*AU where John never loved Mary but instead had been in a committed relationship with Sherlock instead.*
*Updated for grammar and added detail.*
Sherlock stood up straight with the violin neck held loosely in his hands as he listened out for John's keys unlocking the door, and his feet pattering up the stairs. The violin fell to his side at the sight of John.
"We can talk about this, Sherlock." John pleaded, desperate.
"I didn't need to see the new lock on your phone or the loosened tie, John. I just needed to see your face." Sherlock tightened his grip on the violin. "You cheated on me."
His words were soft, fuelled with nothing but a broken soul and brandy.
"I love you, please!" John shouted, not caring whether or not Ms Hudson could hear them. They had been on rocky ground for weeks but one day Sherlock had verbally mocked John too far, and John stormed from the 221B Baker street and into the rain, hailing the cab that would then take him to the bar where he would then meet his partner for the evening, breaking everything he and Sherlock had created.
"I want you gone." Sherlock raised his voice but his face was unwavering. Tiny flecks of grey littered his hair but his face was as youthful and cold as before he had met John.
"Sherlock-"
"Shut up." Sherlock shouted what might as well have been his catch phrase. "Just shut up, please! I can't listen to this anymore, John."
"We can see a therapist and-"
"Don't insult me, John."
"I'll do anything-"
"Get out." Sherlock continued eye contact, burning John with his vision and raised brow. "And don't come back."
"You can't mean that."
"I think you find that I can, and I do." Sherlock said.
"I made a mistake."
"The only mistake that was made was by my own doing; trusting you." Sherlock said, finally looking away so that John could not see how it was effecting him. "Just please... leave."
"I never thought I could love a man as much as I love you. You are my best friend, Sherlock." John said finally, turning to the door.
"Then tell me why you did it." Sherlock asked in a hushed whisper.
"I don't know, Sherlock. Maybe because I'm stupid." John shouted, quoting one of the names that Sherlock had called him on that fateful night.
"What?"
"You tear me down, Sherlock. All the time." John said in his usual tone.
"That was me being playful." Sherlock argued.
"No, that was you being hurtful!"
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I tried!" John said. "But you're always busy or telling me to shut up. You see everything, Sherlock, but you don't listen."
"Then make me listen!" Sherlock screamed, and in a blind rage he threw his valued violin across the room, smashing into a hundred pieces against the wall.
"What happened," John took a breath. "What I did, I will always be eternally sorry, Sherlock. But the blame is not just mine."
"What did I do then?"
"You never listened to me, Sherlock. You think you know and see everything so you don't listen to me." John argued. "I am not just a pet that follows you around, Sherlock."
"You're my little hedgehog." Sherlock smiled for a brief second before returning to his signature frown that could kill a man at a hundred paces. "You were my little hedgehog."
"Excuse you, I am your little hedgehog. But I am so much more than that, you high-functioning otter." John sighed and sat down, showing that he was not going. "Maybe our relationship wasn't perfect, Sherlock, but we can work on that."
"I was willing to work on it until you came home, to our home, after you cheated on me then tried to deny it." Sherlock moved quickly, grabbing John by his coat and pulling him back up onto his feet. "So get out."
"What about everything we've accomplished?" John begged, eyes starting to water with the realisation of the reality of the situation; he could lose Sherlock for good.
"Then we look back onto them with regret because John, you were the needle that broke the camels back. You were our downfall." Sherlock pointed at John. "You began this relationship knowing what you were getting into with my quirks and you agreed to me none the less. I did not agree for you to run off into the night and break your promise to me."
"I will always love you, Sherlock Holmes." John said.
"Get out!" Sherlock shouted, grabbing him by the torso of his coat and dragging him from the room, slamming the door between them. Sherlock walked slowly back to his seat, stopping briefly for a moment to say a quick prayer for his violin before falling into his chair. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his eyes harshly to try and stop the tears but that is what it had come to. John Watson, possibly the only person Sherlock had ever come to truly love, was gone along with Sherlock's trust.