I wake up the next morning and find Sherlock sitting on the end of the bed playing the violin. He is playing a song that I don't recognize, but it is comforting and soothing. The early morning light from the window gives the room a dreamlike quality. I sit up and crawl over to him. I wrap both my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his right shoulder.
"…Morning."
"Morning, John. Did you sleep well?"
"I did, for once."
"No nightmares?"
"None."
"That's good."
Sherlock stops playing the violin.
"No."
"What?"
"Continue."
"Oh, alright."
I kiss Sherlock's cheek, and he blushes. As I listen to the music of the violin, I fall asleep resting on Sherlock's shoulder.
I wake up alone in the bedroom. Sherlock is nowhere to be found. The room is dark. I get up and put some clothes on.
I walk to the kitchen to find that the glass and blood from the day before has been cleaned up. 'Must be Sherlock's doing.' I think to myself. I look at the kitchen table, and there is an empty cup. I walk over to it, and there is a note.
John,
Gone out to get milk, and visit Molly at the morgue. Be home soon.
-Sherlock
I put the note in my pocket, and walk to the window. It is snowing outside. I start shivering, so I decide to make a fire.
I wake up to someone moving the hair out of my face. My back hurts. 'What is happening? Oh, I must have fallen asleep in front of the fire…'
I look up to find the beautiful face of my detective.
"Hello sleepyhead," he says in the very low-pitched voice he knows I love.
"Hey Sherlock." I look around. "What time is it?"
"11:15pm."
"What? I made a fire this morning…"
"When I found you, you were out cold. You looked so peaceful- I didn't want to disturb you."
"Thanks, Sherlock. I guess I didn't get much sleep last night…"
"Yeah… About that..." Sherlock looks away from me.
"What is it?"
"I can't do this, John-"
"Do what?"
"Open myself up to you like this. What you want, it's impossible."
"Sherlock-"
"John… Last night was a mistake."
"No… No it wasn't! Sherlock- you don't even know what you're saying!"
"I'm afraid I do, John." Sherlock stands up.
"Sher-"
"I have to go, John. I need… I need to…"
"You need what? What… do you need?" I feel tears run down my cheeks. I stand up quickly and try not to break down and sob. 'I've wanted this for so long.. He has to know how much this relationship means to me… He has to know...'
"John, please don't… cry… I need to take a-"
"You need to take what?!"
"A break."
"From what?!"
"You."
"Why?"
"John…"
"Please. Don't go again. Please, Sherlock… Not again…" I grab Sherlock's coat with both my hands and pull him to me. "Sherlock…"
'I need to kiss him…'
"No, John…" Sherlock removes my hands from his coat.
"No…" I whisper. He walks away leaving me standing in front of the fire. I suddenly feel cold. Very cold.
Sherlock isn't by my side, and I feel horrible. I feel incomplete without him.
"Sherlock!"
I get up, and stumble to the open door. I look around outside for a sign of Sherlock. Snow is coming into the room, but I don't care. I slam the door shut behind me, and run into the night. I see Sherlock in the distance walking away from the flat. He is a couple blocks away. We are the only people on the street. I decide to call out to him.
"Sherlock!"
He looks back toward me and then starts running. I run fast to catch up with him. We eventually make it to the park near 221b. Sherlock stands next to this really tall tree- out of breath. I catch up to him and grab the sleeve of his coat.
"You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere. I need… an explanation."
"John-"
"Don't you dare leave me like that again."
He remains silent.
"Sherlock, do you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Then say something!"
"I just did."
"Look, I don't really like sassy Sherlock."
He looks away from me.
"Alright, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"Then what's the problem?! Why did you run away like that?"
"I haven't been in a relationship before… I don't know what to do. What if I do something wrong- or say something wrong- and then you leave me? What if you get to know the real me and find out that you don't like it? What if-"
"Don't think about the 'what ifs'. I love you for 'you'. Sure, we may fight sometimes, but I will never stop liking you- and I will certainly never leave you."
"How am I supposed to believe that, John?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't all couples say that, and it rarely works out?"
"Well, it does work for some people."
"Okay."
"What kind of a response is that?" I laugh, trying to lighten up the mood- but Sherlock still has a dark look on his face.
"John. I… got a text today."
"That has nothing to do with what we're talking about." I say, annoyed.
He gives me a look that basically means, 'Shut up, this is important.'
"I got a text-" he repeats.
"From who? Lestrade?"
"No. Jim."
"Moriarty?!"
"Shh."
"But, Sherlock!"
"Lower your voice."
"Why?"
"He told me that he was coming to the flat. I wanted to get you out of there as fast as possible, but I also didn't want to alarm you. I walked back into the flat, but when I saw you lying there I realized something."
"What?"
"You looked so perfect sleeping there, and I thought about how horrible I am- how I endanger everyone's lives… I thought about how I didn't want that to happen to you."
"Sherlock-"
"So I said that I needed a break… knowing that you would quickly follow me. I didn't expect that he would too."
"Why did you want me to keep my voice down?" I ask.
"Because… Moriarty is standing right over there."
