The one time John sang 'You are my sunshine, and the one time he didn't finish
1.
Sherlock walked in the flat and slammed the door, startling John as he finished typing up their latest case. He threw his coat and scarf down on the floor and fell onto the couch angrily with a humph as he crossed his arms over his chest and seethed quietly. He only calmed a bit when he felt John's hand run through his hair. He leaned his head onto the doctor's leg, seeing as how John was standing up next to him.
"What's wrong, Love?" When he didn't get an answer, he sat down and turned Sherlock's head so he was forced to face him. "Sherlock?"
Sherlock looked at John, and before John could confirm that what he saw in Sherlock's eyes was hurt, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and rested his head on the doctors shoulders, his breathing a bit laboured but regularly paced. "Are they right?"
"Is who right about what, Love?"
"Anderson and Donovan, am I a freak?" Sherlock's voice broke and he prayed that John didn't hear it, though he knew he did. The doctor wrapped Sherlock in his arms and kissed his shoulder while rubbing small circles on his back.
"Of course not, Love. They're idiots, you've said so yourself, why are you letting them get to you now?"
"I don't know. I don't like not knowing, but I don't. They said that you'd get tired of me and leave me, that it was only a matter of time. Don't leave me, John, please. I love you."
"I love you too, Sherlock, and I will never leave you. I need you too much, you're my everything." Sherlock sniffled and nodded laying his head on his chest. John laid them down so that Sherlock was half laying on him, his dark curls tucked under his chin as he rubbed his back. Sherlock continued to sniffle, a few tears making their way down his cheeks as John quietly sang to him, like his mother used to when he was a small boy.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine,
You make me happy
When skies are grey,
You'll never know just
How much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.
John's soothing voice calmed him down, and mixed with his hand rubbing his back lovingly and his steady heartbeat, it lulled Sherlock into a much needed sleep.
2.
John awoke to the feel of the bed jostling. He turned on his side to see Sherlock thrashing about in his sleep, the way John did when he had a nightmare.
"John, please, stay with me," he cried, "don't leave me, please. Just stay awake for me, John, stay awake."
John reached out and gently placed a hand on Sherlock's cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "It's alright, Love, it's just a dream. I'm fine, you're fine, I'm right here with you. Wake up now, Sherlock, it's alright."
Sherlock's thrashing slowed down and his eyes scrunched up before opening, searching the darkness for John. He looked to his left side, then his right and was met with John's caring, concerned face. He wrapped his long arms around the doctor and clung to him for dear life. He sobbed into John's T-shirt as the doctor kissed his forehead and soothed his hair back. John didn't say anything, didn't tell him to calm down, that it was only a dream, because he had nightmares too, and he knew that the fact it wasn't real wasn't enough to just up and forget it, he knew that it was upsetting and just let Sherlock cry into him as he held him, rocking him back and forth lovingly.
"I know, Love, I know. I'm right here, and I love you, so, so much." He planted a kiss on the shaking detective's temple and sang:
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine,
You make me happy
When skies are grey,
You'll never know just
How much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.
Sherlock slowly calmed down and sniffled. John wiped away his tears with his thumb and placed a sweet kiss on his salt lips.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Don't apologize, love. I understand." He rested his face in Sherlock's hair, enjoying the feeling of the soft hair as it brushed against against his nose and eyelids. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"Do you want to tell me what it was about?"
Sherlock hesitated, as expected, but sniffled and looked up at the doctor. "We, we were on a chase, and the man, he aimed a gun at you. I couldn't get to you in time, he shot me in the leg and I couldn't get to you, I watched from afar as you bled out, looking lost and scared as you looked for me, called to me, pleaded to me to be with you, to hold you in my arms but I couldn't, and you died not knowing where I was, thinking I deserted you." Sherlock began quietly sobbing once again as his hold on John tightend. "I will never desert you, John, not again. Please believe me, I promise I will always protect you, no matter what. I don't want to let you down, and I don't ever want to make you feel like I don't care." He felt John shift a bit as he laid down, bringing Sherlock with him. Sherlock rested his head over John's heart as a reassurance.
"I know you won't, Love. I know you'd never leave me, not unless you absolutely had to. And you can never let me down, I know you would never do that to me. I know you love me, and I love you too." He tilted Sherlock's head up and placed another gentle, caring kiss on his lips. He pulled the duvet up over both of them and rubbed Sherlock's back as he fell asleep.
3.
