Sherlock groaned tossing his phone and hearing it hit the wall with a satisfying clatter, he felt his composure inch away the closer he slid to the floor, hands raked through his hair tugging at his curls trying to force himself to stop. The misery in him had exploded. It was agonizing, scraping at his mind and heart all day with raw claws that tore through the skin. He sobbed heavily hearing John's footsteps approach.
John reached the top of the stairs, reached for the door knob, but stopped as he heard the sobs coming from his friend behind the door. John had never heard Sherlock so distressed, and the feeling sat hard in the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath to try and compose himself before he slowly opened to door to reveal a most pitiful scene. His friend looked broken, and the sight pierced through John's heart like stinging metal. He walked carefully over to Sherlock's side.
"Sherlock?" John asked gently as he slowly approached him.
Sherlock's shoulders slumped what little dignity was holding them up as he heard John's voice.
"What." he spat coldly. His attempt at indifference was severely compromised by his appearance and shaking tone.
"Just leave me be John this isn't...it's not your business." he gulped flinching as John knelt beside him. He couldn't bring himself to lift his head or look at the other man.
John felt cold. Seeing Sherlock like this caused him a pain he could not explain. He laid his hand softly on Sherlock's shoulder.
"It might not be my business, but I am here for you regardless."
"Well isn't that thoroughly useless," Sherlock snarled already on the defensive, like a wounded animal backed into a corner grasping at the last bit of aggression to ward off others.
"Maybe, maybe not." John said as he sat down. He looked around and saw Sherlock's phone smashed upon the ground.
"Whether you want to talk or not, I am here, and not going anywhere."
Sherlock slowly lifted his head following John's gaze to the cracked pieces of technology.
"It felt good to break something." He explained in a raw voice.
John shrugged. "In times of sorrow or anger, breaking something feels necessary, and very good."
Sherlock gulped feeling thickness in his throat. "It was either that or my own bones."
"Yeah, let's not do that." John said. Sherlock's comment shook him deeply, but he put on the brave front of a soldier, and carried on.
"What is it that happened Sherlock. Please talk to me." John said tenderly, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
"You're always so boring," Sherlock commented weakly trying to fish for a joke just falling short.
"Don't you have somewhere to be." he dismissed bitterly. "At home with Mary perhaps and not sitting on the floor with a crying adult?"
"No, not really." John said flatly. "I messaged Mary and told her I would be here for a bit." He looked Sherlock over as he talked. His tear stricken face looked so full of pain it hurt John to look him in the eyes.
"I am here for as long as I need to be."
Sherlock internally rolled his eyes. Of course he did.
"And you told her why?" he asked flatly humiliation creeping on his face.
"No, I left it out." John said with a half-smile. "She didn't need to know."
Taking in a grateful breath he held a small flat smile of gratitude.
"I don't think telling you is the best idea." Sherlock explained slowly.
"Oh, nothing you could say could ever change the way I see you. You are, well, you are brilliant you know." John said with a reassuring tone. He needed to know what could affect the great Sherlock Holmes in such a way as this.
Sherlock let out a short empty laugh.
"You can stop looking at me like that..." he muttered, "like I'm incapable of cracking that would help for a start." He sighed looking at John carefully. "As always you don't ask the right questions, not what who."
John's heart sank. He had a feeling, but he had hoped that he was wrong.
"Sherlock, I know I have not been around very much lately..." John started but he could not bring himself to finish his sentence. If he was wrong about this, Sherlock would never let it go. Sherlock shut his eyes for the first time unsure what John would say. "Finish the sentence." He urged curiously ignoring his shaking body.
John took a deep breath. "Things have been different since you returned; there is no doubt about it. I'm married now, and with a baby on the way. I know that I have been round less and less. I wish I could see you more, I really do. You must know that." John said, voice shaking a little. Remaining calm in difficult situations was what he was trained for, but this was Sherlock. It all felt wrong. So much worse than it normally would.
"You think I broke down because of your happiness?" Sherlock asked after a few moments of silence, he dipped his head.
"I'll admit not...having you here has made this more than difficult and if you had been around I probably wouldn't have ended up like this, but that's only because you would have told me to stop being an idiot and talk." he blinked away tears still spilling. "but you think that little of me? That your happiness would make me misanthropic?"
"Not my happiness Sherlock, but perhaps the lack of my company?" John muttered. "Look, now I seem very full of myself." John laughed lightly. "I know it is hard for you to believe, but I am not stupid Sherlock. I would never think that little of you."
"A lack of your company is never desired," Sherlock commented twisting his hands together. "You can stop feeling guilty it's not why I'm like this."
John felt a weight lift off his chest.
"Then please Sherlock, stop messing with my head. I want to help you."
"Your head's being messed with?!" Sherlock snapped in a rare display of unadulterated rage.
"Whoa" John jumped with surprise. "Please Sherlock, calm down." John wrapped his arm around the man who was both in extreme rage and sorrow.
