Early on a Friday morning, barely two weeks after his Christmas day reconciliation with his pregnant wife; John Watson's life unexpectedly changes again.
He's on his way to the clinic where he works, when he realizes that he's forgotten the keys to the drug cabinet.
Now normally this would not be an issue; he would just borrow one of his colleague's set of keys. Unfortunately for John, both of the other regular clinic doctors have called in sick and this is in fact the very reason he has agreed to a double shift in the first place.
Cursing under his breath, he quickly dials Mary's phone to ask if she can drop them off on her way to her appointment with her obstetrician.
When he fails to get through to her he scowls at his phone and grits his teeth.
Forcing the little voice in the back of his head down (the one that lately always seems suspicious of Mary's actions) he sighs and rings the bell for the next stop.
John wishes he could stop thinking this way. He wants to put his suspicion and distrust of his wife away. He needs to find a way to love her again; or at the very least be able to tolerate this marriage that he chose.
He has a child coming, he reminds himself. He's going to be a father and no matter what he feels or who he feels it for, that fact is something he cannot ever forget.
He jerks out of that particular train of thought as the bus pulls up to the next stop.
Crossing the road to catch another back to his and Mary's flat, John tries very hard to keep his thoughts from wandering to places he doesn't want them to go.
But of course, as soon as he finds himself sitting down to gaze out the window on the homeward bound bus, his mind does exactly that.
It doesn't matter how many times he's gone over it in his head; he still can't understand why Sherlock has gone to so much trouble to make sure that John and Mary stay together. And yes, he knows Sherlock loves him in his own way; he'd more or less confessed that very thing at John's wedding.
What John doesn't understand, is why Sherlock hasn't taken everything that has happened and used it to convince John to come back to Baker Street permanently.
The Sherlock of old had delighted in ruining John's relationships. Demanding and petulant at the best of times, Sherlock had hated it when John was not available to him at the drop of a text; having a girlfriend (as far as Sherlock was concerned) was just another distraction from the all important Work.
And yes; John has to admit that Sherlock has changed. He seems more thoughtful and quieter than the man who jumped from Bart's. More prone to stop and think before speaking his mind. Well, at least when it came to the people closest to him.
To be truthful, it's bothered John more than a little that ever since he'd become engaged to Mary, Sherlock had seemed to become distant in a way he'd never been when they had lived together.
Then of course Mary had shot Sherlock and John's world had abruptly folded, scattering and falling apart like the precarious house of cards that it was.
The life changing epiphany had followed shortly thereafter.
It was in the ambulance on the way to the hospital that it had finally hit home that the man whose blood he was currently wearing; was undisputedly the most important person in his life. That in fact he'd made a dreadful and irredeemable mistake in marrying Mary, when it was obviously Sherlock who was the centre of John's world and always would be.
Of course he'd tried to bury said epiphany under his panicked worry for Sherlock's life. Telling himself later that it was only because he was so afraid he was going to lose him for a second time. He tried to convince himself that the attraction that he'd felt for Sherlock nearly right from the start, had been put aside years ago and that he wasn't gay anyway; that he loved his wife. He reasoned that he loved Sherlock like nobody else he'd ever known; simply because he was like no one else he had ever known.
And at the time he'd thought he'd managed it. He thought he'd got it all under control. But of course all that was before he found out that it was Mary who had pulled the trigger.
Finding out that Mary had been the one to shoot Sherlock, was the most bizarre experience of his life, for more than one reason.
Firstly, the fact that his wife had been the one to shoot Sherlock had made him more coldly furious than he'd ever been. And it was also the final nail in the coffin of his denial. That had been a real eye opener.
Bad metaphor's aside, John knew that what he was feeling was a little off, some might even term it 'a bit not good, but that wouldn't occur to him until well after the second ambulance ride.
He'd understood on some level; that from the moment he stood up from the chair in Lannister Gardens that the rage he felt, far outweighed the upset and betrayal that he should have been feeling. It just hadn't occurred to him to ask himself why at the time.
