Shattered - Sherlock Fanfiction

"Since this is the last time I'll likely ever meet John Watson again, mind if we take a moment?" Sherlock asked his older brother, who stood beside him.

Sherlock was mere minutes before he would be forced into exile, where he'd be parted from his loved ones for months- that is, if he actually survives where he's going…

But despite having to leave everything behind him: his life, his work, his friends.. There was a part of him that knew it was worth it. Now that Charles Magnusson is dead, Mary is finally safe from his blackmail, and therefore John is safe, which is something that Sherlock would do anything for.

Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, studied him for a moment, almost suspiciously. For a heartbeat, Sherlock feared that Mycroft was going to refuse him, but he then gave Sherlock a small nod and walked away.

Sherlock took a deep breath as John took a step towards him, sadness flickered in his eyes. He too knew that this was likely the last time they'd ever meet, and he needed to say good bye just as desperately as Sherlock.

'I'm so sorry, John..' Sherlock thought guiltily, this was the second time that Sherlock would have to leave him for John's safety. Sherlock's heart rammed against his chest as he tried to figure out what to say to say. He had to choose his next words very carefully if he didn't want it to end horribly wrong.

"Listen, John.." Sherlock sighed in a shaky voice, "This is possibly the last time we might meet again so.. So there's something I need to say before I go.."

Sherlock turned away from John's gaze for a second in nervousness, but then forced himself to look him in the eye. John didn't say anything, but his eagerness was betrayed by his stormy-blue eyes.. His beautiful, blue eyes..

'Stop it, Sherlock. Just stop it!' Sherlock thought hastily, shaking his distracting thoughts away. His final time with John was slowly ticking away. He had to make this count.

"Sherlock, what is it?" John asked in a concerned voice, tipping his head to one side. Sherlock tried to swallow, but his throat was snapped shut. He took another deep breath before speaking again,

"John, ever since the day we met.. All those years ago.. I've always had.." He paused for a moment before locking his gaze onto John's and forced himself to speak clearly, "I've always had feelings.. For you, and for you only.."

John's eyes widened, almost as if he didn't expect Sherlock to say that. He opened his mouth to reply, but Sherlock interrupted him,

"Of course, when I say'feelings', I don't mean.. Y'know.. General feelings of... friendship and stuff.." He mumbled awkwardly, regretting his choice of words immediately. Why was this so hard for him? He only wanted to tell John how he felt about him, which was perhaps the reason why it was so hard; Sherlock had no experience in talking about his feelings. He'd always keep his emotions away from him until now.

"So.. So basically what you're trying to say is that-"

"-I love you, John," Sherlock blurted out with a noticeable crack in his voice. He figured there was no point trying to stall what he was trying to say any longer. He knew what John would say anyway. "…I love you…"

The silence between Sherlock and John could have lasted for a few heartbeats, for a few months or ever whole lifetimes, there was no well he could tell; Sherlock wasn't concentrating on time, he was concentrating on John.

John didn't seem to have any words to reply with; he just looked at Sherlock with complete surprise. He opened his mouth slightly to reply, only to close it again. Uncertainty flashed in his grey-blue eyes, but Sherlock wondered if he saw a flash of admiration glow in John's eyes, or if it was his imagination trying to sooth him.

"You.. You love me?" He asked with genuine confusion in his voice. Sherlock nodded slowly, biting his lip has be braced himself for John's rejection, but instead he was faced with another question,

"So why didn't you tell me this before?" John questioned, leaning forward slightly, "You know, like before our last ever meeting?"

"Because you've always had an interest in other people. I took it pretty quickly that you preferred dating women, and you'd also insist to other people that we were not in a relationship, so it wouldn't take a genius to realise that you didn't want a relationship.. Well, not one with me, anyway.." Sherlock answered, not even bearing to look at John. "But you seemed a lot happier with Mary then you would have been with me. So I just tried to accept that we were just friends and that would be it. It was harder than I thought it would be, but I was just glad that you were happy, which was good enough for me.."

He kicked a pebble away from his feet, but could still feel John's burning gaze scalding him. He took John's silence as his reply. It was simple; John didn't love him. Feeling that he said what he wanted to say, and didn't want to be left heartbroken any longer, Sherlock turned around and entered the plane that would take him away.