"I didn't mean anything from it. I just want to help." John felt cold. He was trying to keep calm, but it was getting harder.
Sherlock stiffened at John's touch his breathing growing ragged.
"Well you can't fix this."
"Maybe not, but everything is better when talked out. I never should have left you alone to get like this." John said sadly. He spoke partly to himself, and partly to Sherlock.
"I shouldn't have let myself get involved then I wouldn't have gotten like this." Sherlock commented softly.
"You always get involved, that is kind of who you are." John said softly. "Come on Sherlock. Please."
"Involved with him," Sherlock mumbled twisting his face like he was swallowing a pill
John took a deep breath. Sometimes dealing with Sherlock was a slow and painful process. Much like speaking to a child.
"Please continue." John said, rubbing Sherlock's back gently.
"It was...I was being irritable and selfish, I contacted him by all rights he should have ignored me." Sherlock spoke with difficulty as he eyed John. He knew that talking was difficult when so much of their closeness came from unspoken understanding.
"Back at university, when I used to just ruin people's lives because I was bored." he spoke with such spite directed to him, "back when I started using, he and I would...never mind just go to Mary."
John sighed. He knew had hard this must have been for Sherlock. He was one of those guys that did not like talking things out, but this time it seemed needed.
"I am not leaving Sherlock. Not until I get the full story." John said sternly. He did not like pressuring Sherlock like this, but it had to be done.
Sherlock scowled, he wasn't getting rid of John clearly.
"You know I avoid all conversations about my personal life as if they are attempts on my life." he bit out. "Not a word to others about this. Let them infer or think or believe what they want of me I don't care I just want anything they talk about to remain speculation." He held John's gaze firmly scanning his face for a fault.
"He and I were involved, significantly so...it was a troubling and damaging and unhealthy stupid endeavor for the both of us and I was alone and unable to sleep because of, of those two years away so I contacted him and-"
John carefully hugged Sherlock. "It is okay." he said gently. "I know how hard this is for you."
Sherlock shuddered, a face of contempt painted on his features.
"I couldn't get in contact with him I couldn't...I couldn't see him I can't anymore I can't, nobody can." His words were rough. "I didn't even bother to find out, I smashed up his life when we were 20 and I left and when I wanted something I...and he." he trailed looking helpless.
"Everyone makes mistakes Sherlock." John said trying to comfort his friend. "It is the mistakes that shape us to who we are. What did you do Sherlock. Tell me." John hated this. He hated how sad Sherlock was, and he hated forcing him to talk about his life. Sometimes things need to happen though. He knew that.
"I couldn't pin point it." Sherlock admitted lowly. "We were the worst thing for each other, still would be I imagine, but the difference was he had a kind heart I have a cold one." He spoke slowly almost not present it was easier if it wasn't real. "And I never gave him a thought, not until the heaviness started drowning me and I tried to just use him again, that was my intent to just use him until I got better but...he's dead. He died John, he died three years ago."
John looked at the ground. It suddenly made sense. "It is okay. Things like that happened Sherlock. You didn't know." John tried his best to comfort his friend, but he was just not sure as to what he should even say.
"I didn't care to see him until I wanted something again. I would shoot up near him or we'd go somewhere to sit and smoke. I always drew my hand away when he tried to hold it or drew my lips away when he tried to kiss me in public because I knew it bothered him. I made him care about me when I was at my most difficult and awful and destructive and then I didn't give him a thought until I thought it was time to do that again." Sherlock's voice gritted and his fists balled. "What sort of a person does that make me?"
"Well, a sociopath. I am not going to lie to you, you are too good for that. What you did was really messed up and cruel." John spoke calmly; weary to not set Sherlock off again. "But it was the past, Sherlock. Everyone does stupid, awful things they wish they could take back. You need to remember it, so as to not repeat the action, but you cannot let it rule who you are."
Sherlock stilled not daring to even let himself breathe, even for a fraction.
"Don't ever call me a sociopath again." He bit out, sounding thoroughly dangerous and on edge.
"Oh, so it is okay when you do it..." John trailed off. Dealing with Sherlock was indeed like dealing with a child. "Sorry." He said.
"Get out." He spat coldly looking ahead and refusing to even glance at John. He dug his nails deep into his palms, hissing as they broke his skin. The distraction helped. It helped from his shaking and sobbing
"Sherlock" John tried to reason.
"Oh what?" Sherlock grumbled leaping to his feet, pacing erratically. "What? What! Make your damn point don't just say my name!"
"What did you want me to do? Lie to you? Patronize you?!" John shouted. He had worked hard to maintain calm, but he couldn't any longer.
"Tell you that what you did was okay? You deserve better than that, and you know it. Stop being such a baby Sherlock. You messed up. People do that. I know you think you are better than everyone else. The great Sherlock Holmes. Stop beating yourself up for something you can no longer do anything about. Stop acting like an infant when I am trying to help. Damn you!"
