Sherlock: Secret Love Song

by Kymanlover1

Mary has Died and John has moved back to Baker Street with Rosie in tow. Sherlock continues to keep his feelings well under lock and key during the waking hours but late at night when no one is awake he pours his heart out into his violin. What will happen if John ever puts two and two together? Will our Baker Street boys finally get together? Sister fic to Sherlock: Standstill

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I lay in my bed, the house quiet save the few sobs that fall past my lips and the soft melody that poured from the ear buds carelessly placed in my ears. Normally I do not listen to popular music but since coming home to find John engaged to Mary I find that it can say what I have been unable to thus far. Sentiment. The very thing that I strived to avoid throughout my brief existence is what is tearing me apart right now, I wish that someone would burn the remnants of this crumbling heart even if to stop the pain for a moment. Its hilarious Moriarty has once expressed the wish to burn the heart out of me and yet here it is John who is slowly killing it. I don't know what was worse, the two years that I had to stay away from him or living with the knowledge that he is now out of my reach. He's staying with her tonight, says he needs the space to come with the terms that I am alive and had not told him so before thrusting myself into a suicide mission to dismantle Moriarys vast criminal underground. I honestly can't bring myself to blame him, after all I have ultimately brought this calamity upon myself. John I had hoped that you would wait for me, but if she makes you happy then I will not get in the way after all you have made your choice.

I can see why he loves her, I don't know why I had hoped for a different outcome after all he always did insist heavily that he was not gay. I could have sworn that in a few moments through a flickering glimmer of hope and longing in his eyes. Perhaps it was just a reflection of my own emotions that I had been seeing in those fleeting moments. Behind closed doors I come undone and let the walls I've built around myself fall. Letting wave after wave of agony, longing and worst of all yet rejection crash over me the sobs grow louder and more frequent until I am wailing pushing my palms into my eyes as I try to stop the torrent. I am thankful that I have the flat to myself if only to allow the chance to properly mourn the loss of the man who will always hold my heart and possibly the only friend I have ever had. No one knows this side to the infamous Sherlock Holmes, I made sure of that keeping everyone at arms length with my air of indifference and generally rude demeanor. John you are the only one who could ever get close enough to me to see the real me.

I am sorry John I am a wickedly selfish man, I hate her. She has everything I want, she is everything that I am not and yet if she makes you happy I can let you go. It hurts like hell but for you John I can let you walk away taking my heart with you, its always belonged to you anyway. A twisted bittersweet smile slowly stretches across my features as I remember the day I realized that it was love that I felt towards you, for the first time since we met I was thankful that you could see but not observe. John what would you say if you saw me this way slowly coming undone, what would you do if I told you the reason for the endless tears. Would you help me to pick up the pieces? Would you look at me with disgust and never come back home to Baker Street allowing me to fade away in your memories? I hit repeat on the song memorizing every word every note burning it into my very soul. Rolling over onto my side I gaze at a photo of you that I managed to sneak when you weren't looking. I let out a bittersweet chuckle that came out more like a gasping sob, that jumper was particularly hideous; it was my favorite.

Gavin gave it to you and you loved it wearing it frequently around the flat, I still remember you yelling at me for the so called "experiment" that destroyed it a week before I took my leap off of that god forsaken hospital. I look over to my open back pack and see the burgundy sleeve peaking out from under a pair of trousers, my reminder of you and home. My mind goes to those countless nights in hotel rooms and back alleys curled up around that sweater, or during a particularly difficult few nights in Calais France after learning about you and Mary wearing it to bed. Thank god Graham could find a second one that matched. I fight back the urge to get up and to pull it over my head the burgundy and emerald monstrosity, you have reduced me to acting like a child with a comfort blanket and for a brief moment I feel a white hot flash of rage before it gives away to the icy chill of guilt. How could I feel such an ugly emotion towards you? John for you I will pretend to love her, to support you with your choice in life partner and to be happy for you. Just please don't leave me.

I hit repeat.