"It was never meant to end like this" Sherlock's voice wavered on the other end of the phone. John pinched the bridge of his nose before he replied. He hadn't heard from Sherlock in a month and this was the first thing he said when he picked up John's phone call for the first time since Sherlock abandoned him in the police station.
"John?" Sherlock's smooth voice cackled with static. John closed his eyes and stared at the floor, he had no idea what to say now he was talking to Sherlock. John hadn't attended Joey's funeral, he had wanted to talk to Sherlock desperately but when he put on his suit and stared at himself in the mirror he suddenly couldn't do it. He felt fake and out of place, he felt terrible thinking about it like that but he hadn't known Joey he felt like he would be a fake sitting up the front with his family pretending to think of Joey when really all he would be able to think about was Sherlock, he didn't want to see the Holmes brothers mourn. Mary had arrived ready to leave but all she found was John flicking through the TV channels in his best suit, trying to find something to occupy his mind. He had ignored Mycroft's phone calls and he and Mary sat silently in their flat nursing cups of cold tea.
"John say something or I'm going to hang up" Sherlock pried.
"Hang up then" John replied shaking his head. He didn't want to speak to him now. The phone call was made out of habit, he had phoned him repeatedly since he hadn't turned up for Joey's funeral and now that Sherlock picked up he realized he didn't want to talk to him. He had made John's life hell this past month, he was angry with him for making himself so important to John. Sherlock hung up. John stared at the phone in his hand.
"Did he answer?" Mary asked handing him his plate of Chinese. John shook his head and threw his phone on the sofa.
"John don't worry about him so much, he can handle this"
"No he can't" John spat back placing the Chinese on the coffee table uneaten. His phone buzzed to life, John grabbed his phone throwing Mary off balance as she sat down, she complained as John shushed her and answered the phone.
"What are you doing John?" Mycroft's voice was firm and unforgiving, he was angry.
"Is it Sherlock?" Mary asked flicking the TV off and sitting up straighter, both plates of Chinese were abandoned. John shook his head.
"For God Sake John say something to him. You have been ringing him nonstop for three days now, you missed our brother's funeral; you have no idea what you are doing to him"
"What I'm doing to him!" John said standing suddenly and throwing his hands in the air, Mary followed ready to calm him down. "Sherlock abandoned me in that bloody police station, you both did and now you expect me to think this is all my fault for making him feel bad"
"John you can't think him ignoring you is because of you!" Mycroft yelled down the phone. John was taken aback he had never heard Mycroft raise his voice "If you don't want to be civil about this then you have no right calling Sherlock when you know how hard it is for him to answer, leave Sherlock alone John. I am warning you now" Mycroft hung up and John listened to the beep of the receiver. He felt childish; his cheeks were heating with anger and embarrassment. He felt pathetic for searching for a reason to hate Sherlock because he believed he needed one. Mary took the phone from his hand and placed it on the coffee table. John ran a hand over his face. "I'm not hungry, I'm going to bed"
"John" Mary called after him but John ignored her. He felt childish suddenly, searching endlessly for a reason to ignore Sherlock but calling him up like a four year old would pester another only to bully him. Jesus John thought he threw himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was just making this worse for Sherlock, of course Sherlock wouldn't answer his phone he had been stuck in trials almost twenty-four seven. He was the one abandoning Sherlock now, Sherlock had made a mistake and now John wouldn't let him fix it. He was being just like everyone else, he knew Sherlock better than anyone but it didn't mean anything if he wasn't there for him at his worst. John rolled over and spotted Mary's phone on her bedside table he grabbed it and dialed Mycroft's number.
"Mary?" Mycroft said in a bored voice.
"Can I talk to Sherlock?" John asked as he stared at the ceiling. Mycroft didn't say anything there was a long pause in which John considered hanging up.
"John" came Sherlock's voice.
