Sherlock never understood why people said a heart could "break". It was a strange expression, feelings and emotions were all regulated in the brain, the heart was nothing but a pump to keep blood flowing through the veins of the body, the heart has nothing to do with it.
But when John's voice calmly formed that one word, Sherlock felt his heart shatter. He bowed his head again, and bit back a sob.
"Sherlock, we talked about this, Harry's been nagging me about not visiting her for over two months, it's just for the weekend." John said gently.
"Right." Sherlock croaked, feeling uncomfortable, but very relieved. "You'll come home Sunday?" he asked, hoping to confirm the relieve was justified. John nodded in agreement, but the worried expression didn't leave the doctor's face.
"Please, Sherlock, tell me what happened." John whispered.
The detective swallowed, but didn't react otherwise. He didn't want to make John plea, but he couldn't explain what had happened at the crime scene, the words were stuck in his throat.
"Look at me, Sherlock." John ordered, apparently he had decided that he needed a more direct approach.
Sherlock looked up, tears still evident on his cheeks.
"You are going to leave." He insisted quietly, avoiding John's eyes, but still facing the other man.
"Why do you think that?" John asked exasperated. `
"I know I'm a horrible person to live with John." Sherlock said quietly.
"And you also know that I can put up with that, so why do you think I'm going to leave?"
"Because you're still going on dates!" Sherlock spat out, covering his sadness under a layer of venom. He knew it wouldn't end well, it didn't end well when he did it during the Baskerville case either, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it.
The surprise was evident in John's body language. He had backed away just a few centimetres, and his expression became slightly rigid.
"Well, yeah..." He started, but he didn't finish the sentence, because Sherlock gave him a pointed look. "What has that got to do with anything?" John asked.
Sherlock scoffed, as if he couldn't believe John didn't understand something so simple.
"People go on dates with the intention to find someone to share the rest of their lives with!" he snapped. "You and I've got a life together, you like rushing off into danger together, solving cases with me, but you don't intend to stay, because you. Are. still. Dating. People."
Sherlock watched as John tried to process what had just happened. He hugged himself again, staring at his feet. This was tedious, he just couldn't figure out what was going on in John's head, and not knowing agitated him to no end.
"I guess I'm just afraid." John whispered softly. Sherlock jerked his head up, staring at John with a calculating gaze.
"Of what?" He asked. John sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead.
"Sherlock, you are a genius. You can tell peoples life by their left thumb, solve cases the police can't even begin to understand, but you live for puzzles and games. And then there's me, I'm just an ex-army doctor, not anywhere near as intelligent as you are, certainly not special. You'll grow bored of me. And I think I just don't want to be alone when that happens."
For once, Sherlock was truly surprised. How could he ever grow bored of John? The man was full of contradictions, he was a doctor, but he graved the thrill of the battle field, where people lost their lives. He was always working to save people, but didn't hesitate to kill people if necessary.
"Why would I ever grow bored of you?" Sherlock asked. Had he really given John that impression?
"There's no way I would ever grow bored of you, you are so full of surprises. Every time I think I've gotten you all figured out, you do something to surprise me, and put my whole theory upside down. I'll never be able to figure you out completely. Besides, even if I will, one day, you'll never bore me."
He added.
John smiled at him, and Sherlock felt the worry lighten.
"You are my one true friend, John, the only one who could see through the mask. Don't forget."
"Come here, Sherlock." John said, and as the detective scooted closer, John wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a comfortable hug.
Sherlock calmed down as John simply sat there with him. He was doing almost exactly the same as Mrs. Hudson had done, but this time the rubbing on his shoulders actually worked to relax him.
"It's not that I didn't need this talk, Sherlock, but what happened on the crime scene to bring this on?" John asked gently.
Sherlock let out a breath.
"I had solved the case, it was a rather easy one, and as I left, Anderson felt the need to point out I was alone." He said.
"Didn't you bite back?" John asked surprised. Sherlock shrugged leaning into John's touch just a little bit more.
"What he said was... triggering." He muttered. "I shut down."
John nodded. "I'm going to pay him a visit at the yard tomorrow." He said in a low voice. The doctor gently got out of their embrace, and walked over to the table, picking up his phone.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, a bit irritated at the sudden lack of touch. John selected a number and lifted the phone to his ear. He turned to Sherlock and smiled.
"I just need to inform Harry that there will be two guests instead of one."
A/N: Tada! This is a bit fluffy to make up for the ending of last chapter. I was just horrible right? I guess I understand why Mofat likes cliff hangers so much. Anyway, I don't own Sherlock, don't make any money out of this, it's just for fun. I think I'll write a chapter about John confronting Anderson, and maybe a sequel, but I'm not too sure about it yet. Leave a comment if you want either, or just want to say what you think.