Author's Note:
I know it' short but it got to a point where I just couldn't continue. It was so perfect :3
Enjoy and Review?:)
By the time John had changed into clothes decent for public viewing, Sherlock was already a good ten minutes ahead of him. He grabbed his keys from the dish in case he couldn't find Sherlock before walking out into Baker Street. He inhaled the scent of London, picking up what could only be fish and chips. His stomach groaned but he ignored it. Right now, it was John's turn at being a detective.
Which way had Sherlock gone? Left or right? Or had he hailed a taxi? No, John hadn't heard a car pull up outside the house. Wherever Sherlock was going, he'd gone by foot. So left or Right? If he was going to the Hospital, he would have taken a left. But if he'd been going to the Hospital, he wouldn't have gone by foot.
So maybe he was meeting someone... Mycroft? John erased the idea form is brain immediately. Mycroft was not important enough to meet in the middle of the night. Lestrade? Again, not likely. Lestrade would refuse to meet Sherlock this late unless there was a worldwide disaster. Which there wasn't. Molly crossed his mind, but Sherlock had never really bothered with her. John knew she'd fly half way across the world for him, but he didn't picture Sherlock asking her to meet him. She annoyed him too much. Who else was important to him?
Irene.
So he'd taken a right. And walked half a mile to the graveyard she was buried in. Maybe he was still walking... If John was quick, he could probably get to the graveyard before Sherlock left. His feet began to move and soon he was striding through the streets of London, intent upon finding out what was wrong with his friend.
The graveyard was dark. No lights had been installed which made it difficult for John to see where he was going. On the plus side, if Sherlock was still her, it would make it harder for Sherlock to see John hiding in his chosen bush about twenty metres from the grave.
And John had been right. Sure enough, Sherlock was standing in front of Irene's grave, his hand affectionately caressing the stone.
John thought back to what Sherlock had said to him a few days before. He'd finally admitted his feelings for John. Feelings which John was beginning to have as well. But watching Sherlock at Irene's grave planted doubt into John's head. As he watched, he knew that deep down, Sherlock still loved Irene. And that shouldn't have made John's heart ache as much as it did. John sighed and listened intently to Sherlock's conversation with his dead wife.
"... But you already know that. You've had to put up with me for nearly sixteen years. I should have been a better father. I just wish I had seen it sooner. Seen you sooner. Seen Rebecca sooner. Seen you all for who you really are." Sherlock sighed, his voice caught in his throat as a tear trickled down his cheek. "Which is why I'm sorry. Because I do love you. I really do. But... I can't pretend any longer. What we had was different to what I have with him. I am sorry. And I love you. I promise I'll look after her. But I need to be with John now." He whispered the last bit and John wasn't even sure if he'd heard correctly. But John didn't care. He walked up to Sherlock and wrapped his arms around his chest.
"I'm here for you."
Johnlock:3... OOOOOhhhh I love it!