A/N: AAAHHH, I FINISHED THIS MUCH FASTER THAN I THOUGH I WOULD! It just kind of, spewed out into this angsty, wonderful mess I call chapter two. AND I LOVE IT. I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL DO.
"Sherlock, are you going to sit there all day or were planning on actually doing something productive?" John demanded as he tore through the flat looking for his wallet. I knew exactly where it was, wedged between the cushion of my chair, which I was currently sitting in.
"Mmm?" John paused to glare at me.
"I know you heard me."
"There's nothing to do, and please don't suggest chores, you know it's useless." I drawled.
"Well, you could always come out with us, if you wanted." John said quietly while continuing his search. I snorted.
"Go with you and Mary out to dinner? Please John, I don't think any of us would find that enjoyable in the slightest."
"I was only trying to be nice."
"Don't, you know it irritates me." John sighed heavily and just stood in the middle of the living room, letting his eyes roam all around the place as if as if he were hoping his wallet would magically appear.
"Well, doesn't seem we'll be going anywhere if I can't find my bloody wallet." John muttered, running a hand through his hair. I watched him steadily as he struggled with the "mystery" of his missing wallet.
"Check upstairs again." I said heavily, picking at the leather of my chair.
"But, oh fine." John tromped out of the room and upstairs. I smiled slightly and unearthed his wallet from beneath me. Five minutes later when he came down, I handed him it to him. He gaped at it for a moment before taking it.
"Thanks, but where did you-?"
"You're going to be late. Go." I said, picking up my violin. John checked his watch and swore under his breath, making his way to the door. Before shutting the it behind him, he poked his head back inside and stared at me sheepishly for a moment.
"You sure you're going to be alright, here? By yourself?" John inquired, licking his lips nervously. I nodded and started playing. I heard him leave with a sigh, clearly disappointed with my lack of communication. Good.
A few weeks had passed since John's little confession. When he finally returned, (clearly having spent the night at Mary's for obvious reasons), I decided it was best to ignore what had happened and continue to go about our lives as we had before. But John was making that increasingly more difficult with each passing day.
Every few days or so he would ask me if I wanted to talk about anything, meaning, if I wanted to talk about our past conversation. Every time I refused, (both in a polite and snide manner depending on my mood and the amount of times John asked me within a single week), he would become, tense and start cleaning things in the flat that didn't need cleaning. Or he would make a cup of tea, sit in his chair for a moment and watch me for some time without drinking his tea, then get up and dump the brew in the sink. It was becoming tiresome. All that pent up emotion he was harboring was affecting how we went on with our daily routines. I was waiting for the day when he would finally burst and force me to have the conversation. I preferred that much more than all this poking and prodding he was doing.
It also didn't help that he was spending an excessive amount of time with Mary, which I suppose wasn't a surprise, but that didn't mean I had to like it. You may say that I was being rather childish about the entire matter, and maybe I was, but I was quickly losing my one and only companion and that was something that I could not take lightly. I had to figure out a way to loosen Mary's grip on John, or John's obsession with Mary, without bruising or breaking our relationship. Or at least, what was left of it.
John returned later that night, which was surprising seeing as he normally spent the night at Mary's after a night out. There must have been a fight, and judging by the irritated look John gave me as he headed to the kitchen, it had been about me. This made me smile.
"What're you smiling about? New case?" John said half-hopeful. I shrugged and looked away.
"Nothing. How was your date?"
"Oh, don't pretend you don't already know. Go on then, tell me everything that went wrong." John snapped bitterly.
"You had a fight."
"Yeah, and?"
"It concerned me."
"How can you tell?"
"I just can." John pursed his lips together, his breathing deep, attempting to calm himself.
"You know, things could be much easier if you just, weren't such a bloody prick all the time." John said angrily after a moment. I raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, so you're going take this out me now, are you? Hmm, very helpful." My sarcasm rolled of every word.
"Shut up Sherlock. I'm not in the mood right now."
"What did you talk about with Mary?"
"None of your business."
"It is if you were talking about me, which you were."
"No, I never sai-"
"Yes you did and don't pretend that you didn't." I snapped. "Now tell me, what is it that got you so riled up? Hmm? My dislike for your girlfriend? My lack of cooperation in the entire matter? Because, I assure you, none of that is going to change, no matter what you do."
"Damn it Sherlock! Of all the women to be making a fuss about, why does it have to be Mary?!" John shouted, pounding his fist against the kitchen table.
"What do you mean?" I asked calmly. This seemed to infuriate him further.
"I mean, Sherlock, that, Mary could very well be the one for me-"
"I've heard that before."
"And so far," John continued as if he hadn't heard me. "You've managed to be at your absolute worst wherever it concerns her. I just don't understand it! Don't you want me to be happy?" This last sentence caught me by surprise. Wasn't he happy by my side?
"John, I-"
"No, Sherlock don't even bother. I don't want to hear it." I stared at John, utterly dumbstruck, (which was something that I hardly ever became).
"John," I started after a moment. When John didn't interrupt me, I continued. "I value your friendship, and happiness, a great deal more than you probably realized." I said, barely above a whisper. I could hear John going over my words in his head.
"What is that supposed to mean?" John said carefully. I looked up at John, and meeting eye to eye, I proceeded into dangerous waters.
"It means that, as our separation becomes more distinct, I shall be, alone." The silence that followed those words cut at me, throwing back in my face those idiotic words I had just unleashed.
"So, you don't want me to be with Mary, to be happy, because you'll be alone?" John said, his words sharp and lashing.
"You know what, forget everything that I said. I'm going to my room." I said, moving to stand.
"No, stay where you are." I did as I was told, for fear something would go terribly wrong if I didn't. "You'd jeopardize my happiness, for the sake of your own?"
"Do not put words into my mouth John." I growled, standing slowly. "You misunderstood me completely."
"Then explain to me exactly what you mean by that." I sighed and turned my body partially away from John.
"I'm not very well liked John, you know this. Not that I mind really, but still."
"Yes, I am very aware of this fact Sherlock."
"Then you know that when you go off on your own, enjoying your new life, I will still continue as I am, as I always will be."
"So? What about before I came along? You got on just fine then." This ignited in me something foreign and unwanted. Loneliness and hurt, two vile creatures of the heart.
"That's not the point John!" I snarled, turning to face him now, my heartbeat quickening. "The point is, I don't want to go back to that! To before I met you! Can't you see that John? Can't you see what you've done to me? You've changed me in such a way that I can never go back! And for that I curse you!" I nearly howled, and when those words left my lips, I felt a horrible and most sickening shame wash over me like scalding oil. It seemed my plan was now dead in the water.
John just stared at me, his face a mixture of shock and what seemed to be embarrassment. When he didn't say anything, I straightened and wiped my face clean of any emotion, reverting back to my old, cold self.
"So, you see, that is why I can't stand to see you move on. Because I cannot." I grabbed my coat and scarf and left the flat without another word, feeling John's confusion coming off in waves that sent terrible shivers down my spine and chilled me to the bone.
I had most assuredly ruined everything that I worked hard to keep whole, and there was only myself to blame for that.
A/N: WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?! WHO KNOWS? I am so excited about this fic guys, it's just, wow. I may finish this in record time. I love with a deep and fiery passion. Thanks for reading!