The next chapter! I hope you like it and please let me know what you think! And thanks to everyone who read the last chapter and left a review, you're awesome!
I don't own the characters or places!
Hours later, John was still sitting on the floor right in front of Sherlock's door. He was still playing the violin and it didn't seem like he would stop any time soon.
John's back was hurting and he began to feel tired, but forced himself to keep his eyes open. However, as time went by, it became more and more difficult. He was also hungry since he didn't eat anything since lunch, but ignored that feeling. Most probably, Sherlock was also starving by now. He was still taking painkillers, which would make everything even worse...
When the music finally stopped, it was nearly eleven pm. John groaned and got to his feet, but he had to get hold of the doorframe. Otherwise, he would have stumbled. "Sherlock?" He called loudly, but as expected, there was no answer.
"Sherlock, can we talk?" He waited for a few moments, but again nothing.
John sighed loudly. "We really have to talk, Sherlock. I'm not saying this to you through the door. We can also do it tomorrow, if you want. I'm going to bed now." He wanted to walk towards his room and hesitated. "Make sure you eat something, with all those painkillers it isn't good for your stomach. And get some sleep."
Later, John was lying in bed and stared at the ceiling. Even if he'd kept repeating Mycroft's words in his head for hours now, he still couldn't believe it. Sherlock Holmes had feelings for him. Maybe John wouldn't have believed Mycroft if he didn't see Sherlock's reaction. However, the way Sherlock had acted, with that shocked and concerned look on his face, made everything perfectly clear. He was feeling something for John. And it scared him.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have run away, John was sure of that. But this was about feelings and when there was something Sherlock was completely horrible with, it were those. Dealing with others had never been easy for him and now this...
John cursed inwardly. The next time he saw Mycroft Holmes, he would have a word with him and it wouldn't be nice. Maybe he should make sure that Mycroft didn't have that umbrella close by then... And Anthea, of course. She always protected him.
He didn't want it to be like this. John had planned to tell Sherlock about his feelings one day, now that he got him back. However, not in this way. Also not so soon. He wanted to take his time, be sure of Sherlock's feelings first. It wouldn't have been easy, but John would have solved that riddle, he was sure of that.
Now Mycroft had destroyed all his plans. John feared that Sherlock was going to avoid him from now on, too afraid of his reaction to that knowledge. He still felt guilty for reacting that way, he gave Sherlock the wrong impression... What must he think of John now? That he was disgusted by this? Most probably not, John had already told him that he was gay. But maybe that he didn't return his feelings? Yeah, that could be possible. Maybe also that John would leave him now?
He sighed loudly, knowing that it wouldn't be of any use to keep thinking of this. He could do this all night and still not know what he was going to say to Sherlock once the other man stopped avoiding him.
John knew that he needed sleep. He was already incredibly tired, but something felt just wrong. When he realized what it was, he laughed dryly. The other half of his bed was empty. How did he get used to Sherlock's presence after a few nights?
It took him more hours to fall asleep and when he did, nightmares were haunting him.
First, John saw the same scene as every night. Sherlock on that rooftop, ready to say goodbye. He knew that conversation by heart and even if he also knew what was going to come after that, it still shocked him. Like every night.
He held Sherlock in his arms and pleaded for him not to be dead, but then the scene shifted. However, this time John didn't see Moriarty again. Instead, he was in an unknown room, or at least he believed so at first.
Soon, he realized that it was the room he'd first met Sherlock in. And there he was, looking through a microscope thoughtfully and unaware of John's presence. He was a few years younger than now and there were less worry lines on his face, but otherwise, he was exactly the same. Suddenly, someone else began to talk and John was shocked to realize that this was the first time he'd met Sherlock. Why was he seeing this again?
Sherlock grinned at him. "The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street." He said before he rushed out of the room and John couldn't do anything else than to stare after him.
Again, he saw another scene. However, this seemed to be far more real. Like John could finally move and do something. He was in his flat and Sherlock was sitting in his armchair. "I thought you would never wake up, John." He said and rolled his eyes. "Don't you know how late it is?"
John sighed. "We need to talk, Sherlock." He muttered, knowing that there were far too many unspoken things between them.
"Talk." Sherlock repeated his last word, sounding annoyed. "What should we talk about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." John stated and crossed his arms. "After all, you ran away from me."
"There's nothing to say." Sherlock laughed dryly. "Or do you really think that I could like you, John? Sentiment is a chemical defect, nothing else. It surprises me that you believed a single word my brother said. Most probably, he just wants to make sure that you keep taking care of me." Slowly, Sherlock stood up. "But let me tell you one thing, John." The way he said his name made John shiver. Sherlock had never said it this coldly before. "I don't need anyone. Especially not someone like you. You're not even smart. All the cases you couldn't solve while I was gone are prove enough."
