When I came back to Baker Street, I assumed that John would welcome me back with open arms. Things would return to normal, and I would have my best friend by my side once again. I wasn't expecting his rage. I wasn't expecting that absurd mustache, and I definitely wasn't expecting her. Mary Morstan was the last thing I had planned on discovering.
Relationships had always been a mystery to me. I'd never even had a crush on someone before. I couldn't bear to even consider being that vulnerable. It wasn't logical. The statistics overwhelmingly show that most love dies. I swore I would never fall in love. I would not let my heart belong to anyone but myself. My thoughts on the subject never wavered for many years. Then I met John.
When I was with him I felt something unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. My cheeks would flush, and my heart would skip a beat. Warmth spread through my body when he was near, and my fingers would tingle when his hand brushed against mine. What was wrong with me? I searched my mind palace relentlessly for a way to stop these feelings.
I knew he reciprocated the feelings. It wasn't hard to deduce. I just couldn't give in to my feelings. If we broke up, that would be the end of our adventures. I couldn't bear to lose him, so we remained friends. I never let on that I knew his secret. I was the only man he had ever fallen for.
When I faked my death, it nearly destroyed him. I watched him stand at my grave and beg for one more miracle. He begged for me not to be dead. It took every ounce of strength I had not to run over to him and pull him into my embrace. I wanted to wipe away his tears and tell him that it was ok, but I had to protect him. With tears slipping down my face, I walked away. I didn't see him again until two years later.
After I had disabled Moriarty's networks, Mycroft brought me back to London. When you are chasing down criminals undercover and isolated in a foreign country, it changes you. I realized something over those two years. The feelings I had for John weren't just a silly crush. I loved him. I truly loved him. I couldn't let the chance to love him pass me by any longer, no matter what the risks were.
After I had walked into Baker Street, I cleaned up the place. It had to presentable for John. After our reunion, I was going to ask him to be my boyfriend. I'd never felt that nervous in my entire life. I had to be creative with how I revealed to John that I was still alive. He was going to be thrilled!
He had reservations at a restaurant that night, and I had disguised myself as a bad French waiter. Not my cleverest disguise, but it did the job. He was having dinner with a woman. I wasn't concerned though. They were probably on a first date. After I had asked John to be with me, she would be out of the picture. When I revealed my identity he was in shock. His shock quickly turned to anger though, and he lunged at me.
As I was cleaning up the blood trickling down my nose, I explained to him why I couldn't let him know that I was alive. I apologized for causing him so much grief. He didn't want to hear it though. After further deductions, I realized that this had been a long term relationship between the two of them. It wouldn't last though. It couldn't, could it? Then I noticed the slight bulge in his jacket pocket. It was a ring box. He was going to propose to her tonight.
My chest began to ache. During my absence, he had moved on. He loved Mary. I could tell that they were a great match. She made him happy. Mary assured me that John would come around to me being back, and I forced a smile.
As soon as I had arrived back at my flat, I sunk to the ground and sobbed. I had lost my chance with John. I wasted so much time hiding my feelings. I should have been honest from the start. Maybe if I had, I would be the one he was proposing to tonight. Then we would go home and curl up in bed together. He would whisper goodnight and softly kiss me. Then, he would gently sift his fingers through my curls, and we'd make love.
That's not how things are though. Instead, I'm a virgin who's never been kissed, and he's found the woman of his dreams. Even though my heart was breaking, I knew that if he would forgive me, I would still be his friend. Heck, I would help plan the wedding even. He's my best friend. If Mary makes him happy, then I will never come between them. I want John to be happy, even if it means never getting the chance to tell him how I really feel about him.
John did let me back into his life. He even asked me to be his best man. At the wedding dance, I glanced at them dancing from across the room. It hurt too much to stay the whole night, so I left early. I walked back to 221B Baker Street and pulled out a cigarette. I hadn't had one in two years, but nothing else would ease the pain. I lit it up and took a long drag as I choked back tears. John Hamish Watson was, and will always be, my only love.