"Don't you think I know I messed up?" He choked. "I am well aware of how truly vile I am, if I could delete the plethora of mistakes I've made from my mind John I would." Sherlock snapped back his chest puffed and back straight as the two men faced off shouting.
"I didn't know how to cope with somebody actually wanting to be near me so I went for the power option like the selfish disgusting heartless person I can be. Victor wasn't a saint by any standards don't you confuse yourself into think he was a sweet naive boy."
John calmed himself. "I was just trying to help. That is what I do Sherlock." He turned his back on the man so full of hurt, opened the door and stepped outside. He wanted to help, but he couldn't it seemed, so it was better for him to leave then punch Sherlock in the face.
Sherlock kicked the wall with the back of his foot. "Damn it!" he growled wincing as he heard the door shut he looked out the window seeing John lean against the front, not moving. Seized by his own self-hatred he stalked down the stairs pulling open the door. "You have something else to say." he snarled pointedly. "It's written on your face."
"No Sherlock, I don't. I mean I do, but not when you are acting like this." John talked slowly. He felt a bit sick. It was not an easy task being the best friend of this man. "Can you just calm down? Just a bit."
Sherlock promptly shut his mouth, jaw clenched and lip curled he swallowed his anger. "Calm." He replied, his voice cracking a bit under restraint. "Go on."
"You know I wasn't saying you were a bad person, and I wasn't saying that he was a good person." John started carefully. "I was just trying to give you an honest answer and help without babying you."
"You called me a sociopath," He blinked a little, the word sounded raw in his throat. "he woul-he did he would say..." Sherlock trailed shifting uncomfortably.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, or bring up anything. It was never my intention." John said. His voice had faded to a sort of loud whisper.
"I know I just, didn't know how to react." Sherlock looked oddly stuck in a small state of painful nostalgia.
"I just played what he'd say on a loop so I thought shouting at you might drown it out."
"Glad I could help." John said with a pained smile, and a small, dark chuckle. "I am sorry Sherlock. Maybe I should have just let you be. I was just a bit worried."
Sherlock rubbed unconsciously where the faded track mark scars sat in the crease of his elbow.
"No just...stay." He begged gently, "I doubt you'd manage to repeat any of his other words I...I won't send you out like that again if you do."
"Yeah, okay." John said nodding his head, and walking back up the stairs to the flat. "Of course."
Ignoring the way his hands shook and the dried blood on the inside of his palms, he cleared his throat.
"Tea?" Sherlock pressed unsure how to behave. "How's Mary?" he kept the pleasantness simple. He was fine he could ignore this.
John was a little surprised by Sherlock's sudden change. "Love some." He said, sitting down in the chair that he always sat in. "She's uh, she's good." John said, studying Sherlock carefully.
"And the baby?" He pulled John's usual mug from the cupboard spooning sugar in his own cup. Tea making was methodical. He could do it and distract himself listening to the flicks of switches and clank of cups.
"You're studying me, stop."
John quickly looked away from Sherlock, and around the room. "Just fine." He said.
"Excellent, and she wants to find out the sex and you don't." He pointed out, keeping his deductions minimal, conversational, dull. He frowned. "You're still doing it."
"Yeah, that's right." John awkwardly shifted in his chair. He was trying not to think about Sherlock, or what had happened earlier, but that was all he could think about, and Sherlock knew it. He always knew.
Sherlock glowered a little, pouring the tea. "I can hear you thinking and it's exhausting...just." He ran his fingers through his hair sighing. "Say it. Say what you're thinking it's too...unnatural to have a boundary between us."
"I am just worried about you is all." John said plainly. "I don't know what it is you want me to say."
Sherlock paused for a moment. "I'm not sure either." He admitted softly, handing John his cup. He bit his lip. "I'm not going to cry again if that's what you're worried about."
"No, not at all." John said sipping his tea. Hot. He was a little worried, just because he had never felt more helpless, and it is not a feeling he liked.
"You don't need to help me John, it's not a thing that can be helped. I'm hardly in mourning."
"I am just here for the tea." John said jokingly. "And good company." He smiled and raised his cup before taking another sip.
Sherlock scoffed, "I think we established I am awful company."
"No, well maybe for some people." John said with a shrug. "You are fine company to me."
"Now that you don't have to be near me most of the time." Sherlock replied with an arched brow. "You've forgotten what an annoying dick I can be, as you put it."
John laughed. "It wasn't so bad." He said reminiscing on his days at Baker Street.
"Most people would say chasing murderers is not ideal, but you're hardly most people," Sherlock fiddled with his cup delicately. "You were right." He uttered. "Before, you were right."
"I'm right a lot; you have to be more specific." John said with a half-smile.
"You were right about 10 minutes ago when I was shouting at you." Sherlock specified, "Though yes you can be correct at a high frequency I suppose."
