John lay in bed two weeks after New Year's Eve and decided it was time to call in the big guns.
He threw on a jumper and dashed out the door.
"Well dear, I'm so glad you've dropped by for some tea!" said Mrs. Hudson, smiling warmly.
In spite of his mood, John couldn't help but grin back. Mrs. Hudson was more cunning than she looked, and he was certain that she knew the real reason behind his visit.
"Now, drink up, and tell me everything. I must admit, I knew something must be up when I heard Sherlock humming last week. It was only a matter of time before you came knocking. So, what is it this time? It must be something awful, if he's this happy!"
"He told me he loved me."
John thought he heard a pin drop in the distance.
"Oh, John!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson, "I – well I hardly know what to say! That's wonderful, darling! But what could possibly be the matter with that?"
The words burst out of his mouth before he could hold them back. "Well, nothing, except for the tiny detail that I don't think I'm capable of falling in love!" He turned away, blushing madly, and hurried to explain the whole story.
When he had finished telling her all about his family and the feeling of terror that had been pounding through his veins ever since he'd felt Sherlock's lips against his, he took a large gulp of tea and covered his face with his hands.
A warm hand gripped his shoulder with surprising strength, and John looked up to see that Mrs. Hudson had moved closer. "John Watson. You are a wonderful man, and it breaks my heart to hear what you have been through. But you must remember that Sherlock is not your father. Certainly, you have been scarred by your experiences, but choosing to trust Sherlock with your heart is not a mistake. Would you like to know a secret, John?"
John glanced up, tears prickling his eyes and threatening to spill over as he nodded.
"Sherlock Holmes does not love easily. In fact, I have never once heard him say the word out loud…oh, it is written in the way he protects me, and even in the childish fights he picks with Mycroft. But for him to have spoken those words out loud to you, John...well, I think it means even more than you could possibly know. You could very well be the first person to have received those words from Sherlock. And dear – you know him better than anyone. You trust him with your friendship, with your life…why do you hesitate to trust him with your heart?"
John felt the tears escape his eyes and blushed even deeper. "I…I don't know, Mrs. Hudson. You're absolutely right. I do trust him with my life. He is a marvel…the most incredible man I have ever known. To think that he has chosen to love me, well…you're absolutely right. Thank you."
They spoke quietly for a few more minutes, and when John had finished his tea, he turned to leave. As he was walking out the door, he heard her calling softly after him.
"Your memories are a part of you, John. But don't let them turn you into stone."
He smiled gently and walked out of the flat, his head held high.
When he entered 221B, Sherlock was sitting at the kitchen table, engrossed in his note-taking.
John walked up behind him and placed a soft kiss at the top of his head, lingering long enough to feel the brush of Sherlock's dark curls on his cheek.
"Mmmm," hummed Sherlock, turning to glance at him. "What was that for?"
"No reason." said John, staring at Sherlock and sending a million messages through the gleam in his eyes.
Because you are my best friend. Because you saved my life, and you continue to save it every day. Because you are worth the risk. Because I do love you, and I promise to say it as soon as I can.
Sherock stared back, his eyes full of hope and wonder.