"Sherlock" John replied. Sherlock sniffed but didn't say anything "I'm so sorry"
"You did what anyone else would do" Sherlock said, he seemed to have regained control of his voice. Sherlock hung up and before John knew it he was putting his shoes on and grabbing his jacket. 'Where are you going?" Mary asked rushing from the kitchen "It's almost midnight"
"Fixing things" John said closing the door behind him.
The Holmes manor was much more daunting, John paid the cabbie and made his way up the long gravel driveway. He was expecting the house to still be damaged but the entrance way had been repaired and the house was in better condition than when John first saw it. He reached the front door and knocked on the huge oak door. Someone john didn't know answered the door,
"Mr Watson" the small old man replied. He was much shorter than John and he was dressed in his pyjamas. He looked outside to see if anyone was behind him. "Bit late" he said relaxing slightly.
"Sorry we haven't met" John said. The old man chuckled.
"I'm Winston; I looked after the Holmes and their household many years ago. I was in retirement but Mycroft phoned me with an emergency and there is no one he trusts more with Sherlock and himself than me" he said this with pride as he guided John to the sitting room. "Mycroft will be with you shortly, I'm going back to bed" he gestured to a seat and John accepted. It wasn't Mycroft who entered it was Sherlock. It was like déjà vu all over again. He had started to get better in the month and a half he was with John but that had changed. The dark circles had returned and it was clear Sherlock hadn't been eating much. He was still wearing his suit, he hadn't been sleeping either than.
"It's late John what are you doing here" Sherlock said, he didn't sit down. He hovered by the door, avoiding John.
"You hung up on me"
"So you drove to the middle of nowhere at midnight because I hung up on you?" he asked. John nodded. The room fell silent
"You won't get to see me again John" Sherlock said. He stared at the fire "I will be thrown in jail, I put most of those people in there, they will kill me as soon as I walk in the door" The fire flickered in his eyes. "I know" John replied. Sherlock looked up at him suddenly, like he hadn't expected him to say that. He finally sat down still staring at the fire. "You could have lied and told me otherwise" he said looking to John.
"I know but you would see through that lie and then tell me how you did" John said not really thinking about what he was saying. Sherlock made a choking noise and John was about to rush to him but as he looked up he realised Sherlock was laughing. John felt something rise inside him but it wasn't panic and it was anger. It was something he hadn't felt in a while. It was happiness, he laughed with Sherlock.
"I don't know what to say John" he said still laughing softly. John shrugged
"That's a first" he said looking at him. Sherlock smiled and looked back at the fire. It was starting to die, the embers burned brightly and popped now and then.
"Thank you John" he muttered "For everything" John nodded in reply and stood.
"Are you okay?" John asked, he knew it was a stupid question but he had asked a lot of those lately
"I only said thank you" Sherlock said laughing of John's concern, John shook his head "No I know I mean, after this, after everything." Sherlock looked up at John and stared at him for a while, searching him for sincerity. The tension seemed to build and John knew what he was going to say before he said it.
"No" he said simply "but it doesn't matter"
"It matters Sherlock" John said firmly staring at him "why do you think it doesn't?"
"Because how I'm feeling doesn't affect anyone, or the world, the world doesn't care if Sherlock Holmes is not okay."
"Forget about the world Sherlock, it affects me. It affects Mycroft and Mrs Hudson, Molly and Lestrade and it affects you and to some people you are part of their world" John had never realized he was so good at motivational speeches. Sherlock stared at John, it would never fully sink in John understood that, Sherlock didn't understand sentiment and he may never understand how much he meant to others, but it didn't mean John would stop telling him how much he meant to him. Sherlock smiled. "The fly in the ointment" he started
"The grit on the lenses" John finished. Sherlock laughed softly and held out his hand, the two shook hands before Sherlock turned and walked away, he hovered in the doorway.
"Sentiment" he laughed "I have studied it, but I never understood it until now" he turned to face John and flashed a smile, John smiled back and then he was gone.
"Goodbye Sherlock" John whispered to himself.
Fin