I don't own any Sherlock characters!
I Forgive You
John awoke with a sharp yell. He sat up quickly in bed, looking wildly around. His breathing finally began to slow and his heart lessened in pace slightly. John let out a shaky breath and brought his knees to his chest, images of Sherlock's fall still swimming in his head. It was as though his brain had seared that image into his eyes, forever remembering. John sat huddled in his bed for a while, tears falling silently down his face.
This was a usual night for John Watson. For three years, grief was his constant companion, and the nightmares were always there, constantly plaguing him. This was constant until 1 week ago, when a certain constulting detective turned up at the flat and John nearly passed out.
Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, making John jump.
"Y-yeah?" John asked, his voice slightly shaking. The door opened slowly and Sherlock's pale face appeared, blue robe strung around him like a cape.
"John?" he asked, almost gently.
"Oh." John sighed, still getting used to seeing that face.
"Are you alright?" Came Sherlock's deep vibrato voice, hesitantly at the doorway.
"I suppose." John shrugged and then leaned over and clicked on the lamp on his bedside, "Did I wake you?"
"No." Sherlock said flatly, "I was up. I just heard you and thought you might want some company… but if you would like me to leave that is just as well…" Sherlock trailed off, casting a hopeful eye John's way.
A small smile inched it's way onto John's face and he tiled his head to the side, indicating that Sherlock should come and sit.
"That's fine. Thanks." John said, patting the empty bed space next to him. Sherlock inched forward and sat down carefully at the end of his flat mates bed.
"So." John began, leaning back until his head was touching the bedpost, "What were you working on?"
Sherlock turned and then swung his feet dramatically onto the bed as well, crossing his arms over his head, "I was calibrating spores."
"Oh." John remarked grinning, "very nice. And you still don't know the concept of sleep do you?"
Sherlock checked his watch, "4:30 is a perfect time to do experiments. It is a time where no one is being stupid or interrupting me."
John's face fell slightly and he quickly looked away from Sherlock while replying,
"I'm sorry."
"For what John?" Sherlock turned.
"For interrupting you. Your experiments are very important and-"
"Shhhh." Sherlock cut him off. "Please don't be sorry John. You are the last person who should be apologizing, saying as all evidence points to your nightmare being-" Sherlock paused, choosing his words carefully, "about me and all."
It was Sherlock's turn to avert his eyes. John coughed awkwardly, "Well." He began, "Yeah, but still. You didn't need to come and check on me."
"Of course I did!" Sherlock burst out suddenly, making John jump. "I am the bloody idiot who put you in this mess. I broke you John!" Sherlock nearly yelled in frustration. John flinched slightly at his words, his eyes wide and staring.
"Dammit John, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"No." John said, sitting up a little more, "Don't. It's ok."
"But it's not John! I have no clue how to make this better."
"Maybe not lying to me, for starters." John said coldly.
Sherlock heaved a sigh, "But I had to! Don't you see, John. You would have died if I would've told you the truth! And if you had died, I-" Sherlock broke off, his eyes distant and almost horrified, "I don't know what I would have done then?"
John stared at Sherlock for a long time, and his face softened.
"Come with me Sherlock." John said suddenly sliding his bare feet out of bed and grabbing Sherlock's hand as well. He and Sherlock headed to the large window on the other side of John's room. John clicked off the lamp of the way there, so that the only light in the room was from the little squares of moonlight reflecting off the window.
"John what are we?-"
"Shhhh." John grabbed the latch of the window and pulled it open. Then he took Sherlock's hand in both of his and then he began to lie down on the carpet under the window, Sherlock followed suite. The both were now positioned under the window, looking out onto the dazzling moonlight and map of stars above them. There was a small breeze wafting through the open window, playing along Sherlock's dark curls and John's dressing gown.
"Just look." John whispered. And they did. For a while, neither of them spoke.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" John finally said, now looking at Sherlock. Sherlock turned his head and looked directly into Johns eyes. The moonlight was playing a soft glow around both men, making their eyes bright.
"Yes it is." Sherlock replied, not taking his eyes off of John.
"I'm sorry for leaving you." Sherlock said at a whisper.
John smiled a warm smile but didn't say anything. The two flat mates lay on the floor, still looking at each other. Then John began to slide closer to Sherlock, and once again, Sherlock followed suite. They moved together until they were only an inch away from each other, the tips of their noses brushing slightly. Sherlock pressed his cool forehead to Johns.
John closed his eyes and breathed in Sherlock's warm breath. Then he whispered back to Sherlock.
"I forgive you."