Why, Instead of the Lovely warm woman that he had married, John saw only an adversary that had very nearly taken Sherlock from him. Why, instead of being broken hearted over the lie's Mary had obviously told him. He instead found himself angry at
Sherlock's defence of her and hurt by his accusation that John had seen something in her that called to his need for danger.
Instead of being devastated by her betrayal; John found himself aggravated that even with a bullet in him, Sherlock was acting like he and Mary were the best of friends. That everything that had just gone to shit in John's life was merely an inconvenience. A misunderstanding; easily sorted with a chat and a nice warm cuppa. And it burned him to admit it, but part of that was his jealousy of the way that Sherlock had treated her right from the start.
While temporarily back at Baker Street in the months after Sherlock was released from hospital, he'd had time to go over everything that had occurred to him that horrible night; from every possible angle. More than enough time to turn over and examine his thoughts and reactions and to admit (at least to himself) that he really had rather managed to muck up his life.
It was Sherlocks' continued intent to forgive and forget and his encouragement for John to do the same that had finally made John admit what he hadn't wanted to.
John did not want to forgive her, because he loved Sherlock more than he'd ever loved her and not even the baby she was carrying could change the way he felt.
That of course led to the realization that if what he'd felt for Mary was obviously not unconditional, then he'd clearly married her for all the wrong reasons.
So John had sat down and taken a good long hard look at himself and asked what had attracted him to Mary Morstan in the first place. Had he subconsciously seen something beyond what was on the surface? Was Sherlock right?
It had taken him some heavy soul searching and repeated combing over his memories of his and Mary's every interaction, but in the end John was relieved to find that for once in his life, it seemed that Sherlock Holmes had got something wrong.
John knew that he loved the thrill of dangerous things; that he was at his most alive when his heart pounded with the thrill of the chase. He'd been barely coping with his life when he'd first stumbled into Sherlock's world and for the eighteen months that they'd lived together, he'd never felt more needed or more alive.
But then Sherlock had jumped from the roof at Bart's and John's world had imploded.
Losing Sherlock was the hardest thing John had ever had to endure and it had taken until his relationship with Mary, for John to finally start to except that Sherlock was really gone.
John had known somewhere deep down inside, that what he'd felt for Sherlock Holmes far exceeded the emotions that one felt for a flatmate, or even a best friend. But after Sherlock jumped, John had deliberately shut away all the what if's and might have beens. His grief over Sherlocks' loss was already overwhelming. How much worse would it have become, if he'd dragged out all the confused desires and regrets that he'd kept hidden from both himself and Sherlock.
So aside from his one lonely emotional outburst at Sherlocks' grave, John did the only thing he could do to get through his loss. He took a leaf out of Sherlocks' book and tried to delete everything that wasn't about his respect and friendship for the other man.
Of course; Sherlock could have told him that feelings were the one thing that could never be deleted. Still; John somehow managed to get through the following years without thinking about what he'd buried. The constant guilt over Sherlocks' death more than enough to keep him from searching for reasons to feel worse. And by the time Mary had come in to his life, Johns' walls of self denial were firmly set.
Looking back as he sat on the bus, he remembered how grateful he'd felt for her undemanding company; how lovely it had been to be with someone who didn't pry or ask questions about the famous detective.
And it also didn't hurt, that her irreverent and often slightly off sense of humour had kept John amused in a way he hadn't felt since giggling at crime scenes with Sherlock.
Ultimately what started out as gratitude had slowly blossomed into a warm and comfortable love. And John found himself thinking less about the grief of Sherlocks loss and more about the good times that he had spent with the other man.
Eventually opening up and telling Mary about Sherlock, had seemed to be the last missing piece in his long process of grieving. He'd thought that he'd finally reached the stage of acceptance; that his grief, if not completely gone, was at last becoming bearable.
In the month that led up to his proposal to Mary, John found himself feeling lighter than he had in years.
