"We are here brother." Mycroft Holmes said and his younger sibling looked up from the floor
"Hm?" Sherlock Holmes mused
"We are here." Mycroft repeated and Sherlock looked out of the widow of the black car.
"Oh."
"Good Luck."
"I don't need luck." Sherlock snapped and got out of the car
"I will be here if you need me."
"Why would I need you either?"
"I will still be here."
"Fine." Sherlock glared at Mycroft and entered the fancy restaurant. The waiters opened the door and took his long coat with small smiles, they didn't recognise him. Why would they? Sherlock died, labelled as a fraud. Why would they want to remember a fake dead man?
Sherlock's eyes softened and his thoughts escaped his mind as they lay upon his former flatmate. His shoulders were slumped and he had a silly moustache, but it was him.
It was has flatmate.
It was his friend.
It was his only friend.
It was John Watson.
Sherlock looked at the woman next to his flatmate, it was Mary. Box? Yes…
Sherlock grunted and looked back at John. He was fumbling with something in his pocket and fidgeting. Sherlock concentrated at the object in John's pocket.
Small. Phone?
No, always kept in opposite pocket.
Keys? Smaller.
Gun? Doesn't need it.
Wallet? Much too big…
Reality hit Sherlock like a ton of bricks.
It was a ring box.
John was going to propose.
As soon as he finished the thought John stood up from the table and kneeled in front of Mary, she looked at him in surprise and Sherlock heard the words clearly
"Mary, will you marry me?"
"Yes!" Mary squealed with delight
Sherlock's world came crashing down. John had forgotten about him and moved on. John didn't want Sherlock to be in his life anymore. Sherlock had tears stinging his eyes; John didn't want to know him. Would he care if Sherlock revealed himself? Sherlock grabbed his coat back from the baffled waiter and flew out of the building.
~~~
John Watson smiled as Mary agreed. He heard someone practically leap out of the door and turned to the entrance. He managed to see a black coat and a mop of dark hair leave the building
Sherlock?
John shook his head. That was Ridiculous! It wouldn't be him, however a part of him really wished it was.
~~~~
Sherlock could see Mycroft look up quizzically as he slammed the door shut, entered the car and barked at the driver to leave. There was no point hiding his tear-streaked face because Mycroft would notice.
"What happened?" Mycroft asked in surprise. Sherlock hadn't cried in years. Why start now?
"It's John…" Sherlock said quietly. Right now, he just wanted to be left on his own, but he knew he should explain why he was crying because Mycroft would never press the matter down.
"What wrong?"
"He's moved on! Forgotten about me like all the others!" Sherlock wiped his face and Mycroft leaned a little closer and patted Sherlock's back. Sherlock flinched at his brother's sudden touch but slumped against the door and closed his eyes
"Hush brother. I'm sure John still and always will care for you."
No, Sherlock thought John would never care…