John woke up to the whimpering of a small child, whom was standing in the doorway to his and Sherlock's bedroom. A little girl with blonde curly hair stood with wet eyes and a runny nose as she looked at him pleadingly. John grabbed a tissue and walked over to her, wiping her nose and throwing the tissue in the trash bin before collecting the wee girl in his arms.
"What's the matter, Anna?" John asked as he rubbed the three year olds back, "Did the storm scare you?" Anna nodded and her father planted a loving kiss on top of her curls. John looked back at the sleeping Sherlock, and turned to take Anna out into the living room. Annabelle Watson-Holmes, though adopted, held resemblance to both her parents, her Daddy's blonde hair and her Papa's curls, and hazel eyes. It was sad how they got her, really, they had been on a case, the murder between a man and his wife. As they were entering the home, a cry was heard from upstairs. John, being the good-hearted man he is, ran up and found a baby girl standing up in her crib.
The little girl couldn't have been more than a year and a half old, and John's first instinct was to pick her up. She cried at being handled by a man she didn't know, and from what had just happened to her parents, which were laying in front of her crib with blood pouring out of their heads. John stroked back her blonde curls and the small child slowly calmed down and fell asleep in his arms, sucking her thumb in her near-toothless mouth. Later on, at the yard, they discovered that the young girl was named Annabelle, and that she didn't have anyone to go to, so John said they'd take her, and he could still remember the look on Sherlock's face. John smiled at the memory of the first day they had her.
John was putting on his jacket and checking his pocket for his keys, phone and wallet as Sherlock came out of the bedroom, a scowl littering his usually calm features.
"I don't see how this is fair," he spit out.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but I have to go to work."
"It's not fair that I have to stay here with the child when you were the one who wanted to bring it home."
"She's not an it, Sherlock, she's a baby, our baby."
"I have no idea how to take care of a child," Sherlock said as his scowl deepened, "I am not to be blamed if you come home and it's dead."
"Sherlock," John hissed, anger seething through his veins, "you will be fine and you will not let anything happen to her. Am I understood?" Sherlock didn't say anything but nodded. John's expression brightened a bit. "Good. Now, I'll be home around 5 p.m and I will see you both alive when I get home." He gave Sherlock a kiss on the lips before turning out the door, shutting it and standing in front of it for a moment before leaving to catch a cab.
He focused on his work, but couldn't help the slight uneasiness that crept over him. When he got back to the flat, he practically ran up the stairs and nearly burst inside. He was met with an empty living room, and he made his way to the bedroom, composing himself as he was met with a closed door. He turned the knob slowly and peaked inside, what he saw almost made his jaw dropped. Sherlock Holmes was sitting against their headboard, cradling Annabelle in his arms, smiling down at her. As if that wasn't weird enough, he was singing her a lullaby.
When you love,
You're not alone.
The one you love,
Is there besides you.
Never lost,
Or on your own.
A gentle hand,
Is there to guide you.
John smiled as he listened and watched the two. Sherlock placed a kiss on Annabelle's forehead and laid his head back on the headboard. "Wipe that victorious grin off your face, John, it doesn't suit you to gloat," Sherlock said softly
John didn't ask how he knew his facial expression with his eyes closed, just smiled a sincere smile. "I thought you didn't want to be left alone with 'it'".
"Yes, well, she was crying."
"She couldn't have been crying for long, why didn't you just leave her?"
Sherlock sighed. "Fine. If you must know, I didn't like to see her so upset. Wipe that damn smirk off. You were right, okay? Enjoy it now, it doesn't happen often."
"You can be mean, you know that?"
"I know, and I love you for dealing with it. Love you for who you are and love you for loving me, for fixing me and giving me a reason to be better."
John smiled again as he ran a gentle hand over Annabelle's head. "So, you're alright with her staying here then?"
"It's like you said, she's our baby."
John was pulled back into reality when Anna pulled on his shirt. "Ssh, it's alright, sweetheart. It was just a dream, daddy's here." He swayed back and forth slowly, until the young girl stopped crying. He kissed her temple and sang to her, like he did whenever she was afraid.
You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You'll never know just
how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.
Anna was asleep before the song ended, and John carried her up to her bedroom. He laid her on her bed and pulled the covers up so she would be nice and warm, then placed her stuffed fox next to her, which she gripped in her sleep. He smiled at her, gave her one last kiss on the forehead, then walked downstairs to his own bed.
4.
