"John's here." Anderson breaths a sigh of relief at the appearance of my blonde companion.
"How are you two getting on?" John smiles at the sour expression on my face.
"I'm ready to go talk to the homeless network."
"Not until you eat." He sits down next to me. "You can go, Anderson, I've got him."
"Alright, be safe, Sherlock." Anderson spares me a soft glance before leaving.
Why do people keep doing that?
"We need to talk." John moves across from me to where Anderson was sitting. "Mycroft said you're losing weight."
Oh?
"I understand that you're still adjusting to everything, but you need to eat and take care of yourself."
So... Mycroft didn't tell him...
"What can I get you two?" Angelo comes up to the table now that John is here.
John tells him to bring us something, but I'm not sure what... I'm to busy thinking about what Mycroft did.
He didn't tell John... or does he think I'm starving myself as a form of self-harm? The latter seems more likely. I've been careful to keep the cuts hidden, perhaps I've fooled even him.
"Sherlock?" John clears his throat.
"Gavin- Greg?" I correct myself, glancing at John to be sure. "Said there aren't any cases... so why has he been working overtime?"
"What?"
"His clothes, they were wrinkled... and he hadn't called Mycroft, that's why Anderson was bringing him in."
"Sherlock, what are you getting at?" John is genuinely confused.
"Lestrade is avoiding going home to Mycroft."
"..."
"John, don't you see?"
"No, I don't... what is it?"
"How long have they been together?"
"Not sure, why?'
"What if it's their anniversary?" I'm getting excited. "What if- why are you looking at me like that?"
"Sherlock, what?" He shakes his head. "Why would he be avoiding things if it's their anniversary?"
"He missed it."
"Oh." Finally, he understands. "Why does this matter?"
"There was a bulge in Lestrade's-"
"I'm going to stop you right there." John holds a hand up. "We're not going there."
"Going where?" Now I'm the one uncertain.
"Greg is not cheating."
"I never said he was..."
"Than what bulge- never mind... just... no, we're not going there."
"What are you- oh... you thought I meant-"
"Leave it alone."
"Alright."
"No, where were you going?" Something changes in John's expression, there's a pained look.
"Did I upset you, John?"
"What- no, no... just tell me were you were going with the... bulge..."
"There was a bulge in his coat pocket... he missed their anniversary because..." Quickly, I take my phone out and check my calendar. "..."
"Because, why?"
"Because he was with me." I'm upset with myself now. "He was going to propose last night... but he was with me."
"He was going to... are you sure?" He now sounds pained.
"He and Mycroft came over because I was being... uncooperative, and he didn't get to propose on their anniversary."
"Oh hell." John wipes a hand down is face.
"It would seem I've cost Lestrade his golden opportunity... just like I cost you yours..." I look away from John.
"We're not doing that." He reaches and takes hold of my hand, I stiffen slightly and wait for the impending pain... but nothing comes.
When I glance up to John he looks sad.
"I'm sorry." My voice is barely audible to my ears.
"Listen to me." He lifts his other hand towards my face, I flinch squeezing my eyes shut tightly.
What happens shocks me, his touch isn't harsh, he just gently cups my cheek.
"I'm sorry." My eyes open slowly to see tears in his eyes.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing."
"But, John, I-" The words stop when I remember how stupid I am.
"Sherlock, please." His voice breaks. "Stop beating yourself up, nothing that happened was your fault, you did what you had to, and no one has the right to be angry with you over that."
No words, no clever sayings come to mind. My instincts tell me that I should be running, that I need to get away before he realizes what I am and hurts me... but I'm frozen in place, time stands still and I feel... I feel... Confused.
John drops his hand from my face, and retracts his hand from mine.
"You'll be okay." He whispers. "We're going to be alright."
I nod, hoping and praying that he's right.
Clearing my throat, I file away our conversation for later. "How did your conversation with Mycroft go, aside from... that."
"It went alright, he was a bit of a pain in the arse." This causes both of us to laugh before returning to silence.
What if he's right? What if John is right... what if things will be alright?