I'll Find You Again

by A Sherlocked Girl

Sherlock is leaving London on Christmas Eve. On 23rd he received a text from an unknown number, someone called JW. He knows he should ignore the text but will he? Hi guys, this work has been published on AO3 and maybe some of you have read it already. It's the first part of a Trilogy. First two part has been completed. If you like the story then please let me know.

2. Chapter 2

The next morning John woke up with a happy feeling and realized that the reason behind it was one Sherlock Holmes. He instantly reached for his phone on the bedside table to check the texts. There were 2 from Harry; she left them before leaving the flat for work or whatever she was doing and none from Sherlock, unsurprisingly. John debated whether to send him a text but decided against it. Sherlock didn't seem keen as he was to continue the chatting; John was still a stranger after all.

John got up from bed and went to the toilet to complete his morning necessities. He was staying with Harry and Jesus, the whole flat was a mess. He didn't have the energy to clean up but he had to, it was Christmas Eve, after all. John's brain jerked up from its sleep-addled state at this thought. He hadn't bought anything for Harry and he still needed to find Mike. He realized he had a long day ahead.

When he was in the cab he succumbed to his instinct and decided to send Sherlock a text. The worse which could happen was that either Sherlock would not respond or would tell him to bugger off but then at least his fiddling with his phone would stop. God, this was embarrassing.

"Good morning J -JW"

Almost fifteen minutes later the answer came when John was just about to enter a gift shop. He stopped short and quickly pulled out his phone.

"I am afraid I do not follow your observation. It is just a normal morbid snowy morning, nothing good or special about it. –SH"

John barked out a laugh and entered the shop. It was a Chinese Feng Shui shop. Harry seemed to believe in these kinds of things, not that he judged her or anything but he was opposed to the idea that Harry thought some amulets could make her relation with her girlfriends alright. She never blamed her alcoholism; it was either their dead parents or fake amulets or John's enlisting or the world in general. John loved her elder sister, he really did but spending a week with her was more hectic than invading a foreign land. John felt pity for Clara, Harry's current girlfriend.

John's mobile chimed again. A new text from Sherlock. He opened it and smiled broadly.

"Good morning to you too, John. –SH"

"Want a Lucky Cat for Christmas? –JW"

"What in God's name is a Lucky Cat? –SH"

"A golden Feng Shui cat which wanders off evil. It looks a bit like you :p –JW"

"Another failed attempt to be funny. People who know me might be in want for that cat though. And I can assure you I look nothing like a cat, especially a golden lucky cat. –SH"

"People who know you will need that cat? Are you implying that I should not talk to you anymore? –JW"

"I didn't say that. I just meant, well, I am not good with people, that's all. –SH"

The reply came too quickly. John was just teasing Sherlock but he realized that Sherlock actually wanted to talk to him and it made him immensely happy. He left the store and started to walk towards Mike's flat; John hoped Mike still lived there. A text came meanwhile.

"Did you buy the cat? –SH"

"Nope. Decided to keep you instead. I love evil people. Brilliant, charming and evil, that's my ideal. –JW"

"So it seems. –SH"

John smirked at that. He had reached Mike's flat but he wasn't home. John took Mike's number from his landlord and headed back towards Harry's flat.

"So, what's your plan for Christmas? –JW"

"Nothing. May be some tedious family dinner. You have plans I presume? –SH"

"I have lost contact with most of my Uni mates and my other friends are either in Afghanistan or enjoying a week's leave with their family. Harry will probably be out with her girlfriend. I have collected Mike's number from his landlord; we may meet tomorrow if he is free. Sounds like a hell of a plan, doesn't it? –JW"

"I hope your friend Mike is free tomorrow, John. –SH"

That was strangely sweet. John didn't take Sherlock as a sympathetic person but he got the support and understanding which he tried to convey through his message.

"And I hope you get to do something exciting this Christmas, something new J -JW"

John reached home, hid his presents and went to the kitchen to make tea and something to eat. God, he was famished.

"How long is your leave this time? –SH"

"My flight is on 29th. We will leave so that other boys can to come home to spend the New Year with their family and friends. –JW"

"How much longer do you have to serve your Queen and Country? –SH"

"You mean when I'll come back finally? It's five years more, if only I survive that long! –JW"

"Then you'll die a martyr. Isn't that the ideal for a soldier? Serve your Queen and countrymen, die a martyr and become a hero? –SH"

John bristled at that. For him there was nothing more brave than to stand on the frontline and take a bullet hoping that his death would save someone else's life.