John sipped his tea, and nodded his head. "That's good then." he said.
"Is it?" Sherlock forced, "is it really good that you were right, that you spend your time with a cruel man."
"You are not cruel Sherlock." John said with exasperation. "I wasn't saying that you were. I was just saying- oh never mind."
"What?" Sherlock lifted his head confused, "I...you're...you're angry again I, I don't know why."
"Not angry." John said. He stared hard at the wall then turned to Sherlock. "Just stop beating yourself down, it is not like you at all."
Without thought, a large bout of laughter escaped Sherlock. It bordered manic. "You really believe that? I had everyone else fooled but you John, really, even you?"
"You always seemed pretty full of yourself to me." John said. He was trying hard not to set Sherlock off again. It was horrible the first time.
"I have a confidence that I'm correct, because I always am." Sherlock replied coolly, "it's different."
"See, that right there." John said. "That doesn't sound like a man who hates on himself."
"And somebody who injects drugs directly into their veins is clearly the picture of a person with a lot of care of their self-preservation."
"It was a long time ago you did that, and people change. I guess I just never really put too much thought into it."
Sherlock studied John fascinated by what he was learning.
"Do you imagine the first time the word freak was used in reference to me another person said it?" he posed the question like he was a teacher in class. "Or it was something I concluded of my own accord?"
"I just assumed it was someone else." John answered honestly. "I mean, even now, people call you that a lot." Just thinking about made John's blood boil.
"I am aware" Came the quick response, "though it's hardly original." He sighed, almost disappointed.
"I liked a lot of things John, I assure you myself isn't one of them."
"Sorry to hear that." John said. He felt sadden by Sherlock's words. "You're one of the things I like though, so you can't be bad."
"And you're one of the things I like, but I suggest you re-evaluate your list if I'm on it."
John snickered "I think my list is just fine."
Sherlock's lip twitched in distaste. "Then you're an idiot."
"That's very nice of you." John said with a teasing smile.
"Well I'm so glad this is very funny for you."
"Sorry, not funny." John said, returning to a serious tone.
"Maybe a little." Sherlock offered, attempting a smile but grimacing instead. "Now you know how I...am." He ended awkwardly. "Cruelty and all."
"Honestly, I still see you the same as I always did. An arrogant dick, but a fantastic genius as well. Nothing has changed." John tried to convince Sherlock of this by making the most censer face possible.
"I just don't believe you. How can you hear what I did to him and be fine?"
"I can forgive a good man for a stupid mistake. That simple"
"I'm not a good man, John." Sherlock deadpanned simply.
"You have helped countless people by solving impossible cases. That makes you a good man." John tried to explain.
"For a selfish purpose, you save the life I solve the case." Sherlock tightened his grip on the cup, swatting Victor's words out of his head. "Shut up not now." he muttered to his thoughts
"Think what you will, and I will do the same." John said. He was worrying about Sherlock quite a bit, but he was not sure how to help. It was an awful feeling of helplessness.
"We normally do anyway." Sherlock huffed, taking John's empty mug and his full one to the sink. Not to wash not for manners, just to take a breath for a moment to have another methodical distraction from the chatter in his head. "I said shut up!"
"Are you okay?" John could not stop himself from asking.
"Fine" He called kicking the cupboard with his foot a little as he heard the high crack in his voice. "Fine just...deleted where the detergent is."
"Oh, um, okay." John said. He knew Sherlock was lying, but he wasn't going to call him out on it.
"Stop it, stop it just shut up!" Sherlock gritted out under his breath, the words coming out like a muttered growl. He fiddled with the mug, jumping a bit as the words got louder and the mug slipped from his hands, clattering into three pieces.
"Shut up!"
John jumped out of his chair and ran to Sherlock. "You are not okay. Please, sit down." he grabbed Sherlock's arm and tried to lead him back to the living room.
Sherlock fought against it initially a bit like a bratty child before thumping into the chair sitting at the tip of it in anxiety.
"It's fine this happens sometimes, normally it's your voice though."
"Oh, well. Just sit." John said making sure that Sherlock was stable before sitting down in his own chair.
"You don't think its fine." Sherlock called in his deductive tone. "You think it's abnormal."
"Yeah, maybe." John said "I am just trying to be supportive right now though, so I will call you out on it later."
"Oh, good to know." He quipped sarcastically, dropping his head. Sherlock pulled his slender fingers together at the nape of his neck, his leg quivering as his emotions rutted around inside him like poison.
"What can I do?" John asked sympathetically. "How can I help?"
"Haven't figured that out yet, believe me your sarcastic comments in my head on a crime scene aren't desired. If I knew how to stop it I would have long ago." Sherlock shivered a little. "It's never been his voice before. I don't like this."
"Have you tried blocking it out?" John felt silly to ask, but he was unsure of what else to do.
