John thought that eventually he would be able to go back to 221B Baker Street. At first he would try every day. He would stand at the door and will himself to open it and climb the seventeen stairs. One day, about a month after Sherlock fell, John made it up the first three steps before his chest caved in on itself and his heart broke. No, he couldn't go back, too many memories of Sherlock.
So he avoided all memories of Sherlock. He stopped getting drinks with Greg or Mike. He deleted Mycroft's number. He stopped working at his old surgery, even Sarah reminded him of Sherlock.
There were some things though, that John kept. He kept his blog up. He kept Sherlock's number and all of the texts the madman had sent. And he even had Mrs. Hudson bring him Sherlock's violin and songs he'd composed. He couldn't make sense of the compositions or extract one note from the violin, but he needed them.
With only these memories, John reentered the world.
He found a flat on the far edge of London near a small surgery that he began to work full time at.
That's how he met Mary Morstan. A cute, short, blonde haired, brown eyed young woman that was nothing like Sherlock Holmes. She had come in with one of the children she nannied, the boy had fallen and needed stitches. Mary was sweet and it was she that asked John out. John had been blown away by how different she was from Sherlock that he had said yes.
One date turned into two which turned into a full relationship.
Where Sherlock thrived on the energy of the city, Mary loved nothing more than curling up on the couch and doing nothing. All day. When Sherlock would have been playing his violin at three in the morning, Mary slept quietly in bed. Sherlock was wild and passionate, Mary was calm and mild. Sherlock had revelled in the excitement of their life together, solving cases and running through London. And Mary, she couldn't understand why John had chosen to live like that.
And soon John didn't know why that life had appealed to him. And then he saw Sherlock's violin in the corner and he re-read his blog and he knew. It had been the danger, the thrill, and the man that he had loved. He had loved everything about his old life, including the man he had lived with.
This realization made him need Mary more. Because now, it wasn't just his friend that he'd lost, but the man he loved. Mary seemed to know this somehow and she loved John.
Which made John love her. Not in the same way he loved Sherlock, but in the forever grateful way. He committed himself completely to Mary. He adopted her dull lifestyle and her average ideals and her unextraordinary desires to get married and have two and half children. And everyday he worked to convince himself that he did love Mary the way that he loved Sherlock.
So convinced was he one day, that he proposed. He'd only known Mary for about a year but he told her that this was what he wanted. He swore to her that she was the only one for him.
Then Sherlock bloody Holmes was suddenly back in his life.
John had gone to Central London to pick up the wedding rings and who was the man driving his cab? Sherlock Holmes. If it hadn't been for the seat back between them John would have punched Sherlock silly.
And what did Sherlock do? All he fucking did was congratulate John on his engagement.
John really ought to have punched him.
Sherlock had driven John to the jeweler's in silence, only speaking again when John got ready to pay.
"No fee for friends," Sherlock had told him.
This made John laugh coldly. "Friends don't let friends think they're dead."
"Did it ever occur to you that I had very strong motivation to do what I did?" Sherlock asked back just as icily.
John barked another harsh laugh before Sherlock dove into his explanation.
"But why three years?" John asked, voice thick with emotion after Sherlock had finished.
"I had to ensure that the web was completely destroyed or risk your safety," Sherlock said calmly.
"Well, it's great that you're back!" John said, falsely happy.
Sherlock of course detected this and he turned around to see John's face. "Why are you lying John?"
John paused before telling a half truth. "Because you just made things a hell of a lot more complicated for me."
"Why?" Sherlock asked persistently.
"Because I have a new life now Sherlock, I'm getting married," John whispered hoarsely.
Now Sherlock laughed. "What new life? I know how you've been living John. How can you bear it?" He asked truly confused.
"I bear it easily! It's nice, consistent!"
"'Nice,' a word of the mediocre," Sherlock snorted.
"I like my 'nice' life!" John argued.
"But you loved our life! This new life, isn't you John. You aren't some doctor. You are a soldier," Sherlock retorted. "What does this life give you that ours did not?"
