Started: Jan 2014
Finished: Jan 2014
Watson entered the flat. "Sherlock, we need to talk. Er, I need to talk and you need to listen. And do what I say, for once." He paused. "That thing you do, where you make me think we're going to die or that I'm going to die. Where you fool me by saying that you haven't found a way out. Where then you make me say nice things to you." Sherlock had the nerve to smile up at him.
"I could stop but you enjoy it too much."
"What? I do not." Sherlock looked back down at his book.
"You need it," he replied evenly. Watson got angry at his audacity of his suggestion. He wanted to be calm this time and not let Sherlock get to him but he couldn't. He had been through too much and this man had a smoldering impudence.
"I most definitely don't need it. I hate it." Watson hissed. Sherlock rose from his seat and stalked near his friend.
"It's that rush you crave. The rush that the war gave you, life or death." The shorter man started to shake.
"They do it. The enemy does it for us, not you," he reasoned. "You're not my enemy," he said angrily. "Don't fuck with me like that again. I'm warning you."
"Oh," purred Sherlock softly.
"I am serious," Watson said. "Don't you do it too or else you'll just be another monster to me." The tall man put his hand up dramatically.
"Boo," he said and smirked teasingly. Angered, Watson pushed Sherlock away.
"Ok fine, I knew you wouldn't understand! I knew you wouldn't. You always think you know better, being cruel and playing games. You're crazy, completely crazy. I know you don't care about most peoples feelings but I thought at least you'd care for mine! But oh no you left me for two years made me think you were dead!" Watson was shaking and on the verge of tears. Sherlock took his pause to speak.
"Dear Watson." He came forward and put a hand on the side of shorter man's neck only to have it pushed away. The tall man again tried to place both hands on his friend.
"Don't touch me," he said as he slapped Sherlock away again.
"Why? Why do you do it?" Tears fell down his checks. "And it's not because I like it because I don't! I have a hard time believing you have fun being outright nasty to me. Tell me the truth." Sherlock took a deep breath.
"Motivation."
"Motivation, for what?" He sighed at his friend being clueless.
"To motivate you to do something I," he stopped himself.
"I don't understand. To motivate me to do something that you can't? I basically devote my life to this thing we have. What could you want me to do that would warrant your wicked games?" The taller men stood there silent, not knowing what to say.
"I'm not normal," he began.
"No shit," interrupted Watson.
"I'm extreme," he continued speaking slowly. "I don't have all the answers as I would like to. Sometimes I, I have doubts. I feel sometimes and I feel about you."
"I know you feel about me. We're friends. We have adventures sometimes. That doesn't answer my question though, why the cruel jokes?" Sherlock looked down into his friend's honest eyes and laid a hand on his cheek. Watson looked surprised Sherlock had never touched him that way before.
"I want the very best for you. You deserve someone to love you. You deserve someone to take care of you and never leave you. You deserve an angel. Not someone who has left you." Watson wondered what his friend could be going on about.
"Who has left me?" Then it dawned on him. "You, you mean you? You, you're…you," he stammered. "Me? You and me. You want to be with me?" Sherlock nodded ever so slightly. Watson's eyes grew large and he pushed the mans hand away. "When you are interested in someone you sit close to them on the couch. You put your arm around them, you kiss them. You don't make them think you both are going to be blown to kingdom come!"
"I know I shouldn't do that."
"You're sicker then I thought and that's saying something." He put his hand over is mouth to calm himself. You wanted to be with me but you couldn't even come close to me yourself?"
"But I am right now, don't you see?"
"You had to try to scare me into what, throwing myself into your arms at the last moment? So if you knew I was fond of you, then what? What did you think would happen when I found out it was just one huge manipulative stunt? Did you think we could just carry on?"
"I thought you would forgive me, like you always do. I thought you may even be grateful for the push." Those last words make Watson bristle.
"Grateful for the push?" he repeated through clenched teeth.
"I was afraid, that I'm not good for you, to be in a relationship with of that kind. I couldn't bring myself to break through that barrier and I thought if you could. If you could make the first move then everything would come easier for me."