"It's like a knife, it cuts through my thought process." Sherlock explained wearily, "It wasn't...it...this is why I couldn't sleep and now he's in here and that's not right. The man meant nothing to me."
"Maybe it is just guilt." John suggested.
"I didn't kill him," Sherlock growled with a rigid back.
"I never said you did. I meant maybe it was guilt for how you treated him." John explained.
"Oh because you're the poster boy for healthy relationships, how many of your girlfriend's names did you forget?"
"Are we really doing this?" John asked. "Come on Sherlock. You know what I mean."
"Yes but why does it have to be what he used to say?" The detective finally looked up, as though he was in physical pain, "For god sake why /that/ of all things"
"What is it that he is saying to you?"
"'I don't understand why can't you just be normal, that's what I signed up for. A normal boyfriend. You can't feel anything. It's like you're a sociopath. Sometimes I think you're a machine, if I cut you I doubt you'd bleed.'" Sherlock's voice trembled.
"I wish I had some really good advice on what to do. I am sorry, I don't." John said rubbing his forehead.
"Of course you don't." Sherlock's voice gained a steely edge. "Why would you? Why would you have any idea what to do anymore, at all. It's not like you've been here."
"I would if I could, and I will be more often." John said looking deeply into Sherlock's eyes. "You have been there for me, and I will return that gesture."
A foul resigned expression appeared on his face, he took a small breath.
"You're going to have a child, don't be ridiculous. I'll go to a doctor's, get some pills for the sleeping and I'll be fine."
"It will be a while still. I have a few months." John explained. "It is something we both need, trust me."
"If anything I need to cope with the fact you're not here anymore."
"I am not here anymore," John motioned around the flat. "but I am still here."
"You're not either, why do you think I wanted to call him in the first place."
"This was during the time you were "dead" right?" John asked. It had been a long day, and he wanted to make sure he had all the details correct.
"When I was dead I was preoccupied with...injuries and work," He corrected, keeping a level head. "I came back and I didn't think...I never imagined those two years would make things difficult and they did, and the flat was empty and I wanted somebody near me."
"You could have called me. No, I can't be here all the time, but we can still solve cases and have conversations. Like now, but not like this." John explained.
"No I couldn't have." He corrected a little sadly. "I...I slept well, believe it or not, when I was with him, if I wasn't high I mean, I just thought if he was there I'd be able to stop having nightmares." Sherlock grimaced at the truly pitiful way he sounded.
"I am sorry, I really am. I had horrible nightmares when I got back from Afghanistan. I still do sometimes. I know it is different, but similar maybe."
"No it's a...normal parallel," Sherlock assured, standing to try and walk the tension out.
"I wish I hadn't slept so well when I was with him." He commented off handily, the faintest hit of regret in his voice.
"People sleep better when they feel safe." John stated. "Maybe that was part of it?"
"No sane person would feel safe with that man, much like no sane person would feel loved with me." He argued. "I don't know...I honestly don't understand it, I just liked having his arm around mine in private."
"Every wants something like that." John sighed "Have you thought about, well, looking for someone?"
Sherlock's fingers clutched tight on his forearm at John's words. "Sorry, what?" He replied vaguely, ignoring the tension in him.
"Well." John shifted in his chair. "Have you thought about, you know, dating?"
"I don't date," Sherlock replied dully.
"Well, maybe you should. It would clear your mind a bit." John said. "Or at least just get another case. You need something."
"Someone." He corrected. "You said something but you meant someone didn't you."
"Yeah, I did." John admitted.
"I do know how to date people." Sherlock replied, almost in pre-emptive defense.
"You sure about that?" John questioned.
"You disagree?"
"Yeah, I would." John said honestly.
"Why?" Sherlock halted his pacing, the question simple and honest between them.
"Well, in all the time I have known you, you have never shown any interest in anyone. One time you went on a date with me. You have a, let's say, 'quirkiness' about you that drives most people insane, and you cannot turn it off." John listed off the many things he thought of.
Sherlock frowned leaning against the wall. "Just because I haven't marched people in front of your face, doesn't mean I haven't had...people, in the time I've known you." He replied. "and we didn't go on a date as you so vocally remind everybody we meet."
"Well sorry then." John said, sitting back in his chair. "I may have been mistaken, but then again I am not sure I was."
"I value privacy and discretion, you didn't even know my preferences for certain until today." He said tapping the wood lightly. "Maybe you weren't, depends what you're referring to."
"Do what you will Sherlock, I know you are going to anyway. I was just suggesting something that may help you."
"I did ask you once, don't think I made my intentions clear though your response was...clear." Sherlock commented ignoring John's words.
"Oh." John looked down at his feet. "I didn't realize."
"Chinese smuggling ring? I said that's what I was suggesting you said no it wasn't." Sherlock shrugged. "No harm done."
"Well, I was going on a date with someone else, your timing really could not have been worse." John stated.
"You're saying it like you would have accepted if you hadn't been trying to get off with Sarah at the time."