"Love, Sherlock, love! My fiancee loves me!" John nearly yelled in the small space of the cab.
Sherlock thought for a moment. "You say that she loves you, don't you love her?" He asked obstinately.
"It's complicated Sherlock!" He answered. "I mean, of course, I love Mary," He sighed suddenly tired.
"And what would you need to convince you that this isn't the life for you?" Sherlock asked, his voice gentle but with an edge.
John knew that this was thin ice and if he answered he might as well be going at it with a sledge hammer. "I need what only she gives me, love Sherlock."
"I can give you love!" Sherlock yelled.
A sudden silence crushed John and Sherlock within the taxi.
"What?" Was all John could get out.
"Nevermind," Sherlock huffed turning away, hiding his now pink cheeks. "You wouldn't want it from me anyway," he whispered to himself.
But John did hear. "Of course I would want it with you," He breathed, completely amazed.
"What?" Sherlock said now.
"Sherlock, I may have realized this far too late, but I loved you," John started to explain, his voice cracking. "I still love you."
Sherlock looked back to John now, searching his face and finding honest sincerity. "I- when we lived together I felt things that I wasn't able to identify. But after two months without you, I knew, I felt love. I am in love, with you, John."
John fully grinned for the first time in more than three years. "I'm in love with you, Sherlock."
Sherlock leant over the seat and gently pressed his lips against John's.
John was overwhelmed with the amount of love in their kiss and he kissed Sherlock back gently.
But the outside world invaded upon their moment as it often does. John was flooded with guilt as he remembered why he had even gotten in this cab. He pulled back and looked into Sherlock's loving eyes.
"Sherlock, what about Mary?" He asked cautiously.
"Leave her, John," Sherlock whispered. "Come back home with me."
John nodded and kissed Sherlock again. "But I've got to talk to her, I can't just leave."
"Why not?" Sherlock asked.
"Because, that's the polite thing to do! We have been together for a year, we were going to get married! At the very least I owe her an explanation," John explained, feeling like he felt before whenever he had to guide Sherlock through emotions.
"Fine," Sherlock said haughtily before becoming vulnerable. "She won't make you change your mind, will she?"
John gave Sherlock another kiss. "Nothing can make me change my mind at this point," He promised. John stepped out of the cab turning to look in on Sherlock. "You're not going to drive away are you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Sherlock smiled.
John smiled back before walking away a bit so the call could be somewhat private. In a truly Mary fashion, she answered on the first ring.
"There isn't a problem with the rings is there?" She asked right away.
John collected his thoughts, preparing a speech. "No, I haven't even seen them."
"Is traffic that bad?" Mary asked.
"No, I'm right in front of the shop," John replied awkwardly.
"Then what's the problem John?" Mary asked, concern and worry in her voice.
"Sherlock's alive," Was all John managed to get out.
Mary's end went silent and right when John thought she had disconnected there was a small. "Oh."
"I love you Mary, so much," John offered.
"But not like you love him," John could tell by her voice that she was near tears.
John tried to argue against this but Mary cut him off. "John, I've always known that I would forever be second to Sherlock," she took q shaky breath. "I just didn't know that you'd ever have to actually make that choice."
"I am so sorry Mary. And I do love you," John said earnestly.
"I love you too, John. And if you ever decide that you want a life with me..." She didn't finish because they both knew that a life with Sherlock was the only one that would satisfy John.
"Of course, Mary," he promised anyway.
"Bye John," she finally sobbed disconnecting the call.
John put his mobile back in his pocket and returned to the cab. He felt one small tear escape his as he sat.
Sherlock examined it curiously. "John, if you would be happier with her," he started.
"No, no," John assured him. "It's just a tear for her, you know?"
Sherlock nodded like he understood but he and John knew that he didn't quite.
"Where to?" Sherlock asked jokingly, breaking the solemn atmosphere.
John smiled and leaned forward, kissing Sherlock's cheek. "Home, if Mrs. Hudson will have us."
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