Just a quick note, someone asked when Sherlock had after been near a bomb, with Moriarty and he ended up draped over John's legs. This was just an adjustment I made to the finale of the great game, Sherlock shot the bomb, John pushed him out of the way and Sherlock was knocked unconscious and fell on top of John. Sorry if it confused anybody:)
I'm fairly sure you're gonna hate me at the end of this chapter but oh well :)
Oh God. Oh God, what had he done. John was leaving, leaving. And Sherlock was about to let him go. No that could not happen, it didn't matter what he had said, he could fix it, John would forgive him, John always forgave him. But the things he had said! John had looked devastated before he had controlled his expression and it pulled at Sherlock knowing that he had put that look on John's face. His limp as well, he had had no idea that John's mental state hinged so heavily on him and now that he had said those things it was back.
He was an utter idiot. He was brought out of his inner flagellation by a buzzing coming from the table in front of him, he had a text.
I know sometimes you are oblivious to human emotion put please tell me you plan to fix this.-MH
As much as it disgusted him to say it, Mycroft was right, Sherlock had to do something or else he would lose the best thing that had ever happened to him; John would leave and he would never see him again. It had never occurred to him that John was the best thing to ever happen if his life, did that mean that he harbored feelings for him that went beyond friendship? He thought it was a fairly safe bet to make but now was not the time to contemplate this, it would likely become an issue later on but for now he had bigger problems.
Turn off the cameras and the microphones, this has nothing to do with you-SH
As you wish brother-MH
Abandoning his phone, Sherlock jumped up from the chair and quietly made his way up the stairs, his arm twinged as he did so but he ignored it. Getting closer to John's door, he could hear and soft sound coming from the other side, at first he thought John was sleeping and then realized that he could hear mumbled, barely coherent words,
"Stupid, stupid, idiot. What did you expect him to do, beg you to stay? No of course he wouldn't and now because you wanted to be vain and know what Sherlock felt about you, you've single handedly ruined the best thing that's ever happened to you, idiot."
John was inside that room, crying and berating himself and all Sherlock could do was stare at the door as if it held the answers to the universe. He had done this, he had made brilliant, immovable John cry. Imagining John on the other side of the door made Sherlock resolve strengthen and he knocked timidly.
Almost immediately, the soft noises stopped and he heard John move around, "John, I need to talk to you. May I come in?"
It took a little while for John to answer but when he did Sherlock heard the waver in his voice, "No Sherlock, I'd rather you didn't. I'm packing and I'll be out of your hair soon." John's voice broke halfway through and he cleared his throat once he had finished talking.
"Ok then, I'll wait out here until you're ready to let me in. I came to apologize. The things I said to you just now were harsh and uncalled for, I truly am sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He could hear John's breathing but there was no sign on him moving closer to the door to open it and let Sherlock in.
"Okay Sherlock, thank you I suppose. I'm going to get back to packing now if that's all?" Even emotionally stunted Sherlock knew that wasn't enough of an apology for the things he had said so he tried again.
"No John it's not. I said that I didn't need you and that was true-"
"Sherlock, if you are just coming to reiterate all that you just said, you don't need to worry, I got it all the first time."
"No John, if you would just listen, I don't need you here literally because I am smart enough alone but I do need you here in the sense that I would be attacked by officers at the Met if you didn't stop me saying something overly harsh, even if they are all morons. I need you because you keep me sane when we don't have a case, you make me eat and drink and you're much better company than the skull so please, I need you to not leave. I need you to stay here."
He heard an intake of breath from the other side of the door and slow steps heading in his direction, he stepped back as the door was opened, not wanting to crowd John. The John that pulled open the door was not the John he knew, he had puffy red eyes from crying and he looked tired,
" I swear Sherlock, you need to tell me if you are lying because I could not handle it if you were."
Sherlock took a small step closer and looked John in the eye as he said, "John, I promise you I'm telling the truth." John searched his face and his shoulders relaxed as he apparently found what he was looking for.
"Good because I really don't want to leave. I'm sorry too for saying you did nothing for me, you saved my life without even knowing, when I first met you I was about a day away from eating a bullet and you gave me something to live for."
The moment was loaded and something changed in the eye contact they were sharing, Sherlock suddenly realized what was happening, John was leaning closer to him and his eyes were sliding shut.
He couldn't do this, it was too soon, he wasn't even sure what this was, he had never done this before. Without even realizing what he was doing, he was putting his hands to John's chest and pushing him backwards.
"John, I-" He didn't know what to say but John took care of it for him.
"Sherlock, it's ok. Just forget about it." John then leaned up and kissed his cheek but turned away quickly turning a deep shade of red. Sherlock couldn't believe it but he could feel his face warming up as well, however, the realization of what had just happened really hit him and he pulled away breaking the moment.
"I'm going to go get dressed and text Lestrade to see if he has any new cases. I'll just-" He ran away before John could see the conflict on his face.
It was days later when he was alone in his room finally giving in to sleep that he realised that John had leaned to kiss him. John wanted to kiss him. What did this mean? Did John want something more? Even if that was the case, could Sherlock step up to the plate? He wasn't so sure.
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