John's phone rang at 11 p.m. He looked up from his laptop and glanced at his phone, bearing an unknown number across it's screen. "Hello?"
"Hello, is this John Watson?" a woman asked.
"Speaking, who is this?"
"My name is Dria, I work at Club 86, we need you to come and pick up a Sherlock Holmes, he passed out."
John sighed and shook his head. "Right, I'll be right there."
"Ask for him at the entrance."
John hung up the phone, and walked down to Mrs. Hudson's flat, hoping she was still awake. He sighed in relief when she answered her door, just as chipper as always despite the fact she was in her nighty.
"John, dear, what's the matter?"
"Mrs. Hudson, I know it's late but can you watch Anna for a bit please? i have to go pick up Sherlock."
"Oh my, what has that man gotten himself into this time?"
"Passed out at a club."
"Oh that man, really. Of course I will watch over Anna for you," she said with a sincere smile.
"Mrs. Hudson you're a saint." John kissed her cheek before running out to the street to catch a cab to the club.
Neon lights flashed and music played loud as the cab pulled up to the club. John told the cabbie to wait for him, then got out and walked up to the door.
"I'm here to collect Sherlock Holmes." The man at the door nodded and lead him inside, past all the bodies smushed together and to a room where Sherlock laid passed out on the couch. "Sherlock, Love, wake up," he said as he nudged Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock's eyes scrunched up a bit before opening. When he saw John, he smiled and hugged him, the alcohol still having an effect on his mind. Luckily, John had some practice in this area from dealing with Harry.
"Jawn! I missed you so *hickup* much!"
"I missed you too. Now let's get you home."
"I don't *hickups* want to go home."
"Where do you want to go then?"
Sherlock thought about it for a moment before his eyes lit up and he answered. "Gallifrey!"
"Alright then, we'll go to Gallifrey, but you have to get up and come with me, okay?"
"What about Anna?" Sherlock asked as he got up.
"Mrs. Hudson's watching her."
"Okay," he said, not saying anything else until they got out to the cab. "Hey, John, this isn't the tardis!"
"Yes it is, the doctor fixed its chameleon circuit. This is how it looks now."
"Oh, *hickups* okay." The first thing Sherlock did when he got in the cab was say "Doctor, you regenerated again!"
John face palmed and moved closer to the cabbie. "I am so sorry. Just ignore him and I'll pay you extra."
The cabbie nodded in understanding and drove away towards the flat, ignoring Sherlock like John was as the consulting detective spurted out all sorts of drunken deductions. When the cab pulled up outside of 221B John paid the fee and an extra twenty quid before leading Sherlock, who thankfully forgot about going to Gallifrey, up to their room. He took off Sherlock's scarf, coat and shoes before the detective fell onto the bed, asleep before John could crawl in beside him. Though he was asleep, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and snuggled into his side. John brought up a hand and ran it through Sherlock's curls and sang
You are my sunshine,
My only Sunshine.
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You'll never know just
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.
Sherlock sighed a content sigh and nuzzled his head into John's neck before wandering deeper into the depths of unconsciousness.
5.
John and Sherlock stood at the altar, hands locked within one another as they leaned in and kissed, completely missing the applause from those in the pews watching them. All that mattered in that one moment was that they had each other, now and forever, that they belonged to each other. When their lips separated, they looked each other in the eyes and smiled. Now all three of their family had the last name of Watson-Holmes.
Anna ran up to them from her spot next to Mrs. Hudson and John picked her up, smiling at her before kissing her cheek. She wrapped her arms around her Papa's neck and looked out to the crowd of friends and family watching them through smiles, tears and applause. She was going to miss them while they were gone on their honeymoon, it was a whole week after all, but they promised to skype her every night, and her Gramma Hudson promised to play lots of games with her.
~At the reception~
John slowly stopped dancing with his new husband as the song ended, and leaned in for a kiss, which Sherlock gratefully granted him. The guests applauded and some had tears in their eyes before heading out to the dance floor themselves, while the newly weds sat down at a table. Anna danced with Mrs. Hudson, smiling and laughing as her Gramma Watson and Gramma Holmes joined in, and her parents waved to her.
Sherlock reached over and Grabbed John's hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the gold band resting on his ring finger. "I love you."
John smiled and pulled his husband in for another kiss, this one deep and passionate instead of chaste. "I love you too, Sherlock." The detective smiled and moved his chair closer to John, wrapping an arm around him and holding him close as John leaned into his embrace and wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist, laying his head on Sherlock's shoulder.
