A/N this has been in the making for sometime. I am not quite sure how good it is but I put it up anyway cause I like it. Also I changed the tense I used in the bulk of the fic so if there are error please tell me cause I might have missed some of them. R and R
John's Journal
Texts
'thoughts'
"Talking"
Once again I had been thought to be the lover of London's resident genius amongst geniuses, Sherlock Holmes, and though my feelings did indeed go much further than what one could construe as a purely platonic friendship Sherlock and I were not in fact a couple in the romantic sense at least, as most, well everyone that we knew and a lot of people that we don't, seem to be inclined to believe despite my protests.
Now that isn't to say that I am averse to being a couple because if I were honest with myself the feelings that I have could easily take the change. They are almost those feelings anyway even without me giving in to them. But I will not take that step because there is a problem.
Now I would give a lot to say that the problem is that Sherlock could not possibly reciprocate my feelings but that would be a lie. Sherlock wants that relationship, as big as the shock might seem, and he has even begun to subtly hint at it. This, if I am honest, really surprised me because I never thought that Sherlock was capable of being subtle.
He thinks that I am being dense and simply not noticing his advances or maybe he believes that I am hesitating because of a crisis of sexual identity, if only it was that easy. If it wasn't working toward my need for time I would be insulted that he thinks I am that stupid and unobservant. I mean I was in the army for crying out loud I would be dead ten times over if I was as unobservant as he seems to think I am. It is his fault, by the way, that I discovered that I have an interest in men. Up until I met him I thought of men in vague terms and all socially acceptable phrases that came with being a heterosexual male. But then I met him in that lab and he was all mysterious with his cheekbones and had that long swishy coat with the absurd collar that he turns up just to look cool and just like that my status as a typical heterosexual British male was ripped away leaving only a weak assertion of 'I'm not gay in' its wake.
But that isn't even the problem. The problem is that it's not only Sherlock that I like in a romantic way. It's funny actually because I reach middle age having only girlfriends and then I meet and fall in deeply love with two guys. Until this point I wasn't even aware that it was possible to love two people like this at one time. I had always thought that people that loved like this were just using love as an excuse to be with two people without cheating as far as they were concerned.
Anyway, Sherlock is obviously one of these guys. I don't know how it came to be though. He is annoying and petty, arrogant, abrasive, rash, and downright childish at times not to mention the fact that he stores body parts in our refrigerator. Seriously who does that? Well in that regard I'm not much better because I put up with it even before I realized that I was in love with him. But the thing is that he is also brilliant and can be so sweet at times. He's fun and exciting and has an amazing sense of humor. He's a miracle and he understands me. All of me and that's something that nobody else has ever done. I'm going to stop here because I already see that I sound like a smitten teenage girl and that is not good for my image or what little I have left of my dignity.
These feeling for Sherlock only make it worse that I love someone else too because I love him so much. It's surprising when I look back on it and I don't really understand when it happened but it did and I felt like I was cheating on my feelings for Sherlock when I realized that I was also in love with Mycroft.
Just kidding, that would be scary I actually trembled in fear as I wrote that.
John!
What?!
What are you giggling about? I could hear you all the way down here.
Nothing.
Well be quiet.
I'm glad that he didn't come up just then and see this. That would have been awful and I know that he would have just known if he had seen me.
Anyway the other guy responsible for screwing over my self-assumptions of my sexual identity is DI Greg Lestrade. I don't really understand it myself but nobody can deny that the man is bloody sexy. Yeah I said it well wrote it but the point still stands.
Before then I had no idea that it was possible to really love more than one person in this way and now I can't have either one because I refuse to choose and so by default I get neither and that is what is probably going to kill me about this whole situation. Not to mention, that I have no idea how Greg feels about me one way or the other and I refuse to alienate him by letting him know how I feel.
Every crime scene that Greg is at is like a stake through the heart now because of this and I don't know if I can keep this level of misery successfully hidden much longer. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better for all involved if I were just to vanish. Just disappear. Sherlock would be fine because he could just delete it all and nobody else in the circle that I have now would really miss me much I'm not all that special. Sure for a few years they would wonder where I went but then after that I would be as good as forgotten.
I have even managed to save up a bit thanks to my job so it isn't like money is too big of an issue at the moment. If there is anything that I have learned it is how to budget money. But what would I do all day if I did leave. Well before Mycroft would drag me back I would probably be so bored and lonely that I would sit staring at my gun and contemplate offing myself like I had before I actually met Sherlock and isn't that just a dilemma. I can't live without Sherlock and this lifestyle but I don't think I'll survive having to keep my love hidden. So the question is, would I prefer a quick death or a tortuously long one.
The only bright spot in this mess is that I saw my feelings for what they were before I could get involved with either of them.
I never took myself for a coward but I guess that's what I am in the end.
John!
What?
We have a case. Lets go!
'Oh joy.'
Sighing John got up and ran downstairs where I found a very impatient, fully dressed, consulting detective waiting on him. In three seconds they were out of the flat and in a cab heading to the crime scene. John looked out the window and watched as London as moved past the window mainly because he didn't want to look at Sherlock. John was sure that he would be able to see through him like he always did. He was actually surprised that Sherlock hadn't already. John guessed that he could attribute that to the fact that Sherlock was so inexperienced where the emotion of love was concerned that he just couldn't read it in him. John was almost certain that Sherlock knew that he held a lot of affection and attraction for him but he was sure that Sherlock was unaware of why herefused to pursue it since it was something that they both wanted.
