John can see.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.
Author's note: This is Johnlock, don't like it then don't read it. Please review! This is a one-shot.
Sherlock watched his partner from across the street. John stood chatting with Lestrade about the case or something along those lines. Sherlock and John had been together for nearly a year in a romantic sense, but they had been with each other as flatmates, colleagues and friends for eighteen months.
Sherlock never really had any friends, not in school, not in college or university or any time after that. He'd always been quite a lonely person, not that he minded. Sherlock had been a very independent child and was always distant from emotions because he found that to be a great advantage.
Though he knew a reason for his solitary life was the fact that he genuinely didn't like people, enjoy their company and he had never made an effort to please or befriend them. He'd never wanted friends. He had always been fine on his own.
But another reason that he didn't have friends in the past was because they only saw the bad in him. Nobody ever bothered to look deeper. All they saw was Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, genius, arrogant and unlovable. Nobody even bothered to try and see.
But then John had walked into Saint Bart's and Sherlock had deduced him, like he did to everyone. And he didn't see anger or shock or disgust in John's eyes. No, John looked in awe of Sherlock's ability. He looked completely mesmerised. Of course the first deduction had been very personal, Sherlock had told John all about his medical condition and his life story but John didn't push him away for seeing and saying the truth. And when they were in a cab together John had listened attentively to Sherlock explaining his deductions. Sherlock had waited for the typical "piss off" or "how dare you" but he got "that was extraordinary" and "brilliant".
This admiration never faltered or died off, it was always there. After so long John still found Sherlock to be incredible. Obviously John saw the arrogance and Sherlock's slight sociopathic way of being, but he didn't just presume that that was all there was to Sherlock.
The difference with John is that he can see. Sherlock wasn't sure if maybe it was just John on his own with the ability to delve deeper into Sherlock and see what nobody else could see or if nobody else in all the years Sherlock had been alive had even bothered.
John could see. He saw Sherlock's brilliance, his faults, what makes him great and what makes him good. He can see Sherlock's struggles and what makes him thrive. He can see Sherlock's soul. And Sherlock allowed him to see even more. Sherlock had more than just shown John his heart. He had given John his heart. But he knew John would look after it. John knew it wasn't made of stone, he knew it wasn't ice cold. He knew that Sherlock's heart was completely human.
John loved Sherlock. Sherlock knew this, not only could he deduce it but John told him every day. Sherlock loved John too. Sherlock loved John more than anything.
Sherlock had gone into a daze and was snapped out of it when John's familiar hand slipped into his as he had left Lestrade to come to Sherlock.
"What are you thinking about?" John asked.
Nobody asked Sherlock that because they both didn't want to know and they could also never understand. But John wanted to know and he always understood.
"You, John." Sherlock said honestly.
"Anything good?" John asked.
"Everything good." Sherlock smiled and pressed a kiss to John's lips.
When he pulled away John smiled up at him. The army doctor radiated love, kindness and compassion.
Sherlock smiled back.
"Are we done here?" John asked.
"Yes. Do you want to go back home?" Sherlock asked.
John nodded, waved to Lestrade in a cheery goodbye and then pulled Sherlock towards a cab.
They got in and John's head rested against Sherlock's shoulder in exhaustion. It had been an awfully long but exhilarating case.
"Thank you." Sherlock said.
"What for?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock.
"For looking." Sherlock said.