Watching Over Each Other
**This story picks up right where "In Whose Eyes?" left off. Think of this chapter as the 'next day' in the end of Chapter 30.**
You do Not need to read In Whose Eyes to understand this story.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
The morning light came flooding through the crack between the half-drawn curtains rousing the sleeping men. Today was not a good day for oversleeping, neither men wanted to be late. There would be a lot of grief if they were so.
John stretched and cracked the bones in his spine. Kipping out in his chair was definitely something he would not be doing again anytime soon. "I'm getting far too old for this; I need to sleep in a proper bed and not just flopping down on any random piece of furniture. My neck and back are paying dearly for my laziness." John mumbled to himself.
"I agree, you knew the outcome, but I'm surprised as to why you stayed instead of go up to your room," said the unmistakeable voice filtering out from the blankets piled on the sofa, "It would have been more logical to return upstairs once Mary and Molly went home than stay here in this room. I estimate that about thirty percent of today's conversation from you will some way reflect on your body's pain from not sleeping in its accustomed place. Furthermore, I believe today also will have some very interesting ..."
Sherlock didn't sleep, or at least he didn't think he did. It just so happened that after dinner and playing mindless board games with their friends, he wandered around his Mind Palace carefully filing important information about the past day into their respective Rooms. It was exhausting work so had to take a short break from it. Well, apparently that "short break" turned into all night.
"Yes, thank you Sherlock. I know, my neck is already protesting rather loudly. Trust me, I won't forget this. Please. It's way too early in the morning for this to start. Can't you at least wait till I've had a cuppa before you go off on your ramblings?" John complained massaging his neck as he went to put on the kettle and start breakfast. "Fancy something special to eat this morning, Sherlock?"
Sherlock untangled himself from the mound of blankets and made his way to the window, "No. I ate the other day. Don't you remember how your charming, fiancée and the other two ladies forced some dinner into me last night? They just wouldn't take "No" for an answer. He pouted for a moment letting the sun's rays caress his face. "What time is it?"
Suppose it was just habit that the first thing Sherlock did every morning was too look out and watch London wake up. Ever since a child, Sherlock always looked out the window first thing every single morning. This morning there were people milling around, or rushing off to the office via cab or on foot. John never knew about his habit because the doctor was always up in his room when Sherlock stood at the window or rushing around getting ready for work too busy to notice. "John wouldn't understand, he'd probably laugh at me for being so soft," Sherlock chastised himself. It was a sentimental aspect that he shamefully allowed himself to indulge in. He needed to break that habit; it no longer served any purpose to him. He had been watching London every morning since his arrival to Baker Street years ago to know well the schedule of the people passing by under his window. Watching London wake up was just another thing added to the ever growing list of things he couldn't do that anymore.
Holding his hand out at arms distance the self-proclaimed non-sentimental man could make out a faint outline of it if the room was bright enough. To him, he saw the world as if he had on sunglasses watching an old black and white film on screen in the theatre. It was just enough to distinguish light, darkness, shapes and shadows.
No point crying over it, I'll just find some new hobbies. I've always wanted to become a beekeeper, I could start researching now for it. It's seems enjoyable and something interesting could come from it.
John suppressed a groan and smart remark about not eating properly and how the human body wasn't designed for not eating. It didn't matter; John would get food into his friend. "Just after half seven. By the way, I hope you do KNOW what today is right?" He said poking his head back in the room to find the consulting detective seated in his chair cradling his violin like a guitar softly play a few random chords.
How could I ever forget? It is the biggest day in John's life and that means my life too.
"Yes, I remember," he said plainly.
Waiting for the kettle to boil John rummaged around the cupboards looking for something edible and not infected with one of Sherlock's more questionable experiments.
Today is special, the best day of my life. I will not have him pass out from malnutrition. I will make sure he stands next to me on this important day. Where would I be without him? I don't know honestly. Living off the money from being invalided wouldn't have gotten me much at all. My war wounds might have even progresses worse, who would want to hire me then for anything? A bumbling ex-doctor who stumbles around and can't keep a steady hand. That life seems so depressing; certainly not at all like the exciting life I've had ever since I met him. He cured my wounds and had me trailing after some of the most dangerous men in all of UK. I also wouldn't have met my darling wife-to-be either. I owe him quite a lot, much more than he thinks so.
After much lively discussion and quite some time later, John finally got his flatmate to eat something before going up to dress for the occasion. "Just call me if you need anything, ok?" John called over his shoulder climbing up the steps, he knew today would be wonderful and want his Best Man to enjoy it also.
Sherlock headed to his room and pulled out his "armour". With a sigh he accepted the fact the wedding really was indeed happening, "Right, into battle then," donning on the three-piece suit. Stupid bow tie! I never wear neckties. Why does having to tie a bow make it so complex!? Ok. That's settled. I'm not wearing it.The frustrated man untied the knot he made and just left the neckwear draped limply over his shoulders.
"Ready John?" called Sherlock who was holding his violin case across his lap and drumming his fingers on the armrest. "Yes, just give me a moment to get my shoes." Sherlock could hear the nervous groom scuttle around the flat gathering last minuet possession. His wallet. His phone. The boutonnière and pin...
"Ok. Ready finally. Got everything you need Sherlock?" Came the long-awaited reply. The man nodded and rose clutching the case in his right hand. "Hold up," John brushed his fingers over Sherlock's to let him know where he stood then reached out for the untied bow tie.
"Why is this not tied?"
"Because it didn't want to be," Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.
"Well that's not going to work. It has to be tied. You're not leaving the flat half dressed. Give me your case and tie it."
"No."
"Sherlock," John warned. "Tie it or I will."
One sighed and the other groaned, yet again another little battle over the most trivial matters.
"Fine. Just do it." Sherlock snapped.
With a quick flick of the wrist it into a neat and crisp bow tie.
New note. Date: Wedding day. Fact: John knows how to tie a bow tie properly. File: John Watson. Folder: Habits and Skills. Saved.
"Now we're both properly ready. Let's go!"
John offered his elbow to Sherlock, to which he took, and followed the groom out the door. This is it, my final moments of being a bachelor. When I walk through that door again I will be a married man. My beautiful bride on one side and best friend on the other.
A-N: Thanks for reading. I hope I didn't disappoint you with this new story. Any criticism would be lovely. Chapter 2 is almost done.