"Don't Joke about it, Sherlock. It's for us you people can sleep peacefully at night. Nobody wants to die unless it is absolutely necessary. I have seen so many injured soldiers crying in their deathbeds to live a little more; they begged me to save them so that they can see their familes, their country once more. We serve, we die because someone has to. Someone needs to protect our loved ones. I regret my every failure, every patient I couldn't save, regret them every day. When I first joined I was scared to death to be honest but now I just hope I can serve as long as I can. –JW"

"Why? –SH"

John was a little irritated. First off he couldn't tolerate any kind of jab towards soldiers and then after his long emotional confession this man's only response was a "why"! Jesus, he was a living question-mark, wasn't he?

"There are a few reasons and one of them is there will always be lives to save, to protect. There will never be a sufficient number of doctors in the field and knowing that I doubt I can stop myself from renewing my term. –JW"

"What are the other reasons? –SH"

John should have been irritated or angry but this actually felt good. He felt relived to vent some of his thoughts, emotions to a living being who could actually respond back. It was easier to open up your heart to a faceless stranger than to a friend or a family. So he went on.

"Once you see the battlefield you can never go back to a normal civilian life, Sherlock. Look at me for instance. I've been there for two years only but already I feel awkward coming back; I can't relate with friends, with my only living family. I try to joke, try to laugh off the discomfort but at the end of the day all I can see is blood, sand and death. I already feel I don't belong here anymore, can you imagine what will happen when I come back after 5 more years? I may survive the war zone but I'm not sure I will survive a normal life. –JW"

There was a long gap, longer than John had anticipated. He just didn't want to be left alone with his morbid thoughts. Then at last Sherlock replied.

"Normal is overrated and boring. Any other reason? –SH"

"There is no reason for me to come back. –JW"

This time the pause was even longer it was awkward. John wanted to keep talking but didn't know how to start after that.

"I'm gonna go and take a shower now, alright? –JW"

It was lame but he didn't want leave the conversation hanging on such a note.

"Yes, alright. –SH"

John showered, tidied the flat a bit, prepared a small and quick lunch then sat to watch some telly but soon he realized that he was thinking about Sherlock and went to his bedroom to retrieve his phone. John was surprised to see how much a faceless relatively stranger could influence his mind but then again Sherlock Holmes was not just anyone. He was a larger than life existence. It didn't matter to John how the man looked like, for him Sherlock was already the most attractive and interesting person he had ever met and he was enjoying every minute he spent with the genius. But John wanted to see him nevertheless. His leave was for a few days and he wanted to meet Sherlock in person but was too embarrassed to bring it up. It was too soon, wasn't it?

"Hey. –JW"

"Hello, John. –SH"

"What are you doing? I'm just watching some crap telly. –JW"

"Hmm. I'm thinking. –SH"

"About what? –JW"

"Nothing in particular. –SH"

"Liar. Must be thinking about your babe ;) –JW"

"By some social established norms it is considered rude to call people liar without proper evidence and I do not possess a child. –SH"

"Who the hell "possess" a child?! And I meant your girlfriend, you idiot. –JW"

"Girls are not really my area. And John, do you get free 'emot-icons' and exclamation marks with your Tesco groceries? –SH"

'Girls are not his area? What does…? Oh!' suddenly it dawned on him.

"okay, alright…so, boyfriend then? –JW"

"I consider myself married to my work, John. And now if you are satisfied with your rather tactless enquiry about my sexual life can we talk about something useful? –SH"

John chuckled reading that. 'Git', he muttered under his breath and also noticed how Sherlock avoided the question. He decided to drop the topic.

"Have you noticed that we have managed to spend twenty four hours together?! :D –JW"

Only after hitting the send he realized what the text would sound like and hurried to send another.

"I mean you have managed to tolerate me for a whole day. See, how charming I am? ;) –JW"

Yes, teasing was safe; it would help him to suppress his attraction towards this strange man.

"If I've managed to suffer you for this long then the credit is all mine, Watson ;) –SH"

"Oh my God! Did you just use a winky face? Sherlock Bloody Holmes used a winky face! A fucking winky face! :D :D :D –JW"

"Shut up, John. Your idiocy is rubbing off on me. I should be concerned. –SH"

John thought it was hilarious. He didn't know how Sherlock looked like but he could imagine a grumpy kid with an enormous pout glaring at a huge winky face. John almost rolled out of the couch laughing. In this light and funny moment John finally mustered up his courage to ask Sherlock what he was meaning to ask him since last night.

"Hey, do you think we could meet around this weekend for a pint or two? You know, just to know each other better? And honestly, it will do good for me to see your Lordship at last :p –JW"

Yes, it was good. Keeping it light was good. John could handle being funny. It didn't sound desperate, did it? Sherlock took time to answer and John waited with a bated breath, like scared teenager and hated himself for it. At last the text alert tone chimed.