"Sherlock -" John started, but he was interrupted immediately.
"No, you'll listen to me now, Dr. Watson! I don't need you. I never have and never will. Why can't you get that into your head? And even if I would ever feel something for someone, it wouldn't be you!" He looked at John with so much disgust on his face that it made him feel sick.
"You can't mean this..." John muttered and shook his head. Everything around him started to spin and he closed his eyes. "Sherlock..."
"Don't say my name! You don't belong here, John. You should just leave."
When he could finally open his eyes again, Sherlock was already opening the door for him. "Don't think about coming back. My new flatmate will come soon." Suddenly, there were footsteps on the stairs. "Ah, I think he's already there." Sherlock said with a wide grin. The look on his face made John want to throw up.
He walked to the door slowly, but his legs felt numb. Then the other person came into view and John froze. "Did you miss me?" Jim Moriarty asked with a wide smile. "It's so good to see you again, Johnny!" He wrapped an arm around John's shoulder as if they were good friends. "Sherlock and I will have so much fun! It will be incredible, the next big game!"
He let go of his shoulders again and walked to Sherlock. To John's horror, they hugged each other. "It's so good to see you." Sherlock grinned at him. "I impatiently waited for your arrival." Suddenly, he seemed to remember that John was still there, watching them silently. "Why are you still here?" Sherlock frowned.
"Yes, shouldn't you be gone by now?" Moriarty added. "No one wants you, Dr. Watson. You're just a waste of space."
"But Sherlock, Moriarty -" John started weakly, but as expected, they interrupted him again.
"Just go now!" Sherlock yelled. "And never come back!"
The last thing John heard when he stumbled down the stairs was their laughter.
When John woke up with a scream, he was alone. He already expected the door to fly open, but everything around him was silent. His heart was beating heavily in his chest and he was shivering. "It was just a dream. Nothing else. Just a dream." He whispered to himself and tried to regulate his breathing, but it wouldn't work.
John wasn't able to calm down. He kept seeing the images from his dream every time he closed his eyes. The disgust on Sherlock's face when he looked at John. I don't need you. I never have and never will. The way he'd hugged Moriarty and how they laughed together. Even if it had just been a dream, John knew that he wouldn't forget that any time soon.
What would Sherlock do when they saw each other again? Look at him with the same disgust on his face he did in his dream? Tell him that Mycroft was wrong and that he didn't have feelings for John? Because that's what it all was about, wasn't it? If he would feel the same, he wouldn't have run away. Sherlock had always been able to read John like an open book, there was no way he could have missed this.
He sank back down onto the mattress when the realization hit him. Sherlock didn't want him. He never did. That's also why he'd refused to leave his room earlier.
John hadn't realized that he'd been crying until the first sob escaped his lips. More followed and soon, he buried his face in his pillow and cried, not caring if anyone heard him. The only person that mattered wouldn't come anyway.
He didn't know how long he'd been crying when someone entered his room. Most probably, it was just Sherlock to tell him to shut up already, so John didn't bother looking up. Suddenly, the weight on the mattress shifted and someone wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind. He tensed, but then a familiar scent hit him.
"It's alright, John." Sherlock whispered quietly. "I'm here. You don't have to cry."
John was still shivering, but he breathed in deeply to stop sobbing. Luckily, it worked. "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice sounding hoarse.
"I heard you scream and cry. I couldn't stand it any longer." So Sherlock just came to his room because he was annoyed by the noises? "I don't like hearing you crying. You shouldn't be sad, John." Or was he wrong about this and Sherlock really cared about him? The way Sherlock said his name now was so different from his dream. Sherlock's voice was so soft, it sounded like John was someone important to him.
"It was just a dream." He whispered weakly, mostly to convince himself of this.
"Did you see me again?" Sherlock asked softly.
"Yes." However, John had no intention to tell Sherlock of that dream. Most probably, he would never do that.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
John shook his head. "I can't." To his surprise, Sherlock moved even closer to him.
"I'll never leave you, you know that? I'm not strong enough. I have never been. In those past two years, I had only one goal. Returning to you." Sherlock paused. "It's what kept me going. The thought that you'd still be here when I came back to you. I just didn't expect you to be so sad."
"You didn't know. We've talked about this, Sherlock. It's fine." John would have loved to see his face, but he didn't move in Sherlock's arms.