"John," Sherlock said so gently that John was practically forced to turn around. He only used that voice when talking to his friend. It was a whole sentence just in his name. He was asking what was wrong and it hurt John that he couldn't get himself to actually tell him. But just how do you say to your best friend 'I love you and I also love someone else the same way I love you. Would you mind sharing me with him?' or perhaps you say 'it will break my heart if I can't have you both'.
John sighed there was no way that it would work out.
Mercifully Sherlock had no time to pry because moments later they arrived at the crime scene that Greg had called Sherlock to consult on. Sherlock exchanged the customary insults with Donovan and then he was in total crime-solving mode dashing about as gracefully as a feline while John stood back and watched with wonder and sadness.
Moments later Greg stepped closer to the detective to ask for his findings.
Suddenly a shiver passed over John and he looked around for what might have caused him to become so alert. Sherlock and Greg took notice of the John's preoccupation. Before either the detective or the DI knew what was happening John's compact form was ramming into them knocking them to the ground, just in time to avoid the worst of the blast from the small explosive, while the army doctor himself landed on top of the heap.
John was in an immeasurable amount of pain but even so he could not help but laugh breathlessly. The doctor the detective and the DI in a pile. All three of them together it was his fondest wish and here he was on top of the pile right where he had been dying to be it was funny.
Sherlock and Lestrade shook themselves free of the dirt and rubble that the explosion had caused to fall upon them. In doing so they realized that John had failed to get up as they had disentangle themselves. Both found out the reason soon enough.
In John's dive his side had been caught in the blast. Sherlock and Greg had escaped with mere cuts and bruises because John had acted so quickly.
"John!" Sherlock cried coughing as the grit in the air entered his mouth.
John was fading from the blood he knew he was and this might very well be his last chance to tell them. With strength dragged from somewhere, John feebly forced his left hand to land on Greg's. He didn't know if the DI would understand what he was trying to communicate but he felt better for knowing that he had tried.
When John opened the eyes he had no recollection of closing he say that Greg was slightly confused. John thought that this might have been because of the fact that he, like everyone else, had assumed that there was more than friendship between he and Sherlock. Or maybe he failed to see what John had been trying to say.
Sherlock on the other hand had a blank look on his face and John knew that Sherlock had understood what he was trying to tell Greg but had misunderstood and thought that he had chosen the DI over him. If John had the strength he might have laughed at the ridiculous notion, but as it was he only had the strength to inch his other hand to the closest part of Sherlock, which was his leg, and look at him with the expression of love that he never showed him before.
Sherlock understood and John smiled and felt content. The blood spilled from his body, people were calling out to him or at least he thought they were and then John Hamish Watson knew nothing else.
In the hospital Sherlock paced restlessly waiting for any news on John. It was the next day and he was restricted from seeing John until he was moved from the ICU which would be soon if all went well. He and Lestrade had, had to stay overnight themselves. Mycroft had gotten them a room together in this posh hospital which was why they were waiting alone in a room that was furnished with comfy chairs.
"Sherlock please sit down." Greg said after watching the man pace for no less than ten minutes.
Sherlock took a breath and sat in on of the chairs. He fidgeted madly though. How could he be calm when his best friend and could-be lover could be dead or dying?
Suddenly Sherlock had something else to concentrate on. John loved him and Lestrade. That was why he had been reluctant to enter into a relationship with him. Sherlock looked over at the DI startling the man by the intensity of the gaze.
Gregory Lestrade was a handsome guy. Sherlock thought he might be compatible with him. All he had to do was test the hypothesis. Surly with the proper amount of seduction on his part Lestrade would be interested and accepting of the situation.
"Greg," Sherlock said.
Greg nearly fell off the chair when Sherlock called him by his first name.
"I need you to kiss me."
Greg fell off the chair. Blushed deep red and sputtered incoherently for a moment. "You like John," the DI eventually managed to say.
"That is correct but John has feelings for the both of us. I need to know if we are compatible because that is the only way that I can have the relationship that I truly desire to have with John.
"Of all the crazy-" Lestrade got no further because he found a pair of soft lips covering his. Despite the fact that Greg had never kissed another man he felt comfortable and he leaned into the kiss. Before it could go too deep Sherlock pulled back.
With a grin he said "Well I don't think we have to worry about having no attraction between us" as he eyed Greg's obvious signs of arousal and tried to will away his own.
Lestrade didn't know what to think. He was still reeling from the kiss and the fact that somehow in the space of a few seconds he had entered into what promised to be an interesting relationship with a mad genius and one of the best men that he had ever had the chance to know. The scariest part was that he couldn't actually find it in himself to mind.
Then a doctor came out and led them to a room where a heavily-bandaged but certainly alive John Watson was occupying a hospital bed.
"Hey," the doctor greeted them weakly.
Sherlock nearly flew over to the bed and Lestrade followed behind.
"So," John said looking at them with a flushed face that made him more endearing than usual.
Sherlock obviously knew what he was getting at because he said "Everything is settled. Greg and I think that it would be an excellent idea to engage in a polyamorous relationship that is exclusive to the three of us."
John looked like he was ready to faint as he sputtered something that seemed like either disbelief or agreement.
But when he finally could speak he asked "Since when has he been 'Greg' to you?"
Three months after I got out of the hospital I was back on my feet and chasing the criminals of London and engaged in a relationship that I am grateful for everyday. I still can't believe it has happened and I am so happy might heart might burst. We have told no one of our relationship not because we are ashamed but because we don't wish for others to interfere. All of us are certain that Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft know about us though but they are the only they were the only two that knew before the unfortunate incident that occurred when Anderson and Donovan had burst into 221B unannounced but that's a story for a different time.
