'Morning' John said tiredly has he dragged his feet into the living room. Sherlock was lying on the sofa in his usual position, hands raised and eyes closed. He didn't even acknowledge John. This hurt him ...a lot. Probably more that it should have. He always does this, why does he have to ignore me? It's same on a case he thought, 'John stand over there' 'move over John' no, thanks John, that's great John.

Watson became very frustrated. 'Oh, Good morning John! How are you?'John put on his best Sherlock impression and mocked him as he poured a cuppa. 'I'm fine Sherlock. What about you?'

'Oh you know, same old. Experimenting here. Experimenting there but above all I'm ignoring you!' he made his way into the living room still mocking Sherlock. 'Because my brain is obviously too big and vast to even talk to a low scale mind as yours!' He placed the tea he made for Sherlock on the coffee table and turned to sit on his chair.

Sherlock opened his eyes and sat up to face John across the room.

'You seem troubled John'

John didn't answer, instead he turned on the tele hoping to block Sherlock out. Two can play at this game.

'Oh that's mature. Turning on the news so you won't have to answer me. How simple, John'

Sherlock thought insulting him would make him talk but John knew that Sherlock would get annoyed just as quickly as he did.

A few moments passed before Sherlock broke the silence.

'John!' he shouted stomping to the opposite chair to Johns. His chair.

John didn't budge, he kept his eyes glued to the TV. Sherlock began tapping his fingers.

'I'm going to get changed' John got up and strolled to his bedroom. He did feel angry despite the little immature game he was playing. Sherlock should at least give him some acknowledgement in the morning. He is his friend after all. John felt both anger and hurt building up, he thought it silly to feel like this over a small thing but it wasn't the first time it had happened. He hated Sherlock ignoring him so lets see how he likes it.

John got ready and went back downstairs, Sherlock was still sitting in his chair so John simply got his coat on and left.

He was out most of the day, working, shopping, talking, anything he could do that wouldn't include him going back to the flat to face Sherlock. He was walking down a random street when his phone beeped.

Why are you ignoring me? - SH

John decided not to answer. He put the phone back in his pocket only to get another message.

JOHN! Tell me! - SH

John decided to be cheeky.

You're the detective, you figure it out - JW

John smiled after feeling slightly childish. Maybe he should just tell him that it hurt to be left out. ..

Okay, you're angry that I didn't answer you this morning but come on John, I was busy - SH

This made John even more angry. How could the great Sherlock Holmes be so clueless to feelings, you would of thought he could have figured out about Johns emotions above anybody else's.

You're an idiot - JW

John found a bench and sat himself down, he figured this conversation wasn't going to end there.

That hurt - SH

Good - JW

There was a few minutes before the next text came.

Please, tell me - SH

Why do you care? - JW

Don't insult me, John. I may not know about the complexity of human emotions but the basics I'm clear on. We're friends, this is what friends do - SH

John didn't know what to put. He didn't know whether to give Sherlock the benefit of the doubt or just let him have it.

I'll get the milk for a week if you tell me - SH

John didn't believe that at all but it gave if the opportunity to express himself.

You always ignore me. This morning just pissed me off. I mean, on a case, I do everything you say, no questions asked. 'go get me this, John' 'go get me that' yet it feels you never actually need me. Sometimes I even question why I bloody stay? What if i leave ay? Seriously, Sherlock, is it that hard to just say ' hi John' ' morning John' ' are you okay?' ' how was your day?' I'm fed up of being used and I'm fed up of coming home to no one who actually gives a shit about what

I've been doing or how I'm feeling. And for all that, milk. Two weeks. - JW

After he sent it, he questioned whether he should have said all that. He read it back and it seemed a little harsh. Oh god, well done John. He waited a while for a text back but after he didn't get one, the thought of going to the nearest pub and getting drunk crept up on him. All he could do was oblige.

The next few hours were a blur. John couldn't remember how his 3rd pint landed in front of him but he didn't complain. All he wanted was to clear his head even if he was drowning in his sorrows at the same time.

