Hi dear reader! Sorry it took so long :s I don't have enough time! Please read and enjoy….
Oh and of course: I don't own or make profit! (But I wouldn't mind if BBC stole my idea for season 3…. ;)
Chapter 11. Fighting and confessing.
Sherlock was pacing back and forth through the living room. He was restless. He was angry. He couldn't wait for John to come home so he could yell at him.
Earlier that evening, he had left Scotland Yard after he had turned down Lestrade's ridiculous requests to interview a particularly stupid witness. Once at home he realized John was not with him and since he urgently needed him and his phone was switched off, he went to the local bar he knew John frequently went to for a beer with Lestrade. He saw John with what appeared to be one of his dates, while they were talking about him. More precisely, John was talking about Sherlock…. Though he had always known he wasn't the best friend or flat mate for the doctor, he still thought John liked him somehow. After everything they had been through they were still partners, flat mates, friends…. How could John say such cruel things about him to that mindless, dull, ugly woman? Well, he would tell him when he got home! John was boring. His life was boring. He would still be limping miserably around London if it wasn't for Sherlock. And oh, was he going to tell him that!
Sherlock heard the key turn in the lock at the front door. He instantly threw himself down on the couch and closed his eyes in an attempt to look relax and uninterested.
Seconds later John walked into the room.
'Hi.' He said while passing Sherlock on his way to the kitchen. Most likely to make tea.
Sherlock did not say anything.
'Did you have a nice evening?' John asked.
Again, Sherlock did not speak or move.
John was still in the kitchen and had obviously not noticed Sherlock was ignoring him.
'I had a very informative evening, especially around 7:30 tonight.' Sherlock tried to hide his anger but John must have heard it because he came out of the kitchen with a confused look.
'What?'
'You heard me.'
'What happened at 7:30?'
Sherlock snapped up and stared at John from the couch. 'You tell me?'
John's confused expression turned into an angry one. 'What do you mean you tell me? What is your problem?'
'Since I am such an insensitive and insufferable flat mate who you can't wait to get rid of, it seems more like you are the one with a problem!' Sherlock saw that John realized he just literally quoted what John had said to his date at 7:30 that evening. Unlike he expected John did not try to apologize…
'What were you doing eavesdropping on my conversation?'
'It's probably a good thing I did, because now I know what you really think about me!'
John yelled: 'What is the point in explaining if you have already made up your mind?'
Sherlock got up from the couch. 'Explain what? Why you were insulting me?'
John laughed sarcastically. 'Insulting you?'
'Yes! What were you trying to do? Make your date laugh about your intolerable flat mate? What, none of your regular jokes worked out?'
Sherlock walked towards John, anger flaming in his eyes. 'Or is insulting me and complaining about me part of your usual repertoire? I had expected you to be more grateful?'
John was angry now too. 'Grateful, Sherlock? What for?'
'Without me your life would be boring and miserable and filled with those insignificant women you date but leave the second I call for you.' Sherlock spat.
'What? What is that supposed to mean?'
Sherlock put his hands on the kitchen table between him and the doctor. 'It means, John, that despite your claim of me being insensitive and insufferable, you still prefer to be with me than with any of your dates because you know I am the reason your life isn't as dull and mind-numbing as theirs!'
BANG 'Stop it Sherlock!' John hit the table. 'Do you ever stop to consider that maybe it isn't me needing you, but you needing me!' He yelled at the detective while they were now both leaning on either side of the table. 'Do you realize I am the only friend you have and the only reason you are so insanely angry of me for taking to that woman – which was for a case by the way, Lestrade asked me to flirt and get information out of her after you offended her –' he stopped briefly to breath and then continued, 'The only reason you are so upset over that right now is because you are afraid of me leaving.'
Sherlock snorted. 'Like you would leave me for her.'
'Don't be so fucking condescending Sherlock!' John yelled in his face. He was about to say more but Sherlock was faster and louder: 'Admit it, John! All of them are boring compared to me! You don't want any of them and you know it!'
'You're just afraid I might actually find someone who loves me!'
'I love you!' Sherlock yelled.
John responded without thinking: 'No you don't! You can't! You're the most self-centered man I ever met. You only love yourself!'
Sherlock stared at him. He slowly leaned back from the table. He spoke again quietly but still full of anger: 'Maybe I should leave.'
'Allow me!' John turned around and left the kitchen, slamming the kitchen door behind him. Sherlock took a deep breath and went into his room, looking for his suitcase.
John run down the stairs. Stamping angrily on each step as he was going down. 'That arrogant bastard.' He thought to himself. 'How dare he talk to me like that. I have put up with this demeaning attitude of him for too long. Enough is enough!' John stepped down the stairs and into the hall. 'Stupid jerk!' He yanked the front door open. 'Yelling at me only because of that stupid, insignificant woman I talked to!' He closed the door and walked into the street. 'How dare he say none of those women can compete with him? Who does he think he is? Saying I will never leave him? Saying he loves me!'