"I asked Mycroft to take care of you while I was gone." Suddenly, Sherlock sounded unhappy and there was a hard edge in his voice. "He didn't do it." So that's why he'd been so angry at his brother earlier.
"I don't think that he could have cheered me up." John said soothingly. "We don't get along well and you know that."
"I couldn't stand the fact that you might be alone all this time." Sherlock explained. "There was this uneasy feeling all the time, I knew that something was wrong. Even if I hoped that you'd get over it soon." He sighed deeply. "I miscalculated the situation. I should have known it the moment I saw you on the graveyard."
"It's not your fault. You couldn't have known how much your death would affect me."
"I could, I just didn't want to see it." Sherlock muttered. "I'm sorry, John."
"You already apologized, Sherlock." John threw in.
"I wanted to do it again. I still feel bad for everything I've done."
"You shouldn't. It is what it is. Let the past be, it's the future we should think about." John said softly and when Sherlock began to draw random patterns on his arm, he couldn't suppress a yawn anymore.
Sherlock chuckled. "Maybe you should sleep now, John."
"We both should. I bet you've been up all night."
"I didn't know if you'd still want me here." Sherlock whispered.
"I always do." John muttered before he fell asleep.
When John woke up, the sun was already shining into his room. He knew that it was most probably late, but he didn't care. After all, this was his free week. The events of the previous day and night were still on his mind, so he wasn't surprised to see Sherlock lying next to him when he turned around carefully.
Sherlock was already awake and watched him with a smile. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
John smiled back at him. "Why don't you tell me if I did. I bet you already know the answer to your question."
Sherlock chuckled and the sound of his voice made John shiver. "We both slept well, I guess."
John looked at Sherlock more closely. He still looked tired, most probably because he'd been awake most of the night. His curly hair was a mess and his eyes were shining when he looked at John. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt together with sweatpants. His injuries were healing slowly, which was why Sherlock didn't move that stiffly anymore. However, it would still take some time until he was completely healed again.
"What are you thinking?" Sherlock's voice ripped him out of his thoughts.
"That it will take more time until you're fine again." John said simply.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I feel much better already."
"Better isn't fine." John argued.
"We could go on cases again."
"You promised me to stay home until you're fully healed, Sherlock." His voice left no room to argue.
He sighed. "I know. Then the cold cases from Lestrade will have to do for now."
"Did you already look at them?" John asked curiously.
"Not yet." Sherlock hesitated. "I had other things on my mind."
And just like that, the relaxed atmosphere in the room was gone and replaced by tension. "Sherlock..." John started, but he shook his head.
"Let's not talk about this now." He said and avoided to look into his eyes. "Maybe we should have breakfast first. Your stomach is growling, John."
Now that he said it, John realized how hungry he was. After all, they skipped dinner. "I bet you're hungry as well." He muttered when he stood up and moved his stiff shoulders. Sitting on the ground for hours hadn't been his best idea. When he glanced at Sherlock, he noticed that the other man was staring at him. "Sherlock?"
This seemed to rip him out of his stare and he cleared his throat. "Breakfast sounds good." Sherlock muttered and stood up as well.
An hour later, they were both sitting on the couch. They didn't talk very much during breakfast and somehow, the silence had felt awkward. Not like the comfortable one that used to spread between them otherwise.
"You didn't want me to be alone with Mycroft." John began hesitantly.
"Of course not." Sherlock frowned at him as if he'd just said something very stupid. "My brother is never up to something good, especially when he wants to talk to people." When he said it like this, it sounded like talking would be the worst thing in the world.
"He planned it, you know?" John smiled slightly. "He knew that Greg would come over with cold cases and he used that moment to get you out of the way."
"He told you that?" Sherlock asked in surprise.
"I deduced that." John corrected him and slowly, Sherlock's lips turned into a wide smile.
"Was he surprised that you looked right through him?" He wanted to know.
John nodded. "He was. However, he changed the subject then..." Now the moment was there. The conversation John feared so much ever since Sherlock ran away the previous day.
"So he told you..." Sherlock began, but then he hesitated. There was a mixture of emotions on his face. Mostly, it was nervousness. "John, I'm sorry. If I'd known what Mycroft wanted to say to you, I would have never left you alone with him."
"Why didn't you tell me?" John wanted to know. Mycroft had already told him that Sherlock would never act on his feelings, but he asked the question anyway.
"I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I didn't want things to change." Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. "Don't you see how awkward this is? I never wanted it!" He looked angry now, but John couldn't tell if the feeling was directed at Mycroft or Sherlock himself. "We were always such a good team. I wanted it to stay this way. Telling you could destroy everything we have and look what it did!"
