Give Him A Break!
As our relationship grew older, I realized that love and attention wasn't something that was absent from Sherlock's life but it was something which he required in abundance. As for him, the biggest realization until now was that I loved flowers because they had a nice smell and created a romantic atmosphere and not because they helped in the process of reproduction of plants.
The few days after Christmas were really, really great. Until he had that Watson's case (no, not me). Before leaving he said, "Guess now I'll be thinking of some other Watson," and smiled while I hit him playfully.
He had said that he'd try to return before new year's eve but that was just because I had made him repeat it after me. I knew very little of the case as he had left so hurriedly but the brief facts were: Watson was being blackmailed with some of his photos with different ladies, just sipping coffee. But the client seemed so scared only by looking at those photos that he couldn't even utter a complete sentence. Sherlock had only gone there because Lestrade had said that the new evidence is very promising. What the new evidence was, I didn't know.
I couldn't join him because of my poor health. Even a bit of exertion would make me a zombie. I posted a notice in my clinic regarding the same and was just walking home when I heard my phone ring. It was Sherlock.
"Hey, Sherry!" said I. Sherry were one of the few names that I used to annoy him.
"Stop damaging my brain cells." came a very angry reply.
"So, what's up?"
"Oh, yeah. I solved the Watson case, was very simple. That blind Lestrade couldn't even see that the coffee shop's names were the clue and not the women. Also, the new promising evidence was a garbage bag with lots of money which Watson had himself put out. He was simply trying to distract us from something big that's going to happen. So I'm going to check on it too. I'm sorry if I'm not there when you wished me to be." And he hung up.
Well, at least my guy was truthful and open, which always gets confused with too straightforward and rude, but that's okay as I understood him. I texted him to stay safe to which he, obviously, didn't reply.
I didn't get any calls or texts from Sherlock after that. Being an affable fellow I was thoroughly bored and felt dejected. So I went to Mycroft and then to Percy Phelps as well but still felt the same. Maybe it was because I missed him.
At 12:15 am, on New Year's, he called and said, "Happy New Year. I love you." and hung up. I smiled at his little ways but suddenly realized that he had said I love you.
I quickly texted him, 'What the fuck is I love you?' to which he replied, 'The fuck that I feel for you.'
We had a long talk ahead of us.
I can't say that my health was getting any better, given that I was in constant worry for that idiot who once had thought that it was fun to blast the kitchen, just because we didn't use it that much or maybe there was some other reason which he thought was best not to tell me. That was the day since when I had started cooking for the both of us.
Almost ten days gone by and I missed him a lot. I had many a times picked up the phone to call him but didn't want to disturb his focus, so had put it back down. I was sitting in my recliner thinking of how childish he could behave sometimes but then also become the man of my dreams. I remember when we had first met I thought that he had a multiple personality disorder but soon understood that's just who he is. A witty, innocent and arrogant bastard.
I was just sinking into his thoughts when the door burst open and fell on the floor.
"What the-"
"Shh."
I couldn't believe him. He had thrown open the whole door and had made as much noise as possible and was now shushing me!?
Oh, for your information, it was Sherlock.
After a few minutes of me glaring at him and he completely ignoring them, he came in and took hold of my hand, dragged me into the bedroom and shut the door behind us.
"Are you going to say something?"
"No."
That was it, I couldn't make him talk any further.
After about an hour, he went out and sat down with his tools to fix the door ignoring my every plea to answer any of my questions. Soon I gave up and went to make dinner, completely annoyed. He was done very soon and then came into the kitchen and hugged me from behind. I didn't pay any heed to whatever he did next and it took a lot of effort for the same.
He moved away from me and stood beside me with a glass of water in his hand.
"Did you not miss me?" said he with a very soft voice which I couldn't ignore.
"I did and a lot. But what just happened, and your ignorant behavior has upset me." said I with anger evident in my voice.
"I see. How can I make you to pay attention to me again and maybe happy?"
"By telling the truth about whatever the fuck happened outside."
"Other than that."
"Just go away, Sherlock."
He stood there for awhile and a few minutes later I heard the front door close. I suddenly wanted to cry. I walked into the living room and towards the door.
I put my head to it and screamed and soon was a trembling mess. I locked the door and sat with my head to it. I didn't understand what this sudden burst was about. I knew I missed him a lot but this was pure rage.
It was already two days since that incident and he hadn't showed up or tried to contact me. I was eating my lunch alone when I couldn't take it anymore and called him.
"Sherlock?" said I trying to control the inner rage.
"Yes, John?" came his reply almost as deadpan as ever.
"Why did you leave?"
"I don't understand. You asked me to leave and judging from your tone you seem angry even though I completely followed your instructions."
I sighed and said, "Just come back."
"Sure."
I heard a knock on the door within minutes of hanging up.
"Where the heck were you?" said I as I took in his appearance.
His clothes looked like they were taken out from a garbage bag, his beautiful face was battered with something black and he looked even more thin.
"On the streets." he said it so simply as if it was his second home. Well, who knew, it might as well have been.
"Why?"
"You told me to go away but I wanted to stay near you. I couldn't think of a better place than the streets so I stayed there until you called."
"You could've stayed with Mrs. Hudson!?"
"I'd rather prefer the streets." said he bluntly.
I got him some water and tea. He said he wanted to freshen up first and so did the same. He came out wearing black pants and a light blue shirt with his blue dressing gown. With naked feet he came and sat on the sofa, near me.
As soon as he had seated himself, I kissed him. A long passionate kiss which he returned with equal intensity, saying more than he could ever do with words. After parting, I said "Don't you ever leave me like that. Even if I say so." and hugged him. Though he didn't return the same.
I said, with face buried into his neck, "What's wrong?"
"I don't follow you. If you don't want me to leave then why do you say so?" confusion evident in his voice.
I didn't release him and spoke in the same position as before, "I don't know how to explain you this. Huh, consider this. When you think someone is going to harm me would you stay by my side or go away?"
"What kind of a question is that? I would obviously stay with you and protect you." said he raising his voice slightly.
"Same way, when my emotions are harming me. I want you by my side." said I and kissed his neck.
"I'm sorry, John." said he while putting his hands around me.