His phone buzzed.

Sherlock.

Disappointment covered his face as it saw it wasn't Sherlock but his sister, Harry. Oh god. What does she want?

'Hello' he tried not to slur his words. John wasn't completely took over by drink but he was getting there.

'John' the voice on the other end sounded fragile, weak almost scared.

'Harry? What's wrong?' John immediately recognised the pain in her voice.

'It's dad..'

Johns heart sank, his head started spinning.

'He.. ' Harry started crying, uncontrollably.

'Harry. Tell me' his voice shook.

'He's gone, John. In his sleep..'

Johns eyes filled up.

'Wha- but he was-' he tried to say something.

'I know'

Harry spoke to John for an hour explaining everything. They planned for John to catch a late train so he could be with his family in the morning.

'Okay, I'll be on the midnight train and meet you at home' John explained.

'Yeah. Ill see you there then'

John paused thinking about what he would say next.

'Harry. I love you'

'I know. I love you too' with that she put the phone down.

If Sherlock wasn't a good enough excuse to drink more, this definitely was. Unfortunately for him, he had to go back to the flat to pack.

He dragged his feet up the stairs to 221b hoping not to face Sherlock. If he did he would have to say sorry. He couldn't stand an argument. Not now he's feeling like this.

He turned the handle to the door and slowly walked into the living room to find Sherlock sitting up on the sofa. John glanced at him with watery eyes.

'Sherlock. I need to go away for a few days' John lowered his head fighting back tears.

Sherlock got up and walked over to John closing the gap. He had no idea what Sherlock was doing. He just stood there, glaring at him.

'Do you want me to come with you?' Sherlock asked hesitantly.

John was surprised, did he know? Of course he knew, he's Sherlock Holmes. How? Who told him? Did I tell him without even...

'I'm sorry' Sherlock broke eye contact. Tears were testing Johns eyes, seeing how long he could hold on. He really didn't want to cry in front of his best friend.

'Its okay' John replied.

'No. It's not. I've been an arse. I really am sorry, John'

'Sherlock..'

'Let me finish, please?' John nodded his response. 'I don't know much about erm comforting or being a good friend but I'm willing to try. For you'

John looked up at him. Sherlock suddenly wrapped him up in his long arms. At first, John tensed up but soon relaxed into his friends touch.

He couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He cried into Sherlock's shoulder. The sobs broke Sherlock's heart.

Sherlock let go and put his hands on either side of Johns head. This made John remember the night they had back at the train tracks.

'I think..' Sherlock looked right into his eyes. 'I know that your dad would be so proud of you'

That was it. Tears again broke out. John couldn't control them. They just fell.

'I'm sorry' John said. Sherlock still holding his head. He looked confused.

'What for?'

'This. And the text'

Sherlock lowered his hands. 'There is no reason to be sorry. Crying is the natural response to a situation like this. And I appreciate your honesty. In the text'

There was a pause. John sniffled and raised his head to meet Sherlock's eyes.

'Sherlock' his voice sounded so desperate, so vulnerable. 'I want you to come with me'

'Of course'

Sherlock grabbed him again. This might change things, John thought, Sherlock isn't totally oblivious to emotion or caring.

'Thank you' John tightened his grip around Sherlock.

'John'

John mumbled back in response. Sherlock was circling his hand on Johns back which John liked. Probably too much.

'I don't want you to leave. I mean like forever. I don't want you to go' Sherlock tried to make his voice unreadable of emotion. An attempt that failed. John let go and looked up at him.

'I only said those things cos I was fed up Sherlock'

'Yeah but you meant them'

'I suppose I did yeah. At the time. Ya' know, sometimes I hate this. Sometime I don't think I can do it any more but I'm certain that I will never ever be able to replace this. Any of this. Thats why I stay' he gestures around the room.

'I probably shouldn't be forcing this out of you given the circumstances...'

