Thank you everyone! Cloak, there's a letter fr you at the end, please be kind enough to go through.

John had no idea what to expect from Greg. Like he didn't have any idea how to explain why he was accepting Mycroft's request and to what end.

So when John was met with a very silent, brooding Greg sitting across the table in a well known coffee shop he was torn between resenting telling him the truth and the relief of being able to drop the deception.

There was a deep frown on Greg's forehead, he sat cross legged looking away from John. He looked complete different than what he had looked before to John. This brooding silent man was altogether a new and not very encouraging Greg to behold.

After a long silent while, which has had a distressing effect on John's nerves, Greg shook his head slightly and spoke very softly, as if whispering.

"I don't understand this." There was confusion and bewilderment in Greg's voice. "You knew him."

John let go of the breath he was holding, his shoulders hunched forward tiredly. "Yes, like I said, he was my patient."

Again Greg shook his head and said looking up "No, not like you said."

John stayed silent. He felt sorry, for what exactly he didn't know. But that sick heavy feeling of being guilty, of expecting a just punishment, of a foreboding of something unavoidable filled his chest. He couldn't look Greg in the eyes.

"Do you have feelings for Sherlock Homes?" Greg asked flatly, his voice betraying his emotions.

John's head snapped up at the abrupt sharpness of the question. Before he could think his lips were moving on their own accord.

"Greg I don't have an idea how to explain this to you."

"I think I have." Said Greg, contemplating.

"I came in your life, exactly at the time, when you thought Sherlock had refused you." Greg said explaining calmly.

John wanted this to end. He wanted Greg to hit him, yell at him, accuse him do anything that would end the matter then and there and not be prolonged with questions John didn't have any answers to.

"Is that why you were there at that bar that day?"

For the first time in his life John resented being honest. He should have known better, they were not in a position to handle such complication. It was too early, too messy, too abrupt.

John's silence was answer enough for Greg "Oh my god." A devastated whisper came out of his mouth. John felt something snapped in Greg, before he could start to speak, before he could think, Greg was up from his seat and making for the door.

For the first time since he had met Greg John felt an overwhelming need to hold on to him. Whatever doubts he had about his own feelings for this man was gone in that profoundly enlightening moment.

John couldn't afford to lose Greg. He ran after him.

Greg was already out on the street and John stumbled out of the door, the cold air hitting hard on his face establishing the fact further that the overwhelming feeling to hold Greg back was not a passing element of emotion. Greg had nestled deep within.

"Greg stop." John cried standing at the door halting Greg's progress. He could see by the way Greg's shoulders were moving that he was hyperventilating.

"Don't." John said in a hushed voice.

Greg turned and came close to grab him by the shoulders and wrenched him away from the doorway.

The signs of hurt, anger, disbelieve mingled with tiredness, despair and utter hopelessness were vividly displayed over Greg's features and demeanour.

All John could think was to stop the man from leaving, he didn't know how or with what, he just felt the need to be as urgent as breathing.

Greg shook John "Where do I stand John? What am I to you?" all emotions dripping from his hoarse voice.

John stated the only fact he knew for true at that moment "I don't want you to leave. Just give me some time to figure this out?" Please.

Greg let go of John's shoulders, A look of utter exhaustion took over his features. "And what if you figure out that you don't need me? that I don't stand a chance? "

"I would have told you that by now." His own reason ringed ridiculous in John's ears, but he was above reasoning now, he said whatever his subconscious supplied his mouth with. There were no filters between.

But there was no hope in Greg's voice "Then why do you need time?" He asked pleadingly.

Both John's subconscious and his mouth gave out. He stood like a statue. He felt hope leaving his body as blood seeps out of an open wound.

Greg stood there, tired, haggard, coming apart. He ran his hands through his already messed hair and took a deep breath. "John, I need to know where I stand with you." He said with some effort. "And if you were wondering where you stood with me? I need you."

There, Greg had said it, he had meant it, it was done. John knew he needed to respond, he had to or else all will be lost. Yet all he could do is to reach out a hand as if to cling on to those words.

It didn't work. Greg didn't understand. He took a long, pained look at John, as if trying to memorise all that was on his face and turned to leave.

"Whatever you do John, if you want him to stay, don't tell him the whole

truth." Harry had said on the previous conversation.

"I don't know the whole truth." John had replied.

Here, now, standing so close to losing, in proximity with giving up, John realised if not the whole, Greg at least constituted half of it.

"Is that all Greg? All we had? That's all the trust you can have in me?" Finally, finally his head, heart and mouth started to work in tandem.

It was able to turn the man around. Greg came back and swept John in a breath taking overwhelming kiss. There was such force and finality in it that John's eyes welled up, but before any drop was split, the kiss had ended.

Just as abruptly Greg turned around and left.

John stood there looking at his back. The safe Greg smell, the faint minty smell of that mouth, the warm trusting feeling of the body against his own were all going away. Leaving, leaving him on that cold, lonely street, in the dark, in tears.

John wanted to wail, he needed to wail. He didn't know if this was the last time he was seeing Greg.

Dear Cloak,

I wish I could PM you because this is a very personal message written only for you and not an author's note.

You are right, some parts of the story are shoved since I have started writing again. when I first conceived this story it overwhelmed me, so much that I just wanted to write it down and be done with it in 10 to 15 chapters. Then, as time progressed, I found that too many people liked this story and it would be unfair if I just end it like that. I had to go through the overwhelming feeling to keep writing over and over again.

Then life changed in certain ways including a change of city. I lost touch with my stories. When I tried coming back to them, I didn't feel the connection anymore. I had to read them more than once to remind myself what I was writing.

The recent few chapters of this story (excluding the last one) could have been summed up in one chapter, but it was a process of getting acquainted with this story again. As I started uploading again and people started reading and telling me they liked it, the connection resumed.

I can feel overwhelmed again while writing it. me and my story are one again. I am sorry for the lack of connection in a few chapters. It's just in the process of healing a broken relationship. It needs time and care. while I can provide with the time, it's you and the other readers I am counting on to provide the care.

I hope not to disappoint any of you further.

Thank you all.

Thank you cloak for letting me speak. May I expect a reply?

Yours Rumjhum.