…!
Wait a minute….
John stopped abruptly in the middle of the street. Had Sherlock just said he loved him? He had, hadn't he…? A car was beeping behind him but John didn't hear it. He went back to the memory of the conversation…
'You're just afraid I might actually find someone who loves me!'
'I love you!'
I love you….
I love you….
Oh shit!
John turned around and ran back to Baker Street. All around him cares were beeping now, but he ignored it! What was he going to say to Sherlock? Was this even something he wanted to talk about? How did he feel about this? John couldn't answer any of these questions to himself, but his feet were bringing him back to Baker Street faster than he had ever ran in his life….
He unlocked the door and ran up the stairs taking three steps at the time. 'Sherlock?'
He turned the corner, up the last steps and into the living room. 'Sherlock?' His flat mate was not there. He heard a sound from inside his room. John yanked the door of the detectives' room open without knocking. Inside was a mess. Clothes, mostly dressy ones, were laying all around the room and a large suitcase was open on the bed.
'What are you doing? John asked Sherlock who was in front of his closet, throwing clothes in the general direction of the suitcase.
'What does it look like I'm doing, John?' Sherlock hissed without looking at him.
'I am leaving! I had enough of this!' He yelled. 'This is clearly not an environment suitable for my work. I thought we could live here together but obviously I was wrong.'
'Sherlock…' John tried. But Sherlock ranted on without paying any attention to the doctor.
'I have put up with so much from you, John! You are boring and ignorant and I have to explain even the most simple things over and over and over to you!
'Sherlock, stop for a second!' But it was useless.
'Your limb and your depression disappeared because of me and because of the danger I brought into your life. That was me! I don't see any of your dates making your nightmares go away or contributing to your life in any meaningful way at all!'
'Sherlock!'
'I jumped of a building to protect you! And then I came back from the dead because your life was a total mess! But when I point out just how much you need me..-'
Sherlock couldn't continue because John had leaped across the room, grabbed Sherlock by his shirt and pressed his lips against the detectives'.
He kept them together for a second and then awkwardly let go.
Sherlock was stunned.
Speechless too.
He stared at John with a mix or horror and confusion.
John took a deep breath and said: 'Good. You're finally quiet. Now that I have your attention I would like to say something.' He couldn't hide the anger in his voice. 'You are not leaving. You left once and you don't get to do it again until you're actually dying, do you understand me? You are staying here and so am I, and that's the end of this.'
He walked back to the door and turned around in the opening. 'So unpack and clean up this mess!' He slammed the door behind him.
John walked into the living room. His legs were shaking and his hands were sweaty. Did he just kiss Sherlock Holmes?
Oh God!
He sank down on the couch and hid his face in his hands. What had he done? This was a disaster. Where to go from here?
'Ahum…'
John looked up and saw Sherlock standing nervously in the door opening.
Shit. He couldn't look at him. John leaned back in the couch while Sherlock sat down next to him, placing his elbows on his knees.
They didn't speak or look at each other.
John's thoughts were racing but he was definitely not going to speak.
After what seemed like an hour, Sherlock cleared his throat and spoke. 'John… I think you are probably right. I probably can't love the way other people can…'
Shit! John thought, that's what he wants to talk about?! 'Sherlock… I didn't mean..'
'Let me finish, John, or I never get through this!'
Sherlock was still leaning forward, not looking at John and speaking quickly. 'I have never loved anyone and I never felt the need to find someone to love. When I said I was married to my work I meant it! When I said I don't have friends I meant it! The way you feel about the women you date and the fact that you will find someone who will love you back some day makes me… jealous…. Because I know that perhaps I can't love or care or show affection like others, I want you to know that if I could feel any of that… if I could love anyone… it would be you, John. Only you.'
Silence.
John felt like he couldn't move. Like he couldn't breathe. He sat frozen next to Sherlock.
Sherlock fidgeted. Ruffled his hair. Glanced briefly at John.
'For God sake, say something, John!'
John forced himself to speak. His voice was more steady than he felt. 'Okay.'
'Okay, what?' Sherlock replied immediately.
'Okay for everything. When I said it's all fine I meant it.'
Sherlock stared at him and then smiled tentatively, biting his lip. 'What do we do now?' he asked.
'I don't know.' John responded.
'What will change?'
'I don't know!'
'How are we going to figure this out?'
'I don't know!'
'John, how can you not know anything?'
John smiled and placed his hand on Sherlock's. 'Because I am an idiot.'
What did you think? Should it be the last chapter? Let me know! Thank you J
