As always, I absolutely don't own these characters.
John woke up with a kink in his neck. Not just in his neck actually, it felt like that over his whole body, one huge pain. He was exhausted beyond belief and for some odd reason in a car, and freezing cold. He looked over to see Lestrade in the driver's seat also uncomfortably asleep. Then it all came washing back, Sherrinford, Sherlock's terrible sister, and what she had done to them. A groan escaped him. Taking in his surroundings he had not a clue where they were.
"I had to see to it that she was watched over all night," a baritone voice mumbled from the back seat. John snapped his head toward the back seat and looked at his best friend, he had never seen the man so tired.
"Why is Greg passed out?" John asked quietly.
"He had apparently been searching non-stop for us since the explosion at Baker Street. I told him to get some sleep, it only takes one person to watch a building," Sherlock stated, still not making eye contact with John. He looked over the detective, Sherlock's hands still slightly shaking as he ran his scarf through them, bandages tossed aside, and dark circles to match his own below his eyes. Never had he seen Sherlock like this, so torn up over Euros' empty threats toward Molly. When John was threatened the man wouldn't waver, trusting his friend to defend himself in most situations, when Ms. Hudson was threatened he would be enraged, threats directed at Sherlock were laughed off with ease, but this…
John had never seen nor heard panic so genuine come from Sherlock.
"So this is where Molly lives? Nice um… street," John tried.
"Moriarty once told me he'd burn the heart out of me," Sherlock croaked out. John realized Sherlock had been crying, his face swollen and red. "He had dated Molly, gotten close to her… close enough to hurt her. He would have hurt her last because he wanted to know how far he had to go to break me… Euros was not so kind. She went straight for my heart."
"How long have you known you loved Molly?" John questioned. From his perspective Sherlock and Molly had always had a distance, more work friends than real friends. Sure Molly had fancied Sherlock, but so had thousands if not millions of fans.
"Always in a way. It was such a foreign concept in my mind I didn't want to accept it, so I tried to ignore it. It tore me apart to hurt her with my deductions, but those words kept her at a safe distance. And I never imagined how freeing it would be to say those words out loud," a small smile crept onto Sherlock's face.
"What'd she say when you went in to see her?" John smiled back.
"I didn't- I couldn't, Mycroft and his people had already been by and explained everything when we got here so… I just wanted to make sure she didn't leave the country in a rush or something else equally stupid," Sherlock rattled off. "If you need to go see Rosie right this moment-"
"You idiot," John said flatly.
"Pardon?" Sherlock finally turned to face him.
"You're an idiot. I'm an idiot. We're co-presidents of the idiot club!" John laughed stirring Lestrade. He lowered his voice back down to a whisper, "I'm an idiot because I couldn't see that you were in love with the girl this whole time, but now that I think about it god- my god, you," John threw a finger in his direction dramatically, "have been quietly pining over this woman for years. The looks when she isn't looking, those weren't for manipulating those were your real heart. And the compliments in her appearance, I always wondered about those because you 'delete anything not useful'," John mocked, "but you notice fluctuations in her weight, and her appearance, the smallest little detail changes and you have to make a comment."
"I don't understand how I'm an idiot?" Sherlock questioned.
"Because you told the woman you loved her for the first time tonight, and instead of going and talking to her about it like you should, you Sherlock bloody Holmes, are creepily sitting outside her flat to make sure she doesn't run away from you," John smiled widely, "Even Anderson would know better."
"How dare you insult me with that comparison," Sherlock retorted, "and what would I do if- if I went up there and I fully confessed my love and she rejected me? What then John?"
"She wouldn't, you heard her, she loves you too-"
"But I've caused her so much pain," Sherlock interjected.
"Love heals all wounds Sherlock, sometimes it's just that simple. You can mend your hurtful words of the past with loving ones now," John stated, "Build on the past, don't try and sweep it under the rug, you two have a solid friendship and an obvious undying love. You use the foundation of your friendship to build a house out of love."
"I understand very little of what you are actually saying John," Sherlock smiled, "but I think I get the message."
"Twat," John mumbled as Sherlock opened the door to exit the car.
"Next time use less analogies when giving someone a pep talk, you're a bit hard to understand Doctor McCoy," Sherlock teased as he climbed out of the car. John watched his friend walk, a little less confident than normal, up to the building and get buzzed in. He then turned his attention to the sleeping inspector next to him.
"Uh... Greg I need you to wake up," John said at full volume as he shook the man's arm.
"I have been awake, you two girls don't whisper as quietly as you think."