"Yeah, maybe." John was trying to look anywhere but Sherlock's face. He could feel his sharp gaze piercing him.
"Don't try and spare my feelings John for god sake it was four years ago, don't pretend you would have said yes." Sherlock paused. "Would you have?"
"Well, yes. I would have." John shuffled his feet back and forth. "When we first met I thought you were absolutely amazing, the way you were able to deduce everything and everyone. It was truly fantastic."
Sherlock took a small breath in feeling his gut wrench. "I really wished you would have said no just now."
"And lie? I don't like lying." John stated flatly.
"You said I hadn't shown interest you...god you're so stupid." Sherlock stuttered.
"Not stupid, you are just hyper intelligent. You forget that a lot."
"Who do you think I've shown an interest in the time you've known me John, hmm?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Besides the people you never met I used because I couldn't think and you wouldn't let me smoke."
"First time out you said you were married to your work. I just assumed you were too busy with your work. I think that was pretty fair to assume." John explained
"Yes work, the work takes precedent always...the work and you." Sherlock muttered, fiddling with a drawer handle.
"Sorry I just didn't realize." John looked Sherlock in the eyes.
"Well it hardly matters now, you have Mary." He cleared his throat keeping the strain in his voice. "So you see why I couldn't...couldn't call now?"
"Yeah, I do." John sat back in his chair, and placed his hands on his forehead.
"I thought Victor could be a replacement." Sherlock shook his head. "Serves me right."
John sighed as he rubbed his eyes a little. He sat up and stretched his back before sitting back down, and turning to Sherlock. "What do you think is the best thing for you to do right now?" he asked.
Sherlock paused in thought. "I don't want to send you away, we just went two years without eac-" he cut himself off. "I don't necessarily think it's fair to Mary if I'm around you and it's hardly fair to other people if I use people like I tried to use Victor again because they're not you."
"I still want to be mates Sherlock." John said seriously. "I will not lose my best friend again."
Sherlock nodded a thank-full, if pained smile appeared on his face. "Thank-you, thank-you for staying then." He croaked. "This is how it happens for me doesn't it? I...I've played every variation out in my head with different people and it always ends like this. They have somebody who deserves them and I shouldn't."
"You do deserve someone though; you just need to take the chance before it is too late." John patted the arm of his chair.
"Yes and the evidence of that is staring me in the face." Sherlock's eyes twitched a little, dropping his head. "I don't mind being alone," he formed his words carefully. "it's being lonely that's the issue."
"Maybe you should just go out more?" John suggested.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, go out. Maybe to the theater or something else. Somewhere where you are around some other people."
"You're aware being around that much useless information and deductions is my own personal hell, yes?"
John laughed. "Yeah I know. I was trying to think of something to help with the loneliness."
"Cases, I'll just take cases if I'm not sleeping then I can't have nightmares and if I don't have nightmares, I don't want somebody there and I don't feel lonely."
"Cases." John clapped his hands "That is good."
"Without you." Sherlock added hastily.
"Oh." John looked away. "Yeah, of course."
"You can come to the ones that are for work, not a distraction." Sherlock sighed at the compromise.
"Good, good." John said with a smile. He felt relieved.
"Do you understand why?"
"Yeah, of course I do." John nodded
There may has well have been an allergic reaction in Sherlock's throat at the rate to which it was closing. "You love her don't you? Say it, I need to hear it."
"I do. I love her." John said looking away. He hated hurting him.
Sherlock's fist clenched a little, the nails once again sinking into his palms. "I lo-" he bit his tongue. No ,he wasn't saying that, he was going to be a grown up. "and I didn't deserve Victor did I, say that to. I deserve to feel guilty."
"No, you see here. You deserve the best. It hurt me so deeply when I thought you had died. I never thought that I would be able to get over the loss. You mean so much to me, you really do. Anyone should feel lucky to be with someone as amazing as you." John said quickly.
"I love you." Sherlock bit out miserably, the words ended in hopelessness like a child trying to get a parent to stay home from work. He hadn't intended it, it had slipped almost bitter-sweet from his mouth at John's kind words. Sherlock slapped his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have."
John froze for a moment before words were able to be formed in his mind. "No, it is fine. It's okay."
"It's all fine?" Sherlock drew the words from their first meeting, a wry smile tugging in spite of itself at his lips
"Yeah. It is." John smiled and chuckled.
"Did you never have an inkling that's how I felt?" Sherlock laughed a little. "Unobservant." He teased back to their old tone.
John laughed. "Not a clue. Wish I had though. Like I said, I broke when you left. Mary was there to pick up the pieces, but I never stopped thinking about you, you know. You saw me at your grave." John stopped laughing and looked away. "It wasn't very enjoyable."
