Trapped in a Downpour
John was standing in a small puddle, focusing on the drips of water running down his hair. He was breathing heavily, attempting to catch his breath. "I must be far enough away." His face dropped from adrenaline into shame. He couldn't believe he had run away from Sherlock! He felt like an idiot, but it was better than seeing his reaction… how could he be so stupid….
15 minutes earlier
John just left his room and searched the kitchen for food, but he could only find a bag of blood and some garlic so he plopped down into his chair. He picked up his laptop and opened up his blog to see how many views it received. Shortly after, Sherlock walked out of his room and stopped right next to john's chair. "Hello John." "Hello She…"Sherlock seemed to have felt the need to show off. "You're going on a date today or at least trying to impress someone at work today. Your shoes are shined and you took time to iron your shirts for a few days, new found romantic interest maybe? No, you don't have work today and you didn't yesterday and we don't have any plans today at least not that I know of. No it's not a date, so who are you trying to impress? There's only one remaining option and that's…" John bit back tears while Sherlock stood in shock. John stood up, grabbed his coat and left the apartment with Sherlock standing in shock in the background. Outside it was raining heavily and to John seemed to fit the mood. He knew he only had so much time before he was found, so he ran though alleyways and streets until he was convinced he wouldn't be found.
Why couldn't Sherlock just keep his big trap shut? John had absolutely NO idea what he was going to do. It seemed this new realization about his feelings about Sherlock only left trails of disaster behind. A silent tear fell. He was never going back to Baker Street. He would move out and never see him again. Why couldn't John be like Sherlock, keeping emotions out of it? If he had, he wouldn't be standing here crying, soaking wet in a downpour. He slid down onto the ground and sat in a puddle. He had failed. Because feelings are for the losing team. It's not like he could ever love him anyways, Sherlock looks at me like another bumbling idiot. But this time he's right. People walking by looked at him with a mixture of pity and pride that they hadn't ended up like that homeless man. John didn't care about how he looked. He wanted to die.
"John?"
Sherlock stared down at the small heap of a man lying at his feet, and felt for the first time, guilt. He hadn't meant to embarrass him, he was just… I don't know, being not…good I suppose.
"Sherlock. Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I won't…"
"John?"
"I'll move out" John choked out
"Shut up."
Sherlock wrapped John into a bear hug, which took John by surprise, but he soon buried his face into his warm dry coat.
"I don't want you to leave me. Ever."
"I don't want to go."
"Good. Well now that that's sorted out… let's head back. I'm wet."
Sherlock and John walked back to 221B Baker Street with John's head on his shoulder not caring about what people would think. It was them against the rest of the world.