Then in one fell swoop, it had all came apart with the return of Sherlock Holmes.
The rage and hurt he'd felt at Sherlocks deception, was outside of any experience that he'd ever had. Never in his life had he been so torn apart by his own emotions. Grief he'd dealt with and understood; it was a natural part of losing a loved one. But John had no frame of reference for any of his emotional responses to Sherlocks return.
It was the most confusing time of his life.
On the one hand; he hated Sherlock for letting him grieve and lying to him for all the time he'd been absent. But on the other he was fiercely joyful that his friend had returned. Then there was the agonizing knowledge, that Sherlock hadn't cared enough for him to realize what his death might do to the only friend he had. And then there was his rage at the blithe and thoughtless way he'd reappeared; just when John had finally got his life to a point where moving on didn't feel like a betrayal.
His physical need to hurt Sherlock had shocked even himself and the fact that the urge was still there weeks later had troubled John, more than he cared to admit.
But when it really came down to it the thing that John really couldn't deal with; was the absolute cloying sense of sadness and disappointment that he experienced every time he thought of how easy it had been for Sherlock to just walk away from their life.
Even though he'd forgiven Sherlock by the time the wedding happened, it still didn't change his wariness of the other man and if he was being honest with himself, it wasn't until his best man speech that John had even stopped to consider that Sherlocks feelings might be a lot more complicated than John had given him credit for.
And of course, by then it was far too late.
And now he'd circled back around to the beginning.
He was going to be a father and his wife was a lying former assassin who he didn't trust. And to top it off, he was pretty sure he was in love with his best friend; the friend that had done everything in his power; up to and including murder, to ensure his marriage to said lying assassin could continue.
What was his life?
There had been a moment at his wedding just after Sherlock had played the violin piece he'd written, where for a brief instant he'd thought he'd seen something in Sherlocks expression. A sadness and longing, which had made John's heart, leap in his chest. But when Sherlock had urged him and Mary to take to the dance floor only moments later, John told himself he was imagining things. And when Sherlock had grinned at his joke, John deliberately pushed the incident out of his mind, all the while berating himself for clearly drinking far too much champagne.
All this time later and even after everything Sherlock had done for him, John still couldn't bring himself to think about the expression he thought he'd seen on Sherlock's face the night of Johns wedding.
Because even though Sherlock undoubtedly loved John Watson, John knew that the love he felt for Sherlock Holmes was decidedly not the platonic love that Sherlock felt for him.
In the months after Sherlocks shooting there was a part of John that had watched and hoped (largely fueled by that one longing look?) that perhaps, now that John had moved back to Baker Street, Sherlock might show that his feelings went beyond the friendship they had known before Sherlocks fall.
John's hopes were quickly dashed however, when Sherlock continually encouraged John to forgive Mary, even going so far as to tell John, that once John was back with her he would remember how much he loved her and be able to put everything else behind them.
No. It was very clear to John that as much as Sherlock valued his friendship and enjoyed his company, he was very not interested in John being more than that.
Sherlock had said right from the start that he was Married to his work and the relationships were not his area, so John had no one else but himself to blame if he'd gotten his hopes up.
He'd managed to live with Sherlock for eighteen months; successfully lying to himself and everyone in his life about his feelings. Now with one look, that was most likely deeply buried wishful thinking on John's part, he couldn't hold back everything he'd managed to suppress for well over four years.
So now he was stuck in a marriage that he resented with a woman he no longer trusted and about to become a father to a child he wasn't even sure he wanted.
The last was the part was the thing that troubled him the most, if he was being honest. After all, it wasn't the child's fault; she had no say in her conception and the fact that her parents' marriage was less than ideal, was in no way her responsibility.
Unfortunately it did.
He'd tried to be excited about becoming a father; something he'd never given much thought to before his wedding. But the shameful truth was that his daughter hadn't even been born yet and he was already worried that she was the only thing that was keeping him in his marriage. Along with that came the fear that he would end up like his own father; resenting her because of that very same fact.