"I am sorry, John but that cannot happen. I am leaving the country soon. –SH"

So, that's it then. The refusal. At least it was polite, John thought. It was really too soon but John never felt like this before. John was always a popular guy throughout his life, never had to face the problems finding dates or someone to shag. He fell in love a couple of times also or so he thought at that time but not once in his life he felt this much eager to meet someone whom he didn't even know by person. It was a little over twenty four hours only for God's sake! He was embarrassed with himself but at the same time John knew it might be his only chance to see Sherlock. With his line of work he might not be alive next month and he was desperate to meet the person to whom he was attracted like a moth to a flame. It was probably his only chance and now that was lost too. He wasn't even sure whether Sherlock was really leaving the country or it was just an excuse but why did that matter now? He would go back to Afghanistan a few days later, might not be able to come back for a long time or might come home in a coffin. John laughed a bitter laugh. Again a text came from Sherlock and John somewhat reluctantly opened it.

"But that does not mean I don't want to meet you John, I really do. I would like to know you better too but my situation is not so smooth right now and no matter how much I want to alter it, it cannot happen. I am sorry, John.-SH"

'Yeah, right, you sure do.' John mumbled. He regretted everything, coming here, texting Sherlock, living with Harry, everything. He didn't belong here, not anymore.

"No no, it's fine. It's all fine. Enjoy your trip, Sherlock. –JW"

"We will meet again, John. –SH"

"Yeah, sure we will J -JW"

John got up. Harry had asked him to join her and Clara in a pub but John decided to skip it. So he opted for a long walk instead. He needed some air. The darkness was setting outside; thick cold air brushed his face making it raw and red. He walked on without a destination. He didn't send any text to Sherlock after his last one and neither did Sherlock. It was all fine. A chance meeting with the most intriguing man John had ever met, a quick one-sided interest/attraction and then the end. It was normal, a perfectly common occurrence. But the only thing that wasn't common was that that person was Sherlock Holmes. John knew the end was inevitable; he was a soldier posted in another continent, came back home for a few days and would return within a week. He knew better than to kid himself but he thought at least he could take some pleasant memories back with him, to cherish them when the nights were long and hot, to use them to remind himself that London was real, that he also had a life outside the desert. Now it seemed that he had asked for too much.

John ended up in a pub. It was full of jovial and loud people relishing the festive spirit. John sat in a corner with a beer and watched the flow of life; a group of cheering boys who jostled each other, a blushing couple, some old grumpy people who complained about the cold and so on. He watched and watched and felt how different his life was form them. He couldn't recognize a single face and he felt so alone. Sitting in a crowed on a Christmas Eve he felt lonelier than ever. With a sudden impulse he pulled out his phone and sent a text.

"Can I call you? –JW"

The reply was instant.

"If you want to.-SH"

Well, that wasn't a very positive response.

"Do you want me to? – JW"

After a beat,

"Yes. –SH"

John left the pub immediately and came outside. He needed to know Sherlock was real, needed the man to be real. He tried to calm his pounding heart down and hit the call button. After a couple of rings the call was received.

J: "Sherlock?"

S: "Hello, John"

John was surprised to hear the deep resonating voice. He was only twenty, wasn't he?

J: "uh..hi..I..I just wanted to talk… to talk to you."

S: "I am glad you did. It is good to at least put a voice to a name."

J: "yeah, yeah, my thought exactly, yeah."

John was having great difficulty bringing a topic, any damn topic.

S: "are you outside?"

J: "yeah, I'm at a pub right now, just passing time and all."

S: "And are you having fun?"

J: "Not really."

S: "I thought so, too."

John smirked.

J: "Of course you did. You are Mr. Know-it-all."

S: "You and your inane naming sense."

J: "Well, I try my best to keep you amused."

John heard a throaty laugh coming from the other side. It made him happy and sad at the same time.

S: "So, is there anything in particular you wanted to talk to me?"

J: "no, not really. I just.. I.. sorry, I am probably bothering you. I should go now."

S: "No! I didn't mean it like that. I didn't. I am really glad, John, that you chose to call me, truly."

Hearing Sherlock's reaction John felt a bit better. It seemed that Sherlock was enjoying the call too.

J: "Okay, alright. I wanted to hear your voice actually. I needed to know that you were real."

S: "Seems fair, specially in this ag…"

J: "I wanted some memories to take back, some happy memories."

S: "…"

J: "That's why I wanted to meet, you know. To create some moments."

S: "I would have loved to be a part of your happy memories. I am truly sorry, John."

J: "You are already a part of my happy moments, Sherlock. Every damn thing you said to me, we said to each other will make my days less painful. I am actually glad that Harry wrote that number wrongly. I wouldn't have met you if it wasn't for that. I don't even know you but I am happy that I've found you, Sherlock"

S: "John, I…I don't know what to say. I am not good at communicating and now words fail me completely. But I want you to know that you are appreciated. I thank you for letting me be a part of your happiness. No..nobody ever said that to me, felt that about me. I didn't even know that I was capable of making someone happy and though I'm certain that you give me far too much credit than I actually deserve I thank you nevertheless. And I'm also glad that I chose to reply to that 'wrong number'."