~Florence, Italy~
John and Sherlock arrived at the large cabin in the country outside Florence Italy. They tossed their bags on the bed, and John looked out at the captivating pinks and purples of the early morning sky, then Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and pulled him in for a kiss. John weaved his fingers through the dark, curly locks of his lover, an action which propelled them to deepen the kiss. John pushed Sherlock back until his legs hit the bed, sending them toppling onto the bed.
SMUT
Sherlock moved himself further up the bed, pulling John with him. John reached down and palmed Sherlock's hardening member firmly, drinking in the sight of the detective as his head fell back and he moaned into the air. John took this as an invitation to kiss the detective's long, pale neck. He kissed, sucked and nibbled his way down to where Sherlock's shirt began before undoing the buttons. Sherlock thrust his hips up to meet John's, who moaned before ripping the last three buttons off his shirt and threw it aside, before removing his own shirt. He kissed down Sherlock's chest as the detective began removing his trousers, John undoing Sherlock's at the same time. They discarded them as they fell forgotten to the floor along with their shirts and pants. Sherlock pulled John ontop of him and moaned delightfully at the skin on skin contact as their bodies connected flush together like magnets, two pieces of the same puzzle. He pulled John's head down and kissed him passionately as they began to make love for the first time as husbands.
John licked a stripe down Sherlock's chest to his stomach, then down to his throbbing cock, taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before flicking it across the slit. Sherlock moaned and thrust his hips up, causing John to hold onto his hips.
Sherlock adjusted his legs so that his knees were bent, John laying between them. Getting the hint, John stuck his fingers in his mouth before pushing one into Sherlock's entrance. The detective moaned as John began moving the finger in and out, then again as he added a second, then a third. He extended them a few times before pulling out and aligning his throbbing cock with the puckered flesh of Sherlock's entrance. He pushed himself in to the base, brushing past Sherlock's prostate.
"John," Sherlock moaned softly.
"God, you're beautiful," John breathed out. He pulled out and then pushed back in, not quite thrusting. He continued to do this, hitting Sherlock's prostate with every glide of his member. He reached down and began pumping Sherlock's own member in time to his continuous yet firm thrusts. He could feel the heat gather in his abdomen with every throb of Sherlock's cock and every call of his name, and soon he was releasing his hot seed into Sherlock as said detective spilled himself onto his and John's stomach, leaving them both panting and sweaty. John pulled out of Sherlock and collapsed on top of him.
Sherlock kissed the top of John's head and wrapped his arms around the doctor, resting his hands on John's sweaty back. John kissed his chest before moving up in the bed next to Sherlock. The detective was almost asleep.
"Go to sleep, Love."
"I want to, but I can't. Sing to me."
"You actually like that?"
"It's… calming. You have a nice voice."
John giggled a bit, and when Sherlock nuzzled his head into John's neck, he began to sing tiredly.
You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You'll never know just
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.
Sherlock smiled and sighed contently. "Beautiful," he breathed before falling asleep. John smiled and laid his face in the dark curls of his husband.
"Just like you."
And 1.
Moran aimed his gun at Sherlock and shot, but Sherlock never felt a thing, until something crashed onto his feet. He looked down and froze. At his feet, was John.
A bullet hole in his chest.
"John," he whimpered out, tears forming in his eyes but he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It wasn't until he heard Moran running out of the warehouse that he took action. He pulled John's gun from the doctor's coat and shot Moran in the back, then again, aiming for the head. He dropped the gun and knelt down next to John, cradling him to his chest as the doctor's eyes were falling shut. "John, John stay with me." John forced his eyes open a bit more, but couldn't lift them all the way open.
"Sh-Sherlock," he said quietly, "I love you."
"Stop." Sherlock said firmly. "You're going to be fine. Lestrade will be here soon, just, stay awake until the ambulance is here." John's eyes only started to slide shut. "What about Anna?" Sherlock choked out. "She needs you, she needs her daddy. Think of all the things you'll be missing if you die. You won't see her grow up, won't see her go to prom, get married, have children of her own. Look at what you'll be leaving behind."
"I love you, s-so much and tell Anna I l-love her very much too, that she made me very proud." Tears fell from Sherlock's eyes, but he wiped them away before they could hit John, who had tears in his eyes now too. He reached a hand up and cupped Sherlock's cheek weakly.
"You are my sunshine,
My only Sunshine."