John raised his eyebrows. "So you would rather keep quiet and not tell me anything instead of risking that it would change?"
"You always told me that you're not gay! How was I supposed to say something then? It would have destroyed everything!" Sherlock sighed again.
"So you already felt something for me before... Moriarty?" He asked hesitantly.
Sherlock laughed dryly. "I felt something for you since the first time we met, John. I just didn't know what it was back then and I tried to push those feelings away."
"Because you thought that sentiment is a chemical defect." John stated.
"I only realized later that friends didn't make you weak, but stronger." Sherlock nodded thoughtfully. "You taught me that." His lips twitched. However, he turned serious again very fast. "I know that you don't feel the same, John." He muttered and now he avoided to look at him. "Can't we just... forget everything that happened yesterday? I would also understand if you want to leave now, but -"
"What?" John interrupted him and now Sherlock looked up again with wide eyes. "Why should I want to leave, Sherlock?" He demanded to know. "And I don't think that I can forget what happened yesterday."
John hated the unhappy look on his face. "I'm sorry, John..." By now, he had already realized that Sherlock didn't know about his feelings for him. He got everything completely wrong. Which wasn't a big surprise, because he was talking to Sherlock Holmes about feelings. But honestly, how could he have missed this?
"Sherlock." He interrupted him firmly. "Stop apologizing. I won't leave, I promise. I could never do that. I can't stay away from you for too long." He breathed in deeply. "But I also can't forget what happened yesterday. For a genius, you can be so blind sometimes."
Sherlock frowned at him, confusion obvious on his face. "What are you talking about?"
"You never noticed, didn't you?" John asked softly and smiled. "First, you were just my best friend, that's true. I've always been so sure of myself, I never doubted my sexuality once. Until you came into my life. I didn't notice that things changed until, one day, everything became perfectly clear. From that moment on, I was lost. And I didn't see anyone except for you." He hesitated, but then he found the courage to take Sherlock's hand. "You really never noticed?"
"I'm not... good with feelings." Sherlock muttered. "When did it change?"
John smiled. "Always so curious." He said teasingly, but when he saw the impatient look on Sherlock's face, he continued. "You might remember the day Moriarty kidnapped me and nearly killed us in that pool?"
Even after all this time, Sherlock paled when he nodded. "I've never been so scared before."
"I know." John replied softly. "It was the first time I realized that you really cared about me."
"John..." Sherlock began slowly. "What are you saying?" He still looked a little confused and John knew that his mind was racing.
"What did you hear that day on the graveyard? After the funeral." He asked back instead of answering the question.
"You asked me not to be dead. And I heard you." He said immediately.
"Anything else?" John wanted to know.
"You were whispering." Sherlock stated. "And crying. It was hard to stay hidden behind that tree, but I didn't have a choice."
John cleared his throat. "I said that I didn't know how to go on without you." He tried to sound calm, but his heart was racing in his chest. He already knew about Sherlock's feelings for him, so this shouldn't be that difficult, but it was anyway. "And that I love you."
When Sherlock had looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to now. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth several times to say something, but no words would come out. "You... love me?" He asked incredulously. "You love me?" He repeated and shook his head in disbelief.
"Always have, always will." John said with a smile. "I just never found the courage to tell you, considering that you thought of yourself as married to your work."
Sherlock chuckled breathlessly. "That was then. For me, things also changed when I met you."
"When did you realize it?" John asked curiously. "I mean, before of after I did?"
"In exactly the same moment." Sherlock whispered. "It scared me to death, seeing you there with Moriarty. And then the bomb..." He shook his head and grimaced. "One of the worst days of my life. Next to the one Moriarty threatened to kill you again."
"But he didn't." John threw in when a sad look appeared on Sherlock's face. "You were smarter than him. You won the game, Sherlock."
"At what cost?" He smiled sadly. "I nearly destroyed you in the process. My absence -"
"Is nothing we'll talk about right now." John interrupted him firmly. He smiled. "So you were in love with me all this time?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That's what I said, yes. No need to repeat it." He chuckled. "I can't believe that you love me. I mean, look at me. I'm a disaster when it comes to people."
He laughed. "You are." John agreed. "But I don't mind. You're perfect."
That's when he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He grabbed Sherlock's shirt and pulled him closer. And then their lips met and they kissed. Hesitant at first, but soon, Sherlock seemed to find the courage to kiss John back more passionately.
When they parted, they were both breathing heavily.
"I love you too, John." Sherlock whispered and smiled.
John grinned back at him.
Don't worry, this isn't the end! I think we'll reach about 20 chapters until this is finished!