As the plane took off, he could feel his heart shatter with each breath he took. His thoughts were occupied with nothing but John's face when Sherlock told him that he loved him. He didn't really expect any other reaction, to be honest with himself,

'At least he's happy now. Happy with Mary..' Sherlock thought to himself, but regret still placed itself inside of Sherlock's broken heart. Was telling John how he felt really the smart thing to do? He knew that at the same time, if he hadn't have told him the truth; he would have regretted it anyway.

'I guess that's what love does to you; it makes you regret things that never even happened..' He thought bitterly. Pain still lingered in his chest, and he figured that it would last for a long time..

"Sir? It's your brother," A voice snapped him back into reality. He shifted his gaze to his side and noticed that someone was waving a phone in front of him. Reluctantly, he took the phone out of the man's hand and pressed it against his ear.

"What?" He growled in a low-voice, hoping that it was clear that he was in no mood to talk to anyone.

"Hello, little brother. How's the exile going?" Mycroft's cocky voice rang through the phone, almost sounding as if he was going to rub in the fact that Sherlock wouldn't be around anymore.

"I've only been gone for four minutes." Sherlock snarled in a snarky tone. Why was his brother calling him? Didn't he know that Sherlock was in enough pain already?

"Yes, well, I hope you learned your lesson," Mycroft tone grew more serious, "You're coming back..."

"Oh for God's sake, make up your mind!" Sherlock spat in disbelief, "Who needs me this time!?"

"England.." Mycroft replied in exhaustion before hanging up the phone.

'I'm coming home...' Sherlock thought. He repeated the same thought over and over in his head, hardly believing it, 'I'm coming home!'

His hope then plummeted to the ground when he realised that he would see John again, who he doubted wanted anything to do with him now.

'I wonder what he'd say when he finds out I'm back again….'

The plane landed back into England, when the plane halted to a complete stop, Sherlock quickly exited the aircraft and was met by Mycroft, whose facial expression was unreadable,

"Ah, it's good to see you again, Sherlock-"

"Look, who needs me and why should I care?" Sherlock interrupted, wanting Mycroft to make his point as soon as possible.

Mycroft sighed in an impatient manner, but didn't refuse,

"Remember when Jim Moriarty shot himself? Well, turns out he didn't; he appears to be back. We don't know how, nor do we know why he's chosen to come back now, but I'm willing to bet that the whole of England is in danger and we need your help."

Sherlock eyes widen in shock as he took a step backwards. Moriarty? James Moriarty was alive!?

"But he killed himself! He was there on the rooftop when he killed himself, how could he be alive?" Sherlock asked in disbelief, tipping his head to the side.

"You killed yourself and didn't stop you from coming back!" Mycroft retorted in a sarcastic manner.

Sherlock was about to reply until he heard a voice call from behind him,

"Sherlock!" A very familiar voice shouted. Sherlock turned around and saw John sprinting towards him. He looked behind John's shoulder and could see Mary sitting in the car from a short distance away.

"Did you just hear about-"

"-Moriarty's return? Mycroft just told me about it." Sherlock finished off John's question. He quickly turned away from John's stare and tried to focus his attention to Mycroft, hoping he'd be able to tell him more about Moriarty's return, only to find that he was already walking away from him towards his own car. Leaving him alone with John again.

Sherlock didn't know what to do, but it was John, who spoke up first,

"Sherlock, you forgot something before you left."

Sherlock looked up but was immediately pushed backwards slightly as John wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Sherlock froze himself for a brief heartbeat in confusion, but then clung himself around John's shoulders, not wanting to let go.

"Why did you go before I said Goodbye?" John asked in a hushed voice into Sherlock's ear, making him realise that John did want to say goodbye after all.

"I.. I thought you didn't want to say anything.." Sherlock replied, feeling guilty inside.

John looked up and smiled, his blue eyes glowing like a warm fire which ignited inside Sherlock,

"You're an idiot," John purred, a smirk running across his face, "Of course I'd wanted to say at least something. But now that you don't have to leave, I can say something else..."

He rested his head back on Sherlock's chest, where he could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Hope flared through his veins as his entire world stopped to a complete halt, waiting in anticipation for John to finish his sentence,

"I never said I didn't love you back..."