'It's fine. Really'

'I just don't want to see you unhappy' Sherlock starts to fidget. 'Is there anything I can do?'

'Just be there like you are now. When I need you' John assured.

'I think I can do that'

'I know you can. Now come on. We better pack'

That night they sat together on the train. John's childhood home was just on the outskirts of town so the journey wasn't long. Sherlock didn't know what to do, this wasn't really his area. He knew hugs were good but what next? How was it meant to make things better? Was he meant to make things better?

John was silent on the train, he stared at the window watched the world go by clueless to what was going on in his life. The only thing that distracted him was his phone beeping.

Are you okay? - SH

John chuckled briefly inside. Trust Sherlock to text what he wants to say. He was sitting right opposite him! Sherlock didn't even look at him, he focused on the window instead.

I'm fine – JW

That's all John could manage. He had already cried in front of his best friend, he didn't want to burden him anymore.

I'm sure when someone says they're 'fine' they mean something...else – SH

John didn't know what to put, emotions were running high, he didn't want to say something that would make matters worse. He left it for awhile but he saw Sherlock fidgeting so finally decided to reply.

I'm not okay, I'm going home to bury my father. My heart is broken and I think time is the only way it will heal so don't worry about me, there is nothing you can do – JW

Sherlock felt slightly disappointed. Did John really expect so little of him? For him to just sit back and watch his friend in so much pain?

You can have mine, if you want – SH

Your what? - JW

My heart. I mean, until yours gets fixed. I know it's a pathetic excuse for a substitute but I don't think it's broken. You can have it. I don't know how to use it anyway so it's better off with you, I think – SH

John looked up after he read the last message, he still didn't get any eye contact from Sherlock. That text made him well up, surprisingly. Sherlock was offering his own heart because his was broken. That's.. nice? More than nice..

John again had no idea what to say, it's not like it's the first time Sherlock's left him speechless, so he simply got up and sat next to his friend. There was a long pause before John spoke.

'Thank you' He turned his head to look at Sherlock and smiled.

'Your welcome' Sherlock returned the smile.

'I don't think I could take your heart though' Sherlock's face dropped. 'And I think you do know how to use it'

Sherlock gave him a blank look. 'Don't give me that look' John laughed. 'You've been using it'

'When?' Sherlock did look a sight, all confused like that.

'Just now and before. You've been using your heart on me, being there for me, hugging me, comforting me..' What is this? John thought. He's his friend and he has John speaking like this? 'And you're pretty good at it actually' John smiled again. Sherlock soon broke into a grin too. He felt he'd done something right which made him feel very very good.

'Thanks. I had a great teacher' They both laughed at each other. John thought this was nice, he knew he wouldn't be laughing for the next few days at home so it was good to do it now. With Sherlock there.

The next few days were horrible for John and it was making Sherlock angry. Angry at the world. Why does it have to happen to him? When they turned up at John's old home, Sherlock could see that the house was a mirror image of John. A reflection of his personality. Everything down to the furniture had Watson all over it. It was nice, Sherlock thought, warm and cosy, not something he'd usually go for but it made John happy.

'Mum' John hugged her. His mum looked destroyed. She had lost her husband, the father of her children and the only man she had ever loved with her whole heart. Will I feel like that? If John... Sherlock was interrupted.

'This is Sherlock, my flatmate and friend' Sherlock offered his hand.

'I really am sorry' Sherlock tried to offer his condolences.

'Thank you and thank you for being here, for John' She smiled. Then John, Harry and their Mother went into the kitchen so Sherlock waited outside in the dark sky whilst John spoke to his mother and sister. He heard them crying and it tug at his heart. He would never have felt this before he met John. Was it a good thing? And since when has he felt more for John?

It was 5am when John came out and said that they were going to stay at a hotel not far from his home. He mentioned that it was too hard staying here, his mum and his sister understood. On the way over, John had told Sherlock that the funeral was going to be as soon as possible for reasons unknown to him but his mum had insisted.