John was speechless. He never thought Sherlock would actually thank him for his feelings. He felt appreciated and Sherlock did it to him. His urge for seeing Sherlock increased a great deal.

J: "When are you leaving? Can't we meet at least for an hour? I can meet you wherever you think is convenient for you. It sounds desperate, I know, but I really want to see you Sherlock."

S: "We will meet again, John. We have to. I promise."

J: "You don't understand. I may not be alive next month; that next time may never come in my life. Please Sherlock, just once?"

S: "….."

S: "My car will arrive in less than three minutes, John. I am leaving tonight."

J: "…"

J: "Oh. Right."

S: "John…. We will meet when you come back next time."

J: "If I come back at all."

S: "Then I am giving you a reason to come back. You needed a reason to come back home, now you have one. You will come back, to me. For me."

J: "There will be a world between us. There are so many interesting things in your life, Sherlock. Who will remember a stupid faceless army doctor? You will forget me."

S: "Then you will find me again, just like you did this time."

J: "And if I cannot reach you? If I forget the way back home? What will happen then?"

S: "In that case….. I will find you again."

John screwed shut his eyes; warm teardrops rolled down his frozen cheeks.

J: "You promise, Sherlock?"

S: "I promise, John."

S: "My ride is here, John. Leave your base's postal address at my website. My phone will be off for a short period of time before my brother update my SIM according to the roaming plan. So if you wa…"

J: "You never told me where you are going."

S: "You never asked. I'm going to France to live with my grandmother."

J: "You are going even further….. but then again we will be thousand miles apart anyway."

S: "Mind can travel faster than light, John. Always remember that. Distance is just a term, a thought. Despite our short acquaintance you are closer to me than my own brother. And I will write to you as soon as I can. Do not forget to leave your address."

J: "yes, yes I will. Travel safely, Sherlock. Have a good trip."

S: "Merry Christmas, John."

J: "Merry Christmas, Sherlock."

S: "We will find each other again."

J: "Yes, yes we will."

Ending the call John looked up and stared at the dark sky. So dark, unknown and enigmatic yet so close to heart. It reminded him of Sherlock. At least they would be under the same sky. So far yet so close. He had a reason now and he would always find his way back home. Always.

~0~0~0~0~

When the call ended Sherlock was already on his way to the airport. Emotion was not his cup of tea; it was the last thing he wanted himself to indulge in. Despite his young age he had almost perfected the art of distancing himself from people or so he thought. Nobody ever tried to know him and he returned the favour with pleasure. Mycroft's preaching along with his own bitter experiences convinced Sherlock that caring was never an advantage which was why all the things he was feeling regarding John were so alien to him that he didn't know what to think, how to process. Sherlock detested not knowing and it was taking a toll on his mental faculty. There were so many emotions, so many unanswered questions, variants racing in his brain and all of them were generated from a single source- John Watson.

Sherlock regretted many decisions which he had taken in the past based on pure impulses but never had he regretted something this much. He regretted taking his first dose of cocaine, regretted for getting addicted to it, regretted giving Mycroft the reason to doubt him. If he knew some mere minutes of pleasure would rob him his chance to experience actual happiness, a chance to create a solid, concrete connection with another human being who not only tolerated him but wanted to make memories with him, he never had taken that small vial of liquid oblivion…. Oh, if only he knew.

He never enjoyed attachments. With a dead mother, an aloof father and an overly ambitious brother he never did really have many options. Still, he tried to fit in, tried once or twice to connect with others who wasn't a Holmes but it only caused him pain. Sherlock wasn't so sure John would have liked him if he had the opportunity to meet Sherlock in person but then again John Watson was an exception to all of Sherlock's previous notions and experiences. So, Sherlock liked to hope that John might like him even after knowing him. Hence, he must try, once again. He wanted to know John more, wanted John to know the real Sherlock and for that he should try and he would. John Watson was the restart button his life needed and when he came back from France he would be a better man. For John.

He had reached the airport and finished the necessary formalities. He was glowing with new determination; he had found his hope, had found his light at last. Before boarding the plane he sent one last text to John.

"No matter where you go, be it a war zone or Hell itself, I will find you again, John Watson. That's a promise. –SH"

~0~0~0~0~

The End

~0~0~0~0~

A/N: This is the end of the first part of the series. If you are still interested reading more then please let me know and I will upload the Sequel. Thank you so much for all the support you have shown me so far. It really means a lot for me. It gives me confidence to go on, so thank you once again. And a very special thanks to my lovely Magda The Magpie without whom I wouldn't have been able to continue with this series.