Sometimes he felt just like the mice Sherlock used in his experiments. It was like he was trapped in a maze and every time he thought he'd found a clear path, it suddenly closed, leaving him breathless claustrophobic and unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Shaking his head to clear his troubled thoughts, John rubbed at his eyes and tried to focus on the world outside the windows of the bus and the distance he'd left to travel.
He was surprised to see that he was only a stop away from the flat that he and Mary shared and at the same time, troubled by the thought that even now he still didn't think of the flat as home.
Opening the door to the flat he called out Mary's name on the oft chance she hadn't left for her appointment. When she didn't answer he found himself once again wondering why she'd failed to answer her phone when she was so quick to always insist that he make sure his phone was charged and on him in at all times.
Shrugging off his useless pondering, John moved to the bedroom and retrieved the forgotten keys.
He'd just slid the draw shut and was in the process of pocketing the keys, when the distinctive chime of Mary's phone rang out indicating that she had a text.
Trying not to grind his teeth in resentment, John did his best not to think about how angry she would have been if it was him that had forgotten his phone.
Entering the bathroom he spotted his wife's phone half covered by a hand towel on the basin.
She'd obviously been in a rush to get to her appointment and somehow managed to miss the fact that her phone had been left behind.
It wasn't that surprising when he thought about it. Mary made a point of never taking her phone into the loo, not after an incident years ago that involved soap in the eyes and a full sink of water.
Then there was the whole pregnancy brain thing that he was not allowed to bring up; under pain of sleeping on the couch. She'd really gone off the one time he'd mentioned it just after they'd confirmed the pregnancy and he'd been wary ever since. Though these days, sleeping on the couch seemed a lot more attractive than it should have been.
Picking up her phone he couldn't help glancing at the text alert icon.
The John Watson that had married Mary Morstan would never have dreamed of violating his wife's privacy.
But now as John studied the phone in his hand, it was the John Watson that was married to someone who's initials AGRA were the only real truth he knew about the woman he'd wed. And that John (The one that Sherlock would have recognized) decided it was time he did a little snooping for his own piece of mind if nothing else.
He'd been honest with Mary when He'd thrown the usb into the fire that day at Sherlock's parents, but that was before Sherlock had shot Magnusson to protect Mary. Before he'd realized that the woman he'd married, didn't have one ounce of gratitude in her for all the things Sherlock had done to preserve her marriage and quite possibly her freedom.
She hadn't even thanked him that day at the airfield and had instead seemed rather annoyed when he was recalled barely minutes into his flight. A flight that would have led to what Mycroft termed as a lengthy and difficult mission.
With Moriarty's supposed return he'd hardly seen Sherlock since that day, but it still hadn't stopped Mary from making several careless and offhand remarks about cats with nine lives and Sherlock having the luck of the devil.
Her comments at the time had sent a fission of something very like dread up his spine, but she'd quickly laughed it off when John asked her what she meant. Then she'd changed the subject and John had been left with the feeling that somehow he'd missed something important, but he couldn't for the life of him work out what.
So yeah, maybe he'd been too quick to dismiss who'd she'd been. Too quick to destroy the only real truth that she had ever offered willingly.
Seconds later John found himself sitting dazedly on the edge of his bed with no memory of walking from bath to bedroom.
Mary's mobile phone was clutched in his hand, the knuckles of which were white from the force of pressure that he was holding on to it with.
He stared down at the text on the small screen and tried very hard not to throw it at the nearest wall.
My darling Mary
Boss unhappy
with ur handling of Sherlock's pet
marriage should b terminated by now
Magnusson no longer a threat
past time u came in.
Watson outlived usefulness
do what you were paid to do.
I good girl
boss might let you live
after the kid is born.
If Holmes's find out identity of brat
before the time is right
boss will make ur skin=shoes
get a move on and end ur marriage
right the fuck now
Cheers David
Seconds later a second text came in.
Ps Dnt think of running.
Sherlocks kid important
U R expendable