They shared a room, two beds of course, John felt he needed somewhere near. Sherlock just nodded trying to understand. They settled down at half 7 am for a couple of hours sleep.

Unfortunately for John, Sherlock couldn't sleep and started pacing the room.

'Sherlock..' John raised his sleepy head.

'Sorry' Sherlock stopped pacing.

'What's wrong?' Watson got out his covers and sat on the end of his bed watching Sherlock.

'Nothing' He quickly replied.

'Tell me'

'I'm just.. angry'

'What at?

'This bloody world!' He shouted.

'Sherlock...'

'No. It isn't fair! Why did this goddamit planet do this to you? How can it offer so much good and take it away?' Sherlock's eyes hurt as he sat down on a chair in the hotel room, near the window.

John was surprised, maybe Sherlock had never lost anyone close to him. Death of loved one would seem unfair to him.

'Sherlock?' John got up to walk over to his friend. 'Are you crying?'

'No' He replied hiding his tears.

'You really shouldn't get worked up over this, okay?' He put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. 'haven't you ever...lost anybody?'

Sherlock looked up at him with those pale blue eyes now turned a hint of red from tears. 'I never..' Sherlock broke down and starting crying properly. He held his head in his hands.

'Sssh, it's okay' John comforted.

'Nobody cared for me, so I was never scared of losing them and they were never frightened of losing me' Sherlock said through a broken voice. John pulled up a chair to sit opposite his friend. He grabbed his hand.

'Listen to me. This happens, okay? People go and there is nothing we can do about it'

'But why did it have to be someone you loved? Why couldn't it be someone I knew?' Sherlock sobbed.

'Is this what this is about? You didn't want me to be hurt' John felt like he was talking to a child. He felt sorry for him because he never had anyone to explain to him about losing someone. Maybe that's why he's so detached from the cases. But it was sweet, that he cared for John so much. Sherlock only nodded in response.

'Come here' John hugged him tightly. It made him feel better, knowing that he was helping Sherlock after he had helped me. They needed each other right now. They both were experiencing pain even if John was more accustomed to it.

They stayed pretty close together for the next couple of days leading up to the funeral. It was raining when they buried John's Dad.

They stood in a line, his mother, Harry, John and then Sherlock. There were maybe a hundred more people surrounding them. It was a nice send-off, if a send-off like this could ever be nice.

Sherlock saw John's face and it broke him, he was going to make sure that John never looked like that again. His eyes were puffy and red and his hair drenched from the rain. Sherlock offered him a umbrella but John said no, he wanted to feel it.

John felt Sherlock next to him and it was helping. As the priest read a prayer, his heart started to sink. Oh god it was hard. He was dreading the next bit, were he had to speak. He stayed where he was, close to Sherlock and his family whilst he spoke the last words.

My Dad was amazing. Is. Is amazing. He was always there for us. Always.

I can't remember a day where he wasn't. He loved us with all his heart.

I hope I did you proud, Dad.

You shouldn't have -it wasn't your time. I won't say goodbye because that means it's forever so

for now, I will miss you. We all will miss you and I will never, ever forget you.

Tears were falling down his face. Sherlock grabbed his hand.

I love you.

After the event, the rain poured even harder as people drifted off to their cars, Sherlock stood under a tree as John say his thankyou's and goodbyes to everyone who came.

He began to think about him and John. Whatever they had it was...it was brilliant. But what is it?

After a while, John saw Sherlock standing on his own and went over to him.

'Hey'

'Hello'

'Thanks for the past couple of days'

'No problem. You would do the same'

John smiled. 'Well I think we should set off then' He turned to walk away.

'John' Sherlock grabbed his arm. John glanced at the hand then to Sherlock's face. 'I think- I mean, I think I know. No that isn't right. I know, for certain, almost. No I definitely know that –'

'I know' John smirked, reading his mind.

'You do?' Sherlock looked surprised.

'Yeah and you know I do'

'I do'

'Right, so there you go. We love each other, now lets go home'