Sherlock froze. "I had never wished more than in that moment to say hello. I couldn't...I'm sorry you just, I couldn't risk your life." He winced. "I owe you so many more sorry's John, and I can't give them all to you. I'd be dead before that. So just let me, let you be happy. Just let me, be there for you and Mary that's it." There was a nagged hurt in his voice that he couldn't send away. "But please...please don't say you wish or you would have."
"Yeah, right. I do understand now why you had to. I forgive you, and I definitely want you to still be there for me, and let me be there for you." John said with a half-smile. "Just try to be happy Sherlock. Please."
"Give me enough murders, I'll be happy." He lied, eyes creasing at the forced smile. John could see the lie plain as day on his face. "Thought Victor would just be waiting, thought you would just be waiting but...the world doesn't stop for Sherlock Holmes."
"You are great, but as I told you before; the world revolves around the sun, not you." John said jokingly.
"Pointless knowledge." Sherlock flipped his hand dismissively. "There's not another you somewhere is there?" he asked in a half joking manner.
"No, I am the only me." John said with a slight sting of pain. "Sorry"
"Ah damn, you're opposed me experimenting human cloning, aren't you?" Sherlock whipped around with an over dramatic sigh, he had to up the show he was putting on to try and feel disconnected.
"Just a bit, yeah. Though if someone could do it, you could." John said. He was trying to cheer Sherlock up, but given everything that had been said, he was not sure if complimenting was the best way. He could not think of another one though, so he just hoped for the best.
"Mmm you stopped being impressed at the deductions a while ago John, might want to reel it back, I'm fine." Sherlock bore out his forearm lying it over his eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of wetness from them.
"Sorry, just trying to- god I don't even know." John said as he flung his head back against the back of the chair.
"It's not an ideal situation I understand." Sherlock's voice deep, bouncing from the walls as he delivered the harsh truth. "But we'll be tip-toeing slightly around each other for a while."
"Lovely, like things weren't weird enough right now." John sighed.
"What with me coming back from the dead and you not knowing how to deal with being married and the eventual reality of fatherhood? While being dragged back into some cases, yes I can see how it's stressful." Sherlock drawled. "However," his words hovered with a pregnant pause, "I said I love you and you didn't say it back so I think out situations are equally awful."
"I did not even realize. I do love you." John froze. How had he let that slip out? "Oh God.." He whispered to himself.
Sherlock stilled. John hadn't realized what he'd said had he. "John," Sherlock whispered. "think about what you said, just now."
"Yeah, I know what I said." John said, deciding it was the best thing to do at this point. "I thought that I had inferred how I felt when I was telling you about the hell I went through losing you. Looks like I am not the only one who misses things." John stated.
"Mary," Sherlock reminded him in and instant though he sounded halfhearted. "John what...what are you playing at?"
"Of course I love Mary. It is just-" John covered his face and exhaled harshly. "As confusing as this has been for you, it has been for me to. I really cared about you, then you died, and I had to move on. I fell in love with someone else but I never stopped caring about you. I never forgot about you. When you came back again, it really messed me up." John tried his best to explain. Last thing he wanted was to hurt Sherlock, but I didn't want to lie to him either.
Sherlock felt his heart rate increase he sat himself up with some difficulty his eyes still watering from what he thought was rejection. "What do you mean, what are you saying? Did you love me, do you still?"
"Yeah, I love you. Should I be telling you this though? No, I am making it worse. I should just shut my damn mouth." John said, irritated at himself for being so selfish. He slammed his hand hard against his face. "Damn my selfishness! I should not be telling you this." He covered his face completely.
Sherlock, distressed, watched John hawk like. "No keep telling me it." He begged, the addict in him emerging. He knew it was bad for him.
"Sherlock please no. For god's sake. I do not want to hurt you." John felt hallow.
"I do an excellent job of it myself you wouldn't be doing anything but mildly contributing." Sherlock rushed. "I love you." he set firmly trying out a new power
"Look, I love you too..." John whispered into his hands, still not ready to face Sherlock.
"Is there a but?" Sherlock whispered back not daring to speak loudly.
"Mary." One word he knew would say it all. "Damn it all, just dammit all."
"You can kiss me if you want." Sherlock's mouth was hoarse. He hated himself in that moment. "You should...you shouldn't have said anything."
"You think I don't know that? I am so sorry I said anything I really am. I should not have done that to you. God Sherlock, I would love to kiss you. Damn me." He kept his hands pressed tight to his face. His head hurt, his body burned, and he felt so weird and hallow. His world was spiraling, and he was sinking.
"Shh," Sherlock hushed, shocked at the comfort in his voice, he walked over to John carefully tugging his hands away like he had done so many times when he woke up screaming in the other room from memories or war. "It's okay if you need to go." It wasn't "I'll be fine." You won't be "You just need to stop...this, the sinking."
John looked up into Sherlock's eyes. "No, I am fine." He took a deep breath and cleared his mind. "I think we still have things to talk about. Plus, you are even worse of now then you were when I got here thanks to me 'helping'"
Sherlock felt as though he was walking a tightrope unsure if he would fall or just collapse before he got to the end. "Okay," he managed out. "What...what do we have to say?"
