. "Have you come to visit Sherlock? He'll be glad you're here."
"Yes," the man answered just as he always did. Mrs. Hudson was a nice person, but she was nowhere near as interesting as the blind genius that he wanted to visit. Besides Sherlock was his best friend. He could never go into his house without even saying hello. And, because this is Sherlock we're talking about, he never got away with just a hello either. Not that he really wanted to. Ever since the first time that he came into the house to check on the blind genius's eyes, he has been captivated with him. That captivation soon turned to love and he asked Sherlock on a date. Of course Sherlock declined, he didn't want to go out on a date when he was blind, but he compromised with a night together without Mrs. Hudson in the house. He said that he loved the man soon after, but Sherlock has never returned the sentiment. He doesn't need him to, though. He knew from the very beginning that Sherlock would probably never love him. He was just content with being with him.
Ever since that first night together, he came every day to talk to his blind genius, but now it was all going to change.
"Well if you'll just follow me dearie," she said happily. "He's just upstairs laying on the couch."
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson," he smiled gratefully.
Of course, Sherlock was no longer on the couch when they reached the top of the stairs. Instead, he was at the door throwing it open the moment the two of them conquered the last step. "Well if it isn't Doctor John Watson," he smirked from his perch. He always took delight in surprising people like this and it was even more fun to surprise John because John was used to it and, therefore, harder to surprise.
"My goodness Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson gasped as she put her hand against her heart. Even though she had spent more time with Sherlock, being his caretaker, she would never get used to his surprises. "You're going to give a woman a heart attack one of these days."
"John," Sherlock completely ignored Mrs. Hudson and she took that as her cue to go. Sherlock reached out his hand, the hand not holding the stick that helped him walk, and John took it in his own and held it up to his face. From there Sherlock mapped out every inch of John's face just like he did every time they met. One time John had asked why he did it since he must have memorized John's face by then, but Sherlock had simply responded that there was always something that he could feel on John's face that told him how he was feeling. Apparently he didn't like what the face told him this time because he frowned and let his hand drop to his side. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing Sherlock," John responded, hoping that his voice didn't betray that what was wrong was most definitely not something. Knowing that it probably did, he chose instead to go onto another topic. "I wanted to talk to you about a procedure I heard about."
Sherlock's face immediately turned into a scowl. "I told you I'm done with all of that," he hissed.
"Why not?" John asked. "You used to want so badly to see and now it's just like you've given up."
"I'm just being logical," Sherlock answered in his I'm-totally-smarter-than-you way. "It will never happen. It's not possible."
"You don't know that Sherlock," John tried to press. "This procedure actually has a pretty high success rate. I think it could work."
"I've had enough of this Dr. Watson." John flinched. It was never good when Sherlock used his last name when speaking directly to him. "Get out of my house now." He slammed the door that he was still standing at in John's face.
"Please don't do this Sherlock," John called out through the door. He really didn't want to part ways.
"I will not talk to an idiot," Sherlock answered. "Come back tomorrow when you've gained some sense."
"Please," John begged, but Sherlock had already moved away from the door with no intention of coming back to it. John leaned his head against the door and bit his lip. He was hoping to at least get to say goodbye to Sherlock's face, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen.
"John?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Did you two have another domestic?" When John didn't answer she continued to say, "Are you okay?" with a worried look on her face.
"Yes Mrs. Hudson," John said once he finally pulled himself back together and started heading back down the stairs to talk to her. "Would you mind if I talk to you outside Mrs. Hudson?"
"Oh yes dearie," Mrs. Hudson replied.
John held the door open for her to step out and closed it behind the two of them just in time to miss Sherlock ripping the upstairs door open once more.
"What did you want to talk about dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"I was hoping you could apologize to Sherlock for me," John said.
"Me?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Don't you usually like to give your apologies in person?"
"Yes," John answered, "but he won't talk to me."
"I'm sure he'll listen to you tomorrow dearie," Mrs. Hudson said.
"I won't be coming back tomorrow," John shook his head.
"Oh why not?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Did Sherlock say something to you?"
"No Mrs. Hudson," John answered. "It's just that I won't be able to come back tomorrow."
"Why not dearie?"
John took a deep breath. He really wanted to be telling Sherlock this, but at least, if it came from Mrs. Hudson's lips, Sherlock wouldn't be able to ignore it. "I've been drafted into the army."
"But you're a doctor," Mrs. Hudson gasped. "They aren't supposed to be drafting doctors."
"It's any able bodied man, Mrs. Hudson," John explained. "They need everyone they can get. And the doctors are even more important because there's so few of them."
"Can't you refuse them dearie?" Mrs. Hudson asked as tears began to from in her eyes. She already knew the answer to that, but she still wanted to make sure.
"No," John sighed. "They drafted me. I can't refuse. I wanted to tell Sherlock this in person, but I made him mad at me and now he won't talk to me. Please tell him I'm sorry and that I love him. I'll send him a letter as soon as I can, but I won't be able to write it in braille for him, so can you read it to him for me?"
"Of course dearie." Now Mrs. Hudson was crying, but she was able to hold herself together enough to send him off with a hug and a smile. He deserved at least that much. "Be careful dearie," she whispered into his chest.
"I will. Thank you Mrs. Hudson." John returned the hug quickly before he turned and left the building and his lover behind.
Mrs. Hudson stood outside for only a moment longer before she went back into the safety of her own home to cry her tears.
"What did he say?" Sherlock asked from halfway down the stairs. He had been making his way down the stairs from the moment they had stepped outside until now and he cursed his blindness for making him take them so slow. "And don't say that it's not important because John wouldn't have asked to talk to you outside if it wasn't. He knows that I can hear everything that goes on in this house, so he took you outside to where I wouldn't be able to hear. So what did he say?"
"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson sobbed.
Sherlock's eyes widened immediately. "Why are you crying?" he demanded. There was worry evident in his voice, but he didn't really care. Mrs. Hudson was crying and she had just talked to John so it must have something to do with John.
"It's John," she said clearly not aware of his deductions. "He's… he's… he's been… drafted."
Sherlock froze. John was going off to be in the army. His John was going away. "That's not possible!" he screamed. "John promised that he would never leave me! He promised! You must be lying to me." But he knew that she wasn't lying. Mrs. Hudson never lied and, if she did, he would be able to detect the change in her voice. "You'll see," he said. "He'll come back tomorrow and then you'll see."
Mrs. Hudson would have said more, but Sherlock was already making his way back up the stairs, much faster than he should and tripping several times, so that he could slam the door behind him and throw himself against it and give out the loudest scream that Mrs. Hudson had ever heard. They both knew that John wouldn't be returning tomorrow.
And there was no sign of a doctor throughout the whole of the next day even though Sherlock waited patiently by the front door to greet him.
I hope you guys enjoyed this story as well. Please read and review with any comments, questions, or requests that you have. I accept flames as well.
