"Because you chose her" Sherlock's voice rang out in the quiet room, and he watched John carefully as he processed the information.
"She wasn't supposed to be like that Sherlock! You were like that! And I… I…" He shook his head. "I got attached to you Sherlock, and then you had to go and get yourself killed. And I buried you, and I grieved. And I thought to myself, that it wouldn't happen again. I wouldn't fall for someone like you. Because I couldn't do it again. I couldn't fall in love with someone just to see them die. I can't do this anymore." Sherlock stared at John with a stunned look on his face, his mind whirling. Had John just said.. Love? John Watson had said that he loved him, or at least he had at one point in time. Sherlock stared, mouth agape as John stepped towards the door.
"John…"
"No Sherlock. I just… No. I can't deal with either of you at the moment."
Sherlock watched him go, a desolate look on his face. His heart was pounding uncomfortably loud in his ears, the beat a lot faster than normal. Sherlock frowned unhappily as the room began to spin.
"Mary can you call an ambulance please." He stated quite calmly. "I believe I"
He fell suddenly forward, clutching the doorframe. "Unfortunately I am going to need some help." The floor seemed to be getting closer and closer, and the last thing Sherlock heard before he fell unconscious was Mary yelling John's name.
Sherlock woke slowly, his brain fuzzy. There was a loud beeping in his ears and an uncomfortable taste in his mouth. His eyes blinked open slowly, his vision blurred.
"John…" There was a sudden movement to his left and John was there. He looked haggard; the lines on his face had deepened, as if he had aged 10 years in a short amount of time.
"I'm right here Sherlock. It's about time you woke up. You had massive internal bleeding from your wound. They had to restart your heart on the way to the hospital. You gave us quite a fright." John's voice croaked as he talked, he sounded terrible.
"How long have I been here?"
"Two days. You came in and out of consciousness the last few hours, but this is the first time you have been coherent. Sherlock stared at John, confusion etched on his face.
"Have you been here the entire time?" Sherlock asked as his voice cracked slightly from disuse. John smiled slightly.
"I've left a few times to get coffee."
"But you haven't left the hospital? That is highly illogical John, not to mention unhealthy. You need to eat, and sleep and drink something other than coffee." John smiled slightly again, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"I can't go home... Not with her there and you here." There was a pause, as John seemed to contemplate his next words. "She tried to make you leave me again Sherlock, and she almost succeeded. I can't forgive her for that."
"John…"
"No Sherlock." John's voice was firm; there was no room to argue. "Don't defend her. She shot you! God don't you understand! How could you trust her after that?" John's voice cracked, as if the rage that had been boiling was finally coming to the surface. "She tried to murder you. I don't need you to make excuses for her, and I don't need you to defend her. I don't know why you want me to stay with her, but I'm not going back. I don't have to live at 221B if you don't want me there, but I'm not, and will never, go back to her." John was breathing heavily by the end of the speech, his chest rising and falling unnaturally fast. Sherlock stared at him, slightly alarmed.
"I'm not going to defend her if you don't want me to John" he started tentatively. "I just want what is best for you… Of course you can come back to 221B if you want. I just didn't think…" He paused, considering his next words. "I thought you wanted the domestic life. I thought you wanted a wife and a family. You can have that with Mary. She's made some mistakes, but she loves you. She could give you what you need." The words Sherlock wanted to say caught in his throat. He couldn't finish that sentence. He couldn't tell John that Mary had something that Sherlock couldn't give him; John could figure it out on his own. He stared resolutely at the ceiling; he didn't want to see the change on John's face, the realization that he still wanted Mary, despite what she had done. There was a dull, throbbing, ache in Sherlock's chest and he had a feeling that it wouldn't be going away anytime soon. He finally risked a glance at John, only to see him staring in the distance, his jaw set in a rigid line.
"You should go to her John. She'll ask for your forgiveness." John head turned towards Sherlock his anger showing clearly on his face.
"God! For a genius you really are stupid Sherlock." Sherlock opened his mouth in indignation, but John continued. "I'm not going back to her. Ever. Can you get that through your thick skull? I don't need the domestic life unless it's with you." John's mouth snapped closed, and he looked away, as if he hadn't meant to let that last sentence slip. When he finally looked back at Sherlock. John's eyes were bright and his voice was sure and steady, there would be no doubting his words. "I'll have whatever you'll give me Sherlock. We can go back to the way we were… before, or we can be something more." Sherlock stared, he knew his mouth was gaping, but he couldn't seem to find the energy to close it. He tried to speak but the words caught in his throat.
"I.." He spluttered. The great Sherlock Holmes, who always had a snappy comeback, was left completely and utterly speechless. John just smiled, and leaned forward to press a soft kiss on Sherlock's forehead.
"You don't have to answer me now, hell you don't have to answer me ever. Just give it some thought. And if you don't… I mean that's fine. I just don't want anything to be awkward ok?" Sherlock's mind was overflowing with information, but he could not think straight due to the warmth of the spot on his forehead where John had gently kissed him. John wanted him, John wasn't leaving him, John wanted to stay. His thoughts swirled in a chaotic stream, and he couldn't find the words to express the elated feeling in his chest.
"John." That was all Sherlock could get out before he stopped again. How could he express what John meant to him? How could he tell him that he had always wanted him, would never leave him, he only ever wanted whatever John would give him. His feelings must have shown on his face, because John smiled softly and touched Sherlock's arm.
"It's alright Sherlock. Take your time." Sherlock leaned into John's touch, wanting more of John's skin on his. John leaned in slightly as well, and rested his forehead on Sherlock's. His hand came up to rest on Sherlock's cheek and John sighed, just resting against Sherlock. Something in Sherlock's chest unraveled. This was the way it was supposed to be. There was nowhere Sherlock would rather be. John moved his head back slightly and stared into Sherlock's eyes, searching for something. Whatever he was searching for, he must have found it, because a moment late he leaned in and kissed Sherlock. It was a soft kiss, just a brush of lips, but it was everything to Sherlock. John was kissing him, John's lips were on his, and it was absolutely perfect. John pulled back and looked at Sherlock, and Sherlock saw the warmth in his gaze.
"I never want to lose you again. And the best way to ensure your safety is to stay by your side. So I'll stay as long as you want me." Sherlock smiled and relaxed into John's touch. He knew there would be much to deal with later. They still had to figure out what to do with Mary, and Magnussen was still at large, but he knew all that could wait. Sherlock knew that no matter what happened in the future, he would always want John at his side, and that was enough for now.