"I don't even know, I just don't feel right leaving." John admitted.
"Always the morals of the outfit." Sherlock sighed, nudging him gently. "What are we going to do?"
"I really don't know. I mean, it was okay before, but now... I just don't know." John took a deep breath. "Just say something. Start talking. Fix this."
"Oh I can fix this?" Sherlock scoffed. "For god sake you don't want me to fix it, you want me to tell you to go back home kiss your wife and talk to her about baby names."
"No, I don't, and that is what scares me, Sherlock." John covered his face again. "I am evil or something."
"You stupid stupid wonderful man you're not evil," Sherlock sighed, shifting his hands away. "Kiss me."
John's eyes widened, and before he could stop himself he leaned his head in to bring Sherlock's lips to his. The warmth of his mouth caused a violent tingle coursing down John's entire body. He could feel the wetness of tears on Sherlock's face as he brought his hand to his cheek.
Sherlock was unsure how to feel, he was over-whelmed with joy and victory but a darkness held that kiss. It wasn't done without hurting others. The second John's hand touched his cheek and Sherlock's tongue scraped the bottom of John's lip, the detective knew that he was in trouble but he couldn't bring himself to care. Breaking apart Sherlock lent his forehead against John's.
"You made me a very happy man just then." He managed out in a shaking tone. "If you...if you nee-want to go to Mary it's okay."
John felt heavy. He knew it was wrong. He wasn't a bad person, but this was someone he had cared about for so long. "That was... really nice..." John finally stuttered out. He could find no more words to use. His mind was too busy swimming.
"You know it has to be your choice John." Sherlock gritted his thumb running over John's wrist.
"Can't think right now. I just can't." John closed his eyes and leaned back.
"Can I stay like this...close to you." Sherlock pressed tentatively.
"Yes. Yes." John whispered as he tried to get a hold of his thoughts.
Sherlock felt himself lift. Even if he left, for a few moments John was his. He nestled in next to the doctor, tapping out John's heart beat idly with his index finger on the man's thigh.
John felt so confused. He never imaged that he would find himself in this situation. His mind buzzed and felt extremely heavy, but he also felt so at peace with the detective nestled next to him. It felt right and wrong. It was like a dream.
"Sherlock?" John finally forced himself to speak, though he still did not know what to say.
That's when it came like the knock of a prison guard taking an inmate to death row, Sherlock lifted himself up resigned.
"I apologize I just wanted a small...moment to hang onto after you, in case you..." He trailed. "I played out all the things you're going to say, kiss me again or go out the door...Either way you don't leave her."
Even knowing it was wrong, John grabbed Sherlock in his arms, and pulled him close so that their lips were almost touching.
"I am sorry." John whispered as he pulled Sherlock closer. His lips were so soft, and the feeling was something that could not be described, but John had to have it again.
Sherlock paused inches above John, could he do this, could he cope with stealing moments like photographs and sending John back home to a wife? A wife who had been kind and understanding to Sherlock?
"It's all fine," he whispered back, of course he could, it's John. He always forgave John. In a thousand lifetimes it would always be John. He closed the distance between their lips savoring it.
John could feel that he might start crying, but he forced the tears away. He pulled Sherlock as close to him as he could. He needed this. He brought Sherlock's lower lip into his mouth, and suckled it, giving gentle nibbles.
Sherlock arched his back lightly letting his fingers run through John's hair, it was good in that moment. Sherlock could pretend this was three years ago when John wouldn't have to think of an excuse as to why he was here.
John held Sherlock's face with one hand, and his back with the other. The kiss seemed to last a life time as he gently ran his tongue across Sherlock's lip, then his teeth, then his tongue. He could not bear to pull away from the detective though every part of him was screaming it was wrong.
The need to breath could only be ignored for so long, as Sherlock broke apart he looked at John frightfully.
John's mind had shut off. His was in bliss, but also in a prison. "I..." He did not know what to say.
"I know" Sherlock finished for him. "We can pick this up another time but...you don't want to stay any longer." Never in his life has Sherlock wanted to punch himself in the face more than in that moment. John felt crushed, and as much as it killed him. Hurt him like nothing else, he knew he had to leave. "Yeah.." He agreed somberly.
Sherlock looked as though he'd been stabbed, felt it too, though in fairness he stabbed himself.
"Next time." He reminded John through a shaking smile as he headed for the door.
John looked back at Sherlock. He had come to help his friend, but he had made everything worse. As he walked down the stair case he felt like the worst human being alive.
Sherlock took a few moments, making sure John got into the cab, before curling up in John's chair by himself, rocking a little. He fished for his second phone, remembering the agreement of distracting cases, and messaged both Lestrade and Mycroft. One of them must have something.
You need to give me a case -SH