Sherlock choked out a sob and pulled John closer to him, burying his head in the doctor's hair.
"Y-you m-make me h-happy,
When skies are g-grey.
You'll n-n-never kn-know just
H-how m-m-mu-ch…"
John's eyes fell shut as his chest stopped moving and his hand fell from Sherlock's cheek.
"John?" Sherlock asked, unable to breathe. Tears fell out of his eyes at a rapid rate as he looked down at his still husband. "John," he said again, louder. "No, no, no, no, no, no! John! John, please! Please…" he sobbed out as he pulled John as close as he possibly could. He could hear the ambulance in the distance but paid it no mind. He buried his face in John's hair and sobbed as if it would bring John back.
That's how Donovan and Lestrade found him, crying out John's name as he held the doctor close. Donovan froze at the sight and put a hand to her mouth, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes as she watched the detective in shock, she had never seen him upset before, and it showed her just how human the detective was. Lestrade gulped down the pain of seeing his two best friends like this and walked over to Sherlock, putting a hand on his shoulder as the E.M.T's came to take John's body away. Sherlock protested of course but after a while, the got him to let go, not even having the strength to pull away when Lestrade hugged him.
John is gone.
He's never coming back.
How am I going to tell Anna her daddy won't be coming home, that she won't see him again?
The thoughts running through his head make him take in a ragged breath before tears began to spill once more. Lestrade stood and helped him up, taking him out to the police car and putting Donovan in charge until he got back. The ride was silent for a while, until Sherlock spoke up quietly, more to himself than Lestrade.
"This is all my fault," he whispered.
"Don't say that, Sherlock. This isn't your fault," Lestrade said gently.
"Yes it is," he said, just as quietly as before. "He wanted to stay home. He said he was tired, that we should wait until the morning, when you were going to go, but I talked him into coming with me. If I hadn't done that, he'd, he'd still be alive. If I'd listened to him, just this once, we'd be at home right now, with Anna, probably watching a movie and laughing together. Now she'll never see her daddy again, and it's all my fault." Lestrade looked at him sadly, but didn't say anything else the rest of the ride.
When they pulled up outside of the flat, Sherlock got out and walked inside without a word. He stopped at Mrs. Hudson's flat, where Anna was, and regretfully knocked on the door. Mrs. Hudson opened with a smile, but it disappeared when she saw Sherlock's state, and the fact that he wasn't accompanied by his blogger.
"Sherlock…"
"Where's Anna?"
As if on cue, the four year old ran up to her father. "Papa!" she cried happily. Sherlock scooped her up in his arms and held her close. She didn't know anything was wrong until she pulled back and saw the tears in her Papa's eyes. "What's wrong, Papa? Where's Daddy?"
Sherlock's breath hitched and he kissed his daughter's temple. He walked over to the couch and sat down, Mrs. Hudson following behind. He took a shuddering breath and looked down at his daughter. "Daddy, Daddy won't be coming home, sweetheart."
She looked confused. "Why? Doesn't he want to see me?"
"Of course he does, sweetheart, but… Daddy was hurt, very badly, and… I'm so sorry, baby girl, but your daddy died tonight."
Mrs. Hudson let out a soft sob and Anna's eyes began to water. "Daddy…" Sherlock held her close as she began to cry, her small sobs breaking his heart further, causing him to cry once again too.
"He, he wanted me to tell you he loves you very, very much, and you make him very proud." Anna nodded and clung to her Papa as they cried. After a few minutes, Sherlock stood up and headed for the door. He asked if Mrs. Hudson would be alright, and she told him not to worry about her. He then took his daughter up to their own flat and got her ready for bed. She asked if she could sleep with him that night, and he didn't have the heart to say no. Truth be told, he really didn't want to sleep in the bed alone.
He placed Anna in the bed and got in next to her, sitting against the headboard as she crawled up to lay on his chest. He stroked back her curls subconsciously as he tried not to think of John. At some point, he must have started to cry, because he was pulled out of his trance by a small hand sloppily wiping at his cheeks. He smiled sadly at her, and she laid her head back on his chest. What she did next made Sherlock's breath hitch. She began to pet his chest and sang:
You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You'll never know just
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.
Sherlock let out a ragged breath at hearing his daughter sing the song that John had sang so many times. Despite the aching in his chest, he smiled down at his daughter and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Anna snuggled into his chest as he pulled the duvet up around them. "You're welcome, Papa," she said, falling asleep as